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Mule vs Muscle Gramps
Story by Mule, edits by Stefan, original art by Steve
I had just got through with my MMA workout at the MMA gym I frequent on weekends in Denver. I had rolled with a dude who was about 220 and it had been a good sparing session. But as usual, given my size (6'3'' 259 lbs) and strength (620 Squat, 445 Bench, 715 Deadlift = 1780 Total), he really hadn't been able to push me to my limits.
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| King of the Gym! |
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| Somebody is all 'miring what I got going on! |
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| Another damn jock sniffer? |
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| Get your tickets to the gun show, kid! |
I had just pulled off my rash guard and was standing by my locker as I was stripping down to shower, when up comes this kid that I have seen in here a lot. I couldn't remember his name but I knew the type, thinks he's all hard cause he plays football and wrestles in this fancy High School he goes to. Thinks he's all tough and acts like a G living the thug life, but drives a BMW. He is just a privileged white boy from a rich family.
So the kid comes up to me and I'm like "sup" cus he's standing there mouth agape while I'm undressing like he wants to say something. I hope he is not just ANOTHER jock-sniffer masquerading as a real dude.
"That was a great session Mule. I seen you on the mats a lot and there ain't no one at this dojo anywhere near your level. " So I'm thinking: "Thanks Captain Obvious, what else is new...." but I nod politely as I pull off my sprawl shorts. It's a locker room after all as I add one more swinging dick to the after practice sausage fest. Of course, as always, I brought the biggest sausage.
"So I hear you sometimes do private wrestling matches....." the kid starts. I just smile. "Sorry kid, you're just not in my league....." I say, still trying to be polite. "Not for me..." the kid says, "and he's willing to pay. I heard you sometimes do Wrestler for Hire for charity...." --the persistent fuck continues.
"That would run you more than you can afford, boyo..." as I try to stay pleasant with this annoying little cum stain.
"I see you sometimes wear one of those pink titty cancer shirts...", I think: "Shit why is this little turd still talking at me." I start deciding which punch I should use to lay him out flat.
"...would you do it for a donation to titty cancer for $......" as he suddenly mentions a figure that got my attention. "You got that kinda money?" I ask. "Not me, but my grandfather is filthy rich, hes's the one that wants the match...."
"WTF, your grandfather? Your like 18, how old is your fucking grandfather?"
"He just turned 78."
"Are you fucking kidding me? Am I being punked? Is there a camera? C'mon out Ashton!"
"Nah, man. Dead serious. I have wrestled with my Grandpa for years and I'm am an all state champion. I can't take him. To be honest dude, I don't know if anybody can. I mean I have watched all your matches and to be honest my grandfather will kick your ass."
I'm not sure if this kid is serious. "The fuck dude, I ain't wrestling some old man from Shady Pines Nursing Home that's gonna break a hip or something. I am sure he is as spry as Bernie Sanders, but I am not going to kill some old dude. even for charity. You trying to collect on his insurance or something?"
"LOL, my gramps is anything but decrepit. In fact, he's near your size. And strong as fuck. He's been lifting since the 1960's. He knew all the old school bodybuilders from the 60's, 70's and 80's, he knew a bunch of pro wrestlers from back in the day too. He is more Jack LaLanne than Bernie Sanders."
I am thinking: "Who the fuck is Jack LaLanne? Must be somebody at Shady Pines, that gramps knew back when both still had teeth."
The hamster in my noggin was hard at his wheel: "That's a lot of money he's offering. How long could it take...like 90 seconds if I stretch it... and its not like the old dude doesn't have Medicare. It's a hard offer to pass up. I need to do it for the tittys. I should have him sign something before hand to protect myself from any liability." That's your Mule, body like Hercules, mind like Johnnie Cochran.
Fast forward a few days. I have email confirmation that the huge donation was made by direct transfer. I can't believe I am actually gonna do this but it's kind of like fucking a whale, it's o.k. as long as no body finds out. So I am tooling in my jeep through one of the older upscale sections of Denver. Big expensive houses on huge lots. I find the house, and its a nice one. Gramps obviously did well for himself. I see the kid's Bimmer pulled in the garage next to a top of the line immaculately kept up 15 year old Mercedes. Yeah, this must be the place.
