Mule and Tyrone

Mule vs Tyrone 
(story by Mule, edited by S Kane.  Artwork by Steve62Reeves)

"This is perfect for our needs.” said Mule as he surveyed the small, remote and deserted beach.  As Mule and Tyrone stood on the rocky sand next to the water the tension seemed to crackle in the air like electric sparks.   The time had finally come.

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Tyrone had to be one of the biggest, most muscled guys Mule had ever fought. Even Mule had thought twice about getting it on with this monster of a black dude who was even bigger than he was. Tyrone was scientific proof of black genetic physical superiority (Basically that a white guy juicing is the equivalent of a black man on no gear). And Tyrone had won the genetic lottery.

Kicking the ass of some loud mouth, overweight wannabe fighter in a bar and breaking some chairs over his head was one thing but pitting yourself against a seriously strong man who knew how to wrestle was much more stimulating.


Mule was a blond bodybuilder and jock, like a Norse god, while Tyrone was like some muscular primal African warrior god. Women saw Mule-the embodiment of the comic book Thor- and desired to feel his mighty hammer.  With Tyrone- they became transfixed with his Nubian beauty-and instantly burned with a severe case of JUNGLE FEVER. Both were in every respect magnificent specimens of young American manhood: Now with your mind scan down these two muscular behemoths-- across two sets of broad boulder shoulders, smooth well-shaped pecs--like twin mountain buttes astride massive highland plains, sinewy cannon ball biceps down the arms of iron ending in giant sledgehammer fists, over to the tight rock-hard abs, narrow hips, power packed thighs framing big swinging horse cocks, circling around to huge bowling ball sized muscled glutes, taking a moment to wipe your chin, before examining the bulging calves, sliding down to two pairs of oversized feet where you drooling fanboys may take a moment to genuflect before these two stunningly handsome demiurges of muscle!!! Both had the unmistakable sign of the true wrestler: a thick, strong neck formed by hours of bridging and gritty resistance to attempted pins and submission holds

Their rock hard muscled physique were thus structurally similar, although Tyrone was  bigger, standing a couple of inches  taller and being thirty pounds heavier than the 6'3" 260 lbs. Mule. Tyrone was so fuckin' big even his muscles had muscles   As they looked at each other side by side Tyrone and Mule both knew that this was to be a battle for supremacy to determine dominance.  One of the men, the blond giant or the black Hercules, had to come out on top.



Tyrone was a real man-mountain with limbs like giant industrial hydraulic rams: whenever someone pushed against one of them or tried to bend it, the huge arm or leg simply powered back, seemingly effortlessly. His strength was seriously impressive and although Mule knew he would beat him in the end, by what means or how long it would take, he was not yet sure. It was a “one fall” contest--where the first submission would end in total defeat and humiliation, and so no room for error.

They were both hugely strong and evenly matched but it was not all about strength; it was also about stamina and skill.


They kicked off their boots and jeans, and now naked, the two magnificent men gazed at each other, jaws clenched, every muscle tense. They start to circle, their huge fat cocks and orange-sized balls bobbing between their muscled thighs. These were true warriors:  Stripped naked, fully confident in their strength, supremely comfortable in their manly nakedness.

 It was Tyrone who spoke, holding out his arms, flaunting his shining black rippling torso and his perfectly sculpted black body.  The huge black python between his legs, impossible to miss, was more than a match for Mule’s white anaconda.

“Well, man, here I am.   Come on, stud.   Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“You’ve met your match, asshole.    Try this for a start.”    Mule hauled back and slammed his fist into the exposed stomach of the bigger man, and then, as Tyrone doubled over, smashed his forearm onto the back of his shoulders.   This familiar opening move always brought his opponent crashing to the sand.  But not Tyrone.  Instead of crumpling to his knees he stood erect and smiled at Mule.

“Is that all you’ve got, stud?   It’ll take a lot more than that to drop me. Why don’t you try again?”

Mule smashed his other fist into Tyrone's stomach.  The gut punch was brutal but Tyrone only grunted as he flexed his stomach muscles against the blow.

Mule throws rights and lefts to Ty's rock solid abs

Mule's body punches bounce off Ty with little effect 

Shocked by the resilience of the man, Mule raised his arm and slammed the back of his fist against Tyrone’s cheek.  The black man’s head flew to the side and back and Tyrone stumbled a few steps back, but remained standing.   He reciprocated with blows to either side of Mule’s face.   Stunned, but still upright, Mule gazed at the arrogant, handsome face, and the slugfest began as they traded punches.   The only effect was to throw each man momentarily off balance, but each stood his ground, his head flying sideways under the force of each blow.

Finally Mule recognized the brutal stalemate and in a lightning move spun Tyrone around and brought his arm round his neck from the back, locking it in a choke hold.   Tyrone raised his arms and tried to wrench the huge arm from his thick neck, but it didn’t budge. Tyrone's ebony muscles gleamed and flexed as he poured every ounce of his strength into breaking Mule's choke hold.

Mule growled, “Not so easy, eh, stud?”    Not so tough after all.   You’re finished, big man.”

Locked together the two men staggered around the beach, Mule increasing the pressure on the choke hold, Tyrone flailing desperately trying to release it.   The ebony muscle-god was gasping now, the weight on his windpipe slowly cutting off his air.   He knew only one way out.   His whole body tensed, he flexed every agonized muscle and suddenly the bigger man leaned forward, heaving Mule’s body upward, over his back.

Mule felt his feet leave the ground, felt himself flying forward over the back and head of this powerful man.  His arms came loose, he lost all sense of space, he was in the air, then crashing onto the ground.   For a second he was dazed, disoriented, his eyes swam into focus and he looked up at the muscular black stud towering over him, saw the black face and shining white teeth grinning down at him.

“Like that?  I am going to kick your big white ass.   You can’t beat me.   I am the best.” the black fucker boasted.

But even as Tyrone spoke, sure of his easy victory, Mule had wrapped his long muscled legs around Tyrone’s waist and clamped on a bodyscissor. Tyrone’s eyes opened wide in surprise as the sudden vice-like grip on his diaphragm asserted itself. “Fucking dumb ape,” said Mule, lying back and letting his rock hard legs do the work, “bet you’re a sucker for a bodyscissor every time you wrestle”

Mule locks his powerful body scissors onto Ty 

As the blond jock pumped in the pressure, Tyrone had to use his arms to break the bodyscissor before any real damage was done. It was a test of strength as Tyrone, already feeling his breathing impaired, tried to pry Mule’s legs apart while Mule struggled to reassert the hold. But again, drawing on all his power, Tyrone slowly was succeeding in wrenching Mule’s straining legs away from his waist, and with a sudden and terrible show of raw power he was able to free himself from the Mule's punishing hold.

Tyrone was trying to get to his feet, but Mule succeeded in knocking him sideways to the ground, leaping on him like a lion. Legs and arms flew in all directions as the two bodies already slippery with sweat rolled around the rocky beach, seething and locked together in an angry and deadly embrace.

Mule punched Tyrone’s ribcage twice, while the giant Nubian kneaded Mule's huge balls, the blond warrior grunted in pain and punched Tyrone’s nose.  Tyrone was able to grapevine Mule’s legs and Tyrone was once more on top - “Know what I think of you, white ass? "--he whispered and the giant Nubian dropped a gob of spit right into Mule’s face, rubbing it with the palm of his hand.

Enraged by this insult, Mule grabs Tyrone in a headlock, forcing him sideways, with a mighty pull of his muscled legs, Mule then kicks the bigger Nubian off him and on to his ass.

Back on their feet, they “shaped up” toward each other, the sweat dripping off their muscled frames, as they stared each other down. Tyrone held a hand out as if challenging his opponent to another test of strength, but Mule attempted to grab it in an armlock. Tyrone was one step ahead, however, and slipped behind him, snapping a full nelson. “Gotcha!!! Try getting’ out of this one, shithead” And the pressure that Tyrone quickly exerted, forced a groan from Mule’s throat.

The blond jock strained desperately against the ferocious pressure on his neck, trying to stay erect, all the muscles of his back and neck dancing under the bronzed skin in this supreme effort to stop his neck from being broken. What was even worse-- he could feel the thud of Tyrone’s swollen cock against his muscled ass. He tried to reach up, to grab Tyrone by the hair of his head, but Mule only succeeded in grabbing Tyrone's left ear, forcing a scream of pain from the Nubian’s lips.  Unfortunately the sweat pouring off the black skin had made it slippery, and Mule lost his hold. Tyrone laughed in the blonde’s ear: “You are up against a champion gladiator, boy. I’ve broken tougher fighters than you, white boy”.