The Kid opened the front door and motioned Mule inside. The Mule stepped into the large entry hall. This place was like something off of MTV "Cribs". Nice fucking house...
Fast forward a few days. I have email confirmation that the huge donation was made by direct transfer. I can't believe I am actually gonna do this but it's kind of like fucking a whale, it's o.k. as long as no body finds out. So I am tooling in my jeep through one of the older upscale sections of Denver. Big expensive houses on huge lots. I find the house, and its a nice one. Gramps obviously did well for himself. I see the kid's Bimmer pulled in the garage next to a top of the line immaculately kept up 15 year old Mercedes. Yeah, this must be the place.
The Kid opened the front door and motioned Mule inside. The Mule stepped into the large entry hall. This place was like something off of MTV "Cribs". Nice fucking house...
"What exactly did your Gramps do for a living?" I ask as I am checking out a chandelier that the kid tells me was previous owned by Mussolini and Liberace (never heard of them but the way the kid said it they must have been some body).
"Gramps is a retired 4-star Air Force General but he made the big bucks after he retired. He went to work as an International Arms Dealer. He used his connections to sell missiles to middle eastern countries. " this kid answers. I thought that was interesting, I didn't know the Air Force had been around that long, or even airplanes for that matter.
“This way,” the Kid said, walking down a hall with your Mule following. As he rounded the corner, I saw a doorway heading into the basement. The Kid was already reaching the basement floor and turning the corner when I started down the stairs.
A corridor at the bottom of the stairs framed a partially opened door halfway down a hallway, a light coming from inside. I entered the room and quickly assessed my surroundings.
It was a huge space. The ceiling was high, and there was a lot of open floor space, most of it covered with gym mats, but the room was empty of furniture.
“Quite a little romper room you’ve got down here,” I said, stretching my shoulders as I stepped onto the mats. “I get the impression that you do this sort of thing a lot,” I said with a wink. I slipped my feet out of my sneaks and kicked them into the corner behind the door. "So where's your Grand Daddy?" I asked.
"Right here!" said a strong, deep sonorous voice behind your Mule.
When I did a 180, what I saw was nothing less than startling. An old man wearing only a jock strap, looking like a jacked up version of Floyd the Barber on Andy of Mayberry! Well maybe if Floyd had been popping steroids back in the day!
I could tell the old boy had had some muscle in his day but, in comparison with Mule's bulging body, it was like someone let the air out of him. From his frame he must have been a beast in his prime which I figured must have been back during the Nixon Administration. Still I don't know what the fuck the kid was thinking when he described Dodger Codger as being NEAR MY SIZE. Maybe he had been once, but not now, not even CLOSE.
Still it was not the image I had in mind. I was thinking more Walter Matthau in Grumpy Old Men then Clint Eastwood in Gran Turino. I was at a loss for words for what may have been the only time in my life, I stammered a "umm, I'm Mule, pleased to meet you, sir..." my good upbringing about being respectful to old people suddenly taking over. [Shout outs to Mom and my late Ganny, they done their best to try and civilize me!] I had stuck out my hand planning to give him an intimidating Mule handshake, but just as he was extending out his hand, he whipped it back and up in a 'too slow' maneuver and rubbed his scalp while he gave me a disdainful sneer. I noticed he didn't even bother to introduce himself, muthafucker!
"Well sonny boy, I am the man that's going to kick your ass till you cry like a girl, so you can just keep calling me sir..." came the reply.
"OK, you old motherfucker, if that's the way you want it...let's do this" I snarled back with a shrug of my mile wide shoulders. I had tried to be nice, now he was gonna see the beast that Mom and Ganny couldn't tame! "Time to feel the kick of a Mule" I thought. "Come to think of it, this guy prolly had been kicked by mules before, he was such an old-timer he probably prospected with mules before he hit the mother lode and bought this place." I stripped off my shirt and jeans, throwing them into a corner. Now clad in just my speedo, I couldn't help but think it must have looked to the grandson like Hercules getting ready to throw down with old King Eurystheus after them 12 labors. Gramps should have did what the Ol' King E. did and hid in a giant pithos jar.