Increasingly frustrated, Mule tried to drag himself free, but the taller Tyrone lifted the white jock right off his feet, swinging him around. Dropping him back to his feet, the black Nubian started to add a savage twisting to the full nelson, which brought forth groans of pain through Mule’s clenched teeth. But even in that instant, Mule doubled over, surprising the big Nubian, and reached down and grabbed Tyrone’s right leg, dragging it forward so that the big fighter crashed backwards to the ground with Mule on top of him. The big Nubian lost his hold and Mule rolled away from his opponent, intent on trying to regroup and get his neck working again but Tyrone, on a roll now, was attacking the Mule straightaway. “Get up, boy!” he hissed and dragged his foe to his feet by the blond hair of his head, immediately picking him up in a crotch hold, holding him high in the air with one hand twisting Mule’ bull balls, beads of sweat spraying off the horizontal golden body onto the smiling face of his cruel opponent, before powerslamming him to the ground with such force that it seemed to send a shudder through the earth.

Fireman Carry by the Mule

Tyrone is racked on Mule's mile wide shoulders

Mule adds some extra punishment to the hold 

Mule groaned in pain, while Tyrone body pressed the downed fighter. Mule’s attempts to kick out the bodypress seemed increasingly feeble.

Tyrone did not pursue the bodypress, but instead sat on Mule’s chest, so that his huge cock, now at full mast, was nudging his victim’s chin. “Whadya say, blondie, want to quit now, and suck my big black cock before I start breaking bones?"

But again it was Mule’s great agility that came to the rescue, as he kicked his long powerful legs back to capture Tyrone’s body, dislodging him and then consolidating with another bodyscissor, applied sideways on the ground. Tyrone could feel the incredible power of the scissor that could have squeezed weaker wrestlers to unconsciousness in seconds.

Mule dug his knees in with everything he's got, determined to make the big Nubian holler. Tyrone just gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, equally determined to contain his agony. Mule’s fists fired, quicker than cobra’s attacks, hitting the black fighter on his lips, his right ear, his throat, his ribs. Mule screamed in rage and judging the angles more carefully now, to put the hurt on liver and kidneys, he summoned all his power for the big cruncher. And this time the spasms of pain were so sudden that before he realized it, Tyrone had uttered a scream of pain.

“That’s more like it, stud” grinned Mule, content for the moment to settle back with the scissor hold punctuated by the blonde’s powerful hammer punches, rather than going for the exertion of final victory—for in truth after the punishment by Tyrone, Mule was getting his own breath back and enjoying just controlling his opponent.

Mule relaxed his grip too much, it was a mistake, and Tyrone was able to kick his way out of the hold. He scrambled to get to his feet, but Mule, agile as ever, flung himself at him from behind, driving Tyrone's handsome face forward to the dirty, stony ground, reapplying the bodyscissor from the top position and quickly snapping on a full nelson for good measure. It was payback time.

Mule drove his knees into his victim’ sides which added a bit of punishing pressure to the full nelson, and he was rewarded with a sob of frustration from Tyrone, who could feel Mule’s mighty fat cock lying full length  in the small of his back. And the blond man’s sweat was splashing down onto him underneath.

Mule locks a full Nelson on to Ty's thick neck 

Mule was beginning to have himself a good time as he rode the captive Nubian hard, all the time working the full nelson from left to right as he wiped Tyrone’s nose against the sea-worn stones. “Nose to the grindstone, eh Tyrone?”--Mule mocked

However Mule had underestimated Tyrone who suddenly pushed himself up from the beach on all fours by his hands. Mule tried to use the full nelson to keep him under control but Tyrone was incredibly strong.

Tyrone got to his knees, now he seized Mule’s  legs  so that Mule was trapped in a piggy back position. Mule tried desperately to control the mighty black fighter with the full nelson but Tyrone’s thick column of neck withstood the mighty assault. With a big supreme effort he rose to his feet, like a vengeful Django, carrying a helpless Mule on his back. Mule attempted to abandon the full nelson and go for a more effective strangle hold in an effort to make Tyrone drop him, but his efforts were too little, too late.

Tyrone noticed that there was a big palm tree a couple of feet off the edge of the beach. Carrying his passenger like some black Adonis fireman, the big Nubian headed towards the tree, and at the target, with a swirling around on his heels like a discus thrower, hurled Mule’s thick wide back into the rough trunk with such force that the tree swayed crazily from side to side under the impact.  To add insult to injury, several dislodged palm fruits bounced of the Mule’s head. Tyrone hauled up the stunned Mule, and repeated the treatment twice more, these latter two times, massaging Mule’s flesh against the gnarled surface to increase his victim’s suffering.

Ty slams Mule's back into a tree

Ty breaks Mule's full nelson with the help of the tree

Mule is slammed against the tree repeatedly...

“Arrrrgghh!!” groaned Mule in agony, sagging under the attack. Tyrone dropped him off, swing around and lifted a knee right into Mule’s balls. Mule’s mouth opened in a silent scream of pain.

There was a look of triumph in Tyrone’s eyes as he grabbed Mule by the balls and walked him around. His callous hand felt how big and ponderous Mule's bull sized balls were, they felt like they were made of solid rubber.

Still holding Mule by the balls, insolently he slapped Mule’s face, to and fro, with his free hand, yelling out “One! Two! Three! Four!” with each slap. The big Nubian thought that it was time to apply a bearhug. His bearhug was a killer, the hold he liked most, he liked to squeeze the shit out of his victim making them beg for mercy.

Releasing his grip on Mule’s balls, Tyrone slowly wrapped his huge, heavy muscled arms around Mule’s midsection and locked his hands in preparation for the main deadly assault.

“C’mon Mule, fight it” taunted Tyrone. Mule seemed to register this message because he circled Tyrone with his own arms to challenge his bearhug. They stood there in the center of the beach, locked together, faces only inches apart, their sweat soaked bodies straining and heaving, their throbbing cocks jammed up hard against each other in a their own battle for  supremacy.

Tyrone appreciated the challenge because he had supreme confidence in his bearhug. There was a thin, chilling smile on his big lips as he cranked up the pressure and tested Mule to the full. And the blond Adonis began to buckle; he was forced to relax, if not relinquish, his own bearhug and he stood on tiptoe to try to ease the awful pressure on his torso that the taller and bigger Tyrone was beginning to exert.

Mule knew that if his feet left the ground, he was gone, but as Tyrone stepped up the pressure to the next threshold of torture, Mule, his diaphragm beginning to seize up on him, had no option but to cling on, desperately grapevining his legs around Tyrone’s. The taller black man simply smiled with pleasure and demonstrated that he still had new reservoirs of power to draw upon, crushing Mule in his arms like a ragdoll. Mule flashed back to Grappler Dan, and the agony and ecstasy of that defeat, and swore in his mind that Tyrone would not gain such a glorious victory!

Ty bear hugs Mule..

It was time then for desperate measures and Mule head-butted Tyrone’s nose and in the same time grabbed his huge nipples and wrenched them ferociously. Taken by surprise, Tyrone for a moment relaxed his grip, allowing Mule to insert his arms between their bodies. It was a sight to see: a powerful white blond male, in his full glory of muscle perfection, crushing an even bigger, more muscled, heavier, taller black man in his reverse bearhug, arching his back to lift him off the ground, sweat pouring out from black and the bronzed skins, the powerful arms swelling to the max, muscles dancing under the thin skin.

Mule headbutts Ty 

 

Ty shows off his phenomenal strength by crushing the blonde Muscleman in his mighty arms

The black powerhouse crushes the blond muscleman’s back and ribs 

Ty crushes Mule like he was a ragdoll

 Opening his throat and letting out an ear-splitting war cry, Tyrone straightened his legs and simultaneously thrust his arms down and outward in a cataclysmic movement which broke the hold.

Exhausted both by the bearhug and the effort of escaping it, the blond fighter collapsed to the beach, trying to roll out of harm’s way. The beautiful golden body, now racked with pain, lied crumpled almost at Tyrone’s feet, his back to his attacker. Angry at having been thwarted, Tyrone strode towards his fallen foe, like some vengeful Mandingo.

Mule exhausted by the bear hug

Mule trying to recoup his lost energy and strength

"How does your back feel, Mule?"

"Get up, boy, I'm not finished kicking your ass yet.."

Tyrone grabbed the muscled jock by his blond hair and dragged him to his knees, then to his feet, wanting to apply the bear hug from behind. Sensing his last possibility, Mule swiveled to one side, reached down and in an incredible show of strength, he picked up the big body of Tyrone in a modified fireman carry, stomach-dropping him to his waiting knee. It was all done so quickly that Tyrone hardly realized what had happened. The big Nubian rolled onto his back, clutching his belly, whereupon Mule jumped on him with both feet, landing right on the solar plexus. Amazingly, the black giant rose to his feet, shaking his head.  "Not bad for a white boy..." he said, as he spit a mouthful of blood and spit onto the ground.  Mule saw red in frustration of not being able to put this gorilla down for good.

Anger coursed through Mule’s veins.   Many men had felt the force of his uncontrolled fury.  And now Mule was angry.   With a roar he vaulted to his feet and slammed against the muscular black body.  The force of the blow made them both stagger blindly backward and together they hurtled down into the surf.

The water jolted them as they were now in the water, trading blows again, water pouring over their heads, down their faces and bulging torsos.   It was serious now.   Each man now knew the strength of the other, knew he had met his match, so every ounce of strength, adrenaline and rage went into the fight.   Soon their bodies locked together and they fell back rolling over in the water, then back onto the rocky beach.