I didn't want to break the old codger but, maybe this crusty old curmudgeon was due a little pain and suffering because of his Angry Old Man remarks. So regardless of how ridiculous the challenge was, I am a competitor to the core, and I put myself into "the zone" like I did before any bout, pretty soon I was tenting my briefs in anticipation..... [No I don't have no old man fetish you pervs, the thrill of combat makes me horny...you should KNOW that about your Mule by now!]
The two sinewy warriors met in the center of the room. One muscle warrior was fully a half a century older than the other one. Still I had to admit, my opponent didn't look too shabby for someone born during the FDR administration. I grant you, He was a big dude for the Thursday Bingo Set, but he was already past his prime by the day I was born. Me, well you know the muscle I am packing, I am so big I have serious MEATHEADS 'miring and drooling over me at all the gyms I grace with my presence.
Muscle Gramps raised his hands and spread his fingers. I nodded knowingly. A true test of strength right off the bat. I smiled. Your Mule knew he outclassed the Old fart in height, brawn and arm length. I thus held the leverage advantage and, when I brought this old strongman down to his knees, it would cause Muscle Gramps such a great loss of confidence ... may be it would also bring him to his senses and the need for any injury could be avoided. "The match might even end right then", I thought.
The heavily muscled men locked fingers and immediately started trying to force the other down. We moved closer, banging our massive, heaving chests together. The septuagenarian was still packing extensive muscle on a barrel chest, although nothing in the same league as me. "Good on you, old-timer" I thought, "Good on you!" Still I am a musclegod, and he a mere mortal, and an aged one at that. If I put my full Mule-power into this match, his Methuselah bones were going to go all snap, crackle and pop!
But as we went mano e mano, I found the old gaffer matching me sinew for sinnew. DAYUM if this old coot didn't have the proverbial "old man strength" -- the crazy insane strength you gain when you become an old man. The uncanny ability of older men, especially Tradies, to lift copious amounts of lumber, heavy furniture, and beat much younger men in arm wrestling. It is usually lost around the ages of 65-70 depending on your health but this old geezer still had it in spades. Grandson wasn't lying...this old dude was one spry mutherfucker.
The two grapplers grunted and strained as we stood chest to chest, nipples to nipples, hands locked tightly in place. We pushed with all our might as our red faces grimaced from our strenuous exertion as our bull necks strained with such intensity that the veins seemed to almost pop through our flesh. We were both already sweating bullets from the strenuous effort. Our arms were huge, puffed up to their maximum sizes, the old man's swelling to near Mule-size. Eventually with tremendous strain your Mule got my hands on top. Now the leverage was mine. I confidently exerted my strength to bear on the old man's muscles.
Still that wasn't enough, the wrestler-in-winter still resisted me. Every time I upped the game, he successfully countered. No matter how hard I pushed he would push back just as hard. I found myself wondering just how strong this old fucker was. I don't think this geezer realized RESISTANCE WAS FUTILE, and he was just going to get himself hurt!
Finally I went ALL IN. Every fiber in my body strained to force the mighty septuagenarian down to his knees. The striations of my arms damn near burst through my Mule-skin as I exerted all my superhuman strength. Slowly Muscle Gramps felt himself being forced to his knees. Desperately he tried to reverse the leverage, but could not. Like your Mule, with his teeth clenched, the senescent grappler strained with every ounce of strength he possessed, as the veins in his massive arms, chest and neck stood out. His muscles worked furiously to regain control. Muscle Gramps managed to stay up only for a moment more before collapsing with a powerful thud to one knee. C'mon readers, like this was ever in doubt? Just look at him, now LOOK AT ME!
"Yes Yoda", thought your Mule. "Feel the power of the YOUNG SIDE!" Instead of letting up I continued to push down with all my strength, hoping to bring the septuagenarian to both knees. "Remember, old man, you paid for this in cash, now you will pay in pain," grunted this young, cocky muscleman through gritted teeth. "You can call it quits, anytime."
Muscle Gramps was unfazed by this turn of events. "Never yield to anyone under thirty!" he grunted back. He knew I was strong, his eyes might be old, but they weren't blind! But he was in this for the long haul. His endurance and strength were unparalleled. He looked up at this magnificent blond titan, staring directly at your Mule's heaving massive chest. He was impressed at how mammoth it really was: packed with sinew rather than fat...here was not one of the young softies typical of this enfeebled generation. Even when they were trim like his grandson, they were enfeebled by a marshmallow spirit. This Mule had one heck of a kick to him... still this was a member of the selfies on social media generation, and he was GOING DOWN!
Down on one knee, Gramps was eye level with this Mule's monstrous super cock only partially contained within my speedo, and now wildly pulsating just below his doddering old chin. The elderly Muscledad of an ancient bygone age, no doubt could only wonder how he was going to drain all my super strength from my massive OLYMPIAN body. I was sure he was FEEBLY FANTASIZING about leaving me thoroughly weak and helpless so he could destroy me. "Dream on old-timer...you've FALLEN AND YOU CAN'T GET UP." I sneered as I continued to use all my strength to hold him down.
This spurred Muscle Gramps to reach deep down inside himself. He would prove to this cocky young meathead and his grandson that he was the stronger muscleman. Muscle Gramps redoubled his efforts to conquer me. The mighty septuagenarian began to push back with renewed strength . The renewed force of Muscle Gramps surprised me. I teetered back on my heels. This momentary loss of balance cost me dearly. Immediately Muscle Gramps powered himself back up to his feet as he gained the leverage advantage. I strained. MY face flinched with pain, but I could not reverse the hold. Slowly I was getting closer and closer to being brought to MY knees.
The Mighty Methuselah was completely focused on the match. He wanted this fight to be conclusive, but unlike your Mule with the impatience of my generation, the Geezer wanted it to be a slow, deliberate contest of sheer strength. He wanted to gain respect from his grandson and his opponent. With each exertion he felt his more muscled-up opponent, your Bluto-esque Mule, fading under his Popeye-runt power. My massively muscular arms and legs struggled against the septuagenarian’s pressure. Ancient muscles began to pop and bulge out as my elderly adverary's physique began to swell up with muscle and then even more muscle. Using all my strength, this young Muscleman pushed against the much older man, eventually working my way back up to a standing position. Our chests again collided, nipples pushing deep into the nipples of our respective foe. Straining with all my might, I felt my mammoth thighs began to quiver. After minutes of this incredible show of raw power between these two supermen, my now shaking big legs gave way. Your Mule fell to both my knees with a crashing thud that shook the entire room. I had been forced down by this 78 year old powerhouse! The old muscle fart had out muscled and overpowered me! The grandson smiled. I had lost the test of strength! WTF! I was astonished. As I looked around in my astonishment, first at Gramps and then at the kid, I was doubly surprised to see that I was the only one in the room that was shocked by the outcome! And for the first time, I recognized that Muscle Gramps was a real credible challenge.
Sure your Mule had lost this titanic test of strength to someone who did the twist to Chubby Checker, and now was twisting my sinews into knots....
...but my confidence was still high. How much stamina could Mr. Yesteryear have in the long run when he was clearly counting down his remaining heartbeats and knock knock knocking on heaven's door?
I knew that I had lost the leverage advantage, but I have been in tougher spots against far younger opponents, and it was INEVITABLE that I would soon be once again in total control. No Geritol-slurping-grandpa was going to get the best of ME.