Their bodies gleamed, as they crawled up the beach.  Tyrone was first to his feet and hauled the big white jock upright.   As Mule reeled, disoriented, he felt the back of Tyrone’s fist strike first one cheek then the other.   His handsome, rugged face flew from side to side with each blow as he staggered backward.   Taking the full force of the black man’s savage onslaught.  Through his pain he heard the deep, triumphant voice.

Tyrone punches like a young Mike Tyson....

Ty's fists are too fast for Mule to block

Ty's fists beat Mule into a pulp.....

Knock Down by Ty,  Mule is dropped!

“Yeah, take it, stud.    I’m gonna break you, give you the beating of your life.    You thought you could whip me, white boy?   Think again, asshole.   You’re finished, man. I am the best!”

The brutal pounding continued and Mule knew he was close to defeat. The black muscleman had incredible strength and was thrashing the Mule.

Ty mounts and continues to pound on the Mule

Ty rains down fists on a now defenseless Mule

Ground and Pound on the Mule 

The beat down of the Mule continues...

"now that's how you get the job done, son...."

"Ready to go again?"

You thought you could whip me, white boy?  

"I kicked your white ass...."

"This is real muscle..."

Mule on his knees!

Ty has over powered and dominated the Mule!

You’re finished, man. I am the best!”

Mule is reeling from the beating he has taken but  he is not finished yet!

    Then even as he grew weaker, with the last ounce of strength he could muster he shoved Tyrone backward.  The big man stumbled back, lost his balance and fell.   Tyrone crashed to the rocky ground hard, the wind knocked out of him and hitting the back of his head in the progress. WHACKKKKK!!! It was a hard hit to the head, maybe hard enough to have given Tyrone a concussion.

Mule looked down at his fallen opponent and, still reeling from the beating he had taken, instinctively backed away from him to regain his breath.   He watched as Tyrone slowly shook his head and looked up toward Mule.    Tyrone's head throbbed from the fall and he was still only semi-conscious his ears ringing with a cacophony of bells, but he instinctively knew he had to reach the big man gazing down at him.

Using all his remaining strength Tyrone turned on his stomach and began to drag himself along the stony beach.   Mule stood watching him in awe.   It was an almost erotic sight ….. The beautiful black muscle-god, stripped naked, beaten half senseless, dragging himself in agony toward him. The awesome Black body.  Tyrone's naked chest scraped on the gravel,   His exhausted muscles, stretched to their agonized limit, rippled and flexed, his beautiful ebony face twisted in pain, as he slowly clawed his way over the ground.

The injured Ty crawls towards the Mule to get back into the fight....

 
The incredible image made Mule’s cock grow hard as iron.  He smiled grimly as he taunted the fallen black man.

“Crawl, you son-of-a-bitch.   I made you crawl.   Yeah, come on, you black cocksucker.   Bring it on.  You thought you were a big, tough black stud.   Now look at you, crawling at my feet like an animal.  Your finished man.   I will break you.”

Mule walked over to the beaten stud and flipped him over onto his back like a turtle.   Still only half conscious with glazed eyes Tyrone looked up in agony at what came next.  As he towered over Tyrone, Mule grabbed his rigid donkey dick and pointed it at Tyrone's face.

“This is it, man.  The great humiliation.    Let's see how my black slave likes to drink his master’s piss.”

Mule’s huge white cock belched piss like a fire hose.  Tyrone gasped as the hot jet of piss slammed into his beautiful face.  His gasp made him open his mouth and he tasted the bitter juice of total defeat.  Then he felt the hot liquid pouring over his shoulders, his chest and then soaking his own over-sized crotch.  It was then that he became dimly aware that his cock was raging hard.   Through the mist of urine he looked up at the magnificent blond bodybuilder towering over him, smelt and tasted his piss …… and the sensation of being totally degraded by this man.

But Tyrone's survival instinct took over.  The taste of Mule’s piss disgusted him, and adrenaline and rage gave him the strength to summon energy from some deep reservoir of strength.     He lunged forward, grabbed Mule’s ankle and heaved him off balance, sending him crashing to the ground.

Both men were now crawling, but Mule saw that Tyrone was at the limit of exhaustion.    He took advantage and was able to mount Tyrone  and clamped a wrestler’s neck breaker hold round his thick neck and head.      But Tyrone was tougher than most men Mule had met.   He flexed his muscles again and, despite his exhaustion, he was strong enough to power out of the hold.

Mule applies a neck breaker on the downed  Tyrone 

They had been grappling for about thirty minutes - longer than most of Mule's opponents lasted. It has taken a significant amount of effort to control Tyrone and to contain his immense bursts of power.  Mule and Tyrone locked together, their appearance one of a single mound of straining, snorting, hissing muscle.

Their massive lat muscles bulged as they fought. Powerful legs sought purchase on the rocky beach   and both pairs of twenty-one inch arms rippled as each looked for a way to gain the submission of the other. Their heavy breathing and explosive hissing and snorting sounded hotter and hotter as they battled on, each grunting and moaning.

But now, Mule felt Tyrone’s resistance falter slightly; he was till tremendously strong but his breathing became gradually more labored, his breaths became shorter and were punctuated more frequently by grunts of effort.

All this told Mule that he was finally beginning to prevail and to dominate. Mule knew this moment; it was the turning point that came in every match and it was deeply satisfying. As his opponents grew weaker, he grew stronger. It was as though the strength steadily seeped from their bodies into his and added the power of their muscles to the power of his own.

Now all he had to do was to hold Tyrone down and then take advantage of the mistake which would inevitably be made sooner or later as desperation took hold in the mind of the man battling to come back.

When Mule saw the splayed fingers of the unintentionally outstretched hand, he struck like a cobra. Locking his fingers around the hand of his opponent who realized his mistake too late, he bent it back hard and was rewarded by a wince of pain on Tyrone's face and the sweet sound of a "crack" from Tyrone's over extended wrist.

However big a guy was, you didn’t always need brute force to take him down. Apply enough pain to a sensitive area (e.g. a finger, an elbow or, in this case, the wrist) and any amount of muscle is yours for the taking.

The guy was in no position to counter with any leverage of his own and his thick, broad back hit the beach with a thud.

Mule looked down at him. They both knew that it was all but over. But the aim was not to disable the black muscleman: it was about demonstrating who was the stronger man and the better fighter; it was not a question of survival and putting someone away for good.

Still, all he saw in Tyrone's eyes was defiance. As Mule's cock grew ever harder, he thought about how to finish this Nubian muscle-god.  If he was not going to put him out of action (temporarily or permanently), the only way was to increase the pain of the hold he had him in. This muscle bull was way too dangerous to be given another chance and there was no guarantee that, if their situations were reversed, he would see things in the same way.

Mule shifted his weight and position slightly, bringing his knee closer to the Tyrone’s now exposed elbow. He saw his eyes glance down and register a look of alarm, followed by a struggle to remove it, literally, from harm’s way.

Watching his big muscles flex and strain was as enjoyable as it was futile but it had to be short-lived. Positioning his knee against his elbow joint, Mule bore down steadily with all of his own 260 muscled pounds. The pain must have been sudden and intense, and was met with a desperate pounding of the floor by Tyrone with his free hand.

“Fuck you, man,” Tyrone growled.

“I don’t think so, asshole.   It’s you who’s fucked.”

Mule looked down at his helpless captive with a satisfied grin.   The black bodybuilder was naked, sprawled on the beach on his back.   He was completely immobilized by Mule's hold.

Ty is down!

Ty on his knees!

Ty is at Mule's Mercy 

Mule grinned as he watched the bound up black muscle god try to free himself, watched the sculpted, ebony physique gleam and flex as his shoulders and arms bulged with the effort to break free.  The shaved head flew from side to side eyes blazing, jaw clenched in anger.   Mule was in no hurry.  He was taunting his fallen opponent on the small beach.

“So here you are finally, stud, at my mercy.   I like you, Ty..., so I’ll give you a break.   I’ll let you go, babe.   No more pain, no more humiliation... provided you submit to me first.   And I mean submit ….as in beg, plead, crawl, and degrade yourself.  You submit and call me sir!  You ready to call me sir?”

Tyrone narrowed his eyes and snarled, “Asshole.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Tyrone shouted.    “You know I’m your equal, man, does that answer your question, asshole?”

Mule glared at him.  Again his anger was rising.   He ripped the belt from his nearby jeans and swung it crashing down across Tyrone’s chest.   He saw the face wince with pain, but there was no sound.  Tyrone tensed the muscles of his magnificent torso and the whip bounced off his bugling pecs.    Tyrone looked up at Mule and smiled.

“That all you got, man?   You know I’ll never submit to that.  Come on, man.  That the best you can do?”

Mule threw the belt down in disgust.  Mule raised his hands to his waist; His huge white cock, stiff as a pole, sprang out and he held it in his fist.
 
“See this, Tyrone?   This is what the sluts go ape-shit for.  Mule's legendary pussy driller.   But it's also a weapon.     Now you’re sure as hell never even thought of a man fucking you into submission.   Well that’s gonna change, stud.”   Mule fell to his knees next to Tyrone.   “Right now.”

Mule grabbed both Tyrone’s ankles lifting them from the ground, his mighty black legs forming a wide V,  Mule stomped his huge black scrotum. Mule’s power packed ball stomp demolished  the last of Tyrone’s defences. Mule pushed Tyrone's legs high in the air, exposing his vulnerable, virgin ass.    Tyrone gasped and, for the first time, Mule saw fear in his eyes.   There was a cruel grin on the Mule's face as he pushed the head of his iron-hard cock against the black man’s shuddering ass.    “Here it comes, man.   This is what it’s all about.”

Mule began to probe with his fully erect meat, eager to fuck Tyrone's beaten ass. He pressed the hard, wet head of his hugely engorged cock against Tyrone's puckered anus and pushed. Tyrone resisted and gave a loud cry.

Mule spoke to Tyrone again.

"Ever been fucked before?"

"No." There was stoic resignation behind the reply.

"Too bad!" was Mule's reply. "The more you resist, the more this is going to hurt. Get it?"


Mule laughed in triumph as he looked down, spat in Tyrone’s ass and in one swift, agonizing move, and rammed the whole length of his horse cock deep inside the man hole of the black stud. Mule entered at full force,  his bulls balls slammed against the muscled black buns.

Tyrone’s scream echoed round the sunbaked beach as he felt a man’s cock spear his ass for the first time in his life. This was Mule’s ultimate weapon; his notorious fuck was more brutal than any other pain he could deliver.  

"Aaaaaauuuuuuw ... nooooooo!" Tyrone howled in pain and rage when his cherry was busted. "You bastard, take your fuckin' dick out of my asssss, " Tyrone shouted furiously. Tyrone was swearing, he was howling, cursing and trying to wriggle and to buck free but to no avail. Enraged he had to admit that the pain was subsiding and some thrusts he received from behind were almost exciting. He knew that Mule was probing deep for his prostate.

"Relax baby, you will get used to it," Mule mocked.

A guttural roar came from Mule as he exploded into action, powering in and out, forcing his huge penis between Tyrone's sweaty butt cheeks and deep into the beefy black body, slamming his  groin into Tyrone's smooth and thickly muscled cheeks as he methodically raped his brawny opponent. The whole of his great fucking dick was in, right up to the hilt. He had won that hot, tight, muscular rear end, spoils of combat, and now he would put his mark on what he had taken.


 As Tyrone was impaled on the monster shaft; as he felt it plunge deep into his gut, his magnificent black body shook with the most agonizing pain that had ever shot through him.   His muscles strained, veins standing out, as he tried desperately to free himself from his conqueror, tried to escape the shaft of pain shooting from his ass all over his agonized body.

Mule was triumphant.   “That’s it, you black bastard, let me hear you scream.    This is how I break a man, make him beg.   And you are gonna beg, asshole.  You’re gonna call me sir, admit that you’re beaten, that I am the best.    Yeah, feel this you black mother-fucker!”

"Stop! Oh yeah shit ... no you sonofabiitchhhhh ... aaaargh", Tyrone's body was going taunt, when his inside was filled for the first time in his life by another man's cum.

"Yeah, I gottcha!" Mule was now howling, " ahhh ...uhh ... uhhh... uhhh!"

Mule's powerful bronzed thighs slapped noisily against Tyrone's black sweat-slick ass-cheeks each time he lunged forwards, the two men's heavy massive balls swinging back and forth and banging together.  Tyrone's tight ass was now semen- engorged and full, and he moaned as Mule's thick iron-hard shaft slid firmly into him again and again. That great cock felt like it was a burning spear roughly stabbing him. Tyrone struggled, and the two muscular men fought as the long rape continued. But Mule was clearly dominant. He held Tyrone tightly, and rode out Tyrone's struggles, raping Tyrone with strong thrusts powered by his large iron glutes.  To Tyrone’s amazement and disgrace, the black stud's own cock began to stir. The pain was excruciating (he had never experienced a dick before, never mind one this thick and long), and he knew he was being raped, but his body was totally aroused by the penetration. The pleasure was so intense, so blinding... Tyrone's breaths came as rasps and his skin glowed hot. He writhed and pushed and thrust back with his body, physically aroused and in full lust, as Mule's pythonic embrace relaxed.  Tyrone's mouth opened in a hoarse scream as he thrust his ass back at Mule. "OH my GOD! Mule... Sweet fuck!"  The two men's bodies interlaced strongly on the ground, two mighty muscled animals of absolute lust, drowning in a hot raw fuck.

Mule's massive cock was iron hard, his lemon sized balls bursting, his breathing shallow and urgent. He was out his head with sensual pleasure, heat spreading like wildfire from his balls to his cock. He bucked against Tyrone, once, twice, then with a desperate shove he exploded powerfully unleashing a torrent of cum from his mighty cock, a river of sperm that flowed copiously, pumping the violated asshole with man cum, filling Tyrone's innards with his hot seed. Mule's climax seemed endless, his cock spurting jet after jet of sperm deep inside Tyrone's seething, “breeded” ass.


"No, fu-uuurgggh ... fu ... ahhh arrghh arrgh," Tyrone's huge black spear gushed his load. A sequence of 5-feet-long thick glistening strings, the first of what felt like a gallon of white hot jizz that coated the black muscle stud's pecs and abs with loser cum.   "Yeah! That’s right BOY! You lose!" Mule crowed.  When the rush finally subsided Tyrone's body was limp and his once rock-hard dick had been reduced to half its size and was clearly bent down over his shrinking nut sac.

Tyrone was in terror. Mule had topped him with ease. All Tyrone's power in his muscular body had been rendered useless by this skilled muscleman named Mule who had bested him.

The tortured man looked up and through his tears saw the cause of his agony, his humiliation. Tyrone's eyes roamed over Mule's fantastically masculine body, assessing his brawny magnificence Mule stood over Tyrone, legs firmly planted apart, the muscles of his belly flexing with each breath, his mighty man-rammer thick and hard. His hot cock was a truly magnificent specimen of manhood, solid, veined, straight and throbbing with stored power.

Mule was tougher, more rugged, than any man he had ever met.  He had never been defeated in his life, but this man had thrashed him, made him crawl like an animal, whipped his naked chest, humiliated him by streaming hot, rancid piss over him, and then made him suffer the degradation of having a man plough his ass. The pounding had been brutal as the iron rod rammed again and again deep into the black man’s shuddering ass.   The piston in his gut had been the worst pain he had ever felt and Tyrone had had to steel himself from passing out.  But Tyrone's screams had finally abated and he looked up at his tormentor with a steely gaze, equal parts hostility and admiration.

Between heaving breaths, Mule taunted him.    “Not so big are you now, asshole. You mother-fucking son-of-a-bitch. Let’s see how much you can take.”

With Mule's mighty weapon buried up his ass, Tyrone knew he was beaten and he managed to beg in a rasping voice.   “OK, man ….. You’ve won.   I’m finished.   Please ….. I’ve had enough.   No more …… please.    You’ve beaten me.”

“You bet your life I have, asshole,” Mule growled.    “This is The Mule your dealing with now, and I am the best.”   He hauled back and swung one last brutal fist across Tyrone’s face.   Tyrone's head flew sideways, his massive body hovered in mid-air before he crashed to the ground senseless.

“Please, sir.   I’m begging you.   I can’t take any more.   Please stop, sir.   You win.  You’ve beaten me.” Tyrone begged...

“Who won the fight?”  Mule demanded....

“You, sir. You’ve broken me. You are the best. I submit, sir. Please, I beg you. I submit!”

 They had fought savagely, beaten each other and finally the incredible Mule had broken the mighty Tyrone, made him beg, call him sir. Mule the vanquisher.

He released him straightaway. After giving him a look of respect which he returned, Tyrone moved off, nursing his damaged body and ego. Tyrone had probably never lost a fight in his life before today and certainly had never taken a cock in his ass, and would probably have trouble getting his head round what had just happened.

Mule didn’t doubt that Tyrone would be back. No man built like that and able to fight as he could was simply going to slink away with his tail between his legs for good. He looked forward to it, even though next time he would be even more dangerous since he would have a score to settle.

In the meantime, talking of things between the legs, he realized his cock was raging hard.

He needed a fuck… as he started to go through the ladies on his phone... neighbor chick, Trisha the front desk girl, funeral chick, MMA chick, Blondie the bus ride chick...

Later that night, Tyrone was both horny and angry, his thoughts filled with revenge, and yet to his chagrin, as he stroked his big black cock, it was the image of Mule the Conqueror seared into his brain, and that image was what he masturbated to- Mule would have to pay for THAT, too.

Read about Tyrone's Fantasy  and some backstory about Tyrone in Tyrone vs. Cop plus further Mule v. Tyrone in The Strength Contest.