I was still being held on my knees. The front of Gramp's jock is distended. He's getting hard. That cock looks impressive as fuck. Taking full advantage of the situation, the senior grappler began to sway his hips, viciously grinding his powerful jock-clad sex tool into this Mule’s handsome face. "Fuck," I thought as I was cock slapped so hard I was nearly seeing stars. He's got an iron boner on him, and a huge one at that, dayum! I thought cocks had expiration dates or something. Still that gives me hope for my future...
Slap, slap,slap. Boy this hung old fucker is packing a huge, throbbing rock solid horse sized cock.... Gramps was packing a kielbasa, it wasn't no Vienna sausage cock slapping your champion. It felt as big and as hard as my Mule Dick!
Your young Muscleman hero, grimacing from the onslaught, jerked my head from side to side trying to avoid the humiliating cock slapping, but it was all in vain. Repeatedly Muscle Gramp's fully packed jock pouch ground away at my face to assert dominance/superiority as he held me down on my knees. Still holding tightly onto this Mule’s fingers Muscle Gramp's bulging muscles forced his musclebound opponent to stay down on my knees, to the delight of his grinning grandson. For several minutes he kept up the face grinding attack as he grunted continuously in erotic pleasure. Clearly visible on my face was sheer agonizing distress as your trapped Mule began to weave about on my knees, eventually falling backwards under the barbaric assault.
Finally, Muscled Yesteryear let go of this Mule's fingers, allowing me to get up. We two rivals from different eras stood facing each other, our eyes locked together, as pure hate radiated from your Mule's eyes. I kept coughing to clear my throat as I vigorously shook out my hand and arms. Muscle Gramps gloating over his momentary victory, flexed his mighty arms right in the Mule's face. As a result of the workout he had put them through in bettering me in the contest they were now swole to the size of mine. I can't lie, the sweaty old muscleman looked impressive as fuck. "Now who is the strongest?" he crowed triumphantly. "If I hadn't let you up, I was thinking you would activate YOUR Life-alert! Hello,This is Mule, I have fallen and I can't get up!' he snorted, turning my earlier joke back on me.
Smoke rose from both my ears, but your humiliated Mule could not, however, follow up. My arms needed to recover first. I shook out my delts and arms, trying to regain feeling. This was not what I had expected at all. I had not even been holding back. The old man had stood up to my full strength and massive muscular size. He had somehow actually out muscled and over powered me. Yet look at him, and look at me! Something was not right, was the kid slipping PCP into the old man's Geritol? The geezer had taken me to school, and now I was barely holding my own against this elderly muscle stud. I guess there is something to this "Greatest Generation" shit, these old timers didn't become back to back World War Champions by being a bunch of pansies.
Muscle gramps stood in front of me, hands on hips. His big chest and eight pack abs were heaving. His ancient muscles, now pumped full of blood and testosterone from our struggle, bulged and flexed. His arms and torso looked almost as beefy as mine!
This Mule glared at this display of pure testosterone bravado. "That was a fluke, I lost my balance, " I explained. " If you think for a second that you overpowered these cannons of mine you're in for a great disappointing surprise," I said as I flexed my massive guns right back at the old bull.
So two muscular beasts, standing face to face, flexed our bodies, showing off the muscle that we had brought into the battle. His muscles pumped from the strain of battle, the old man was looking considerably bigger and more formidable. His abs rippled and his pecs bounced. Fuck, make that a lot bigger! This wasn't some past his prime old muscleman. As hard as it is for me to wrap my head around it, I am squared off with a fellow super-powerful bodybuilder. OK, it's time to show this geriatric muscle freak who was boss!
As your confident young Mule crouched into a most muscular pose, Muscle Gramps hit me with a surprise attack by slamming his fist squarely into my exposed jutting jaw.
The powerful blow sent this Mule peddling backwards into the wall, knocking the wind out of me with a huge grunt of exhalation: "UUUUUUFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHH...!!!"
I saw only stars as the room whirled around my head. A look of complete dumbfounded shock covered my face. Sweet Baby Jezus, this old dude is packing one hell of a punch! I began to sink down to the floor on my muscle butt. Taking full advantage of the situation, Muscle Gramps strutted forward with his hands firmly placed on his hips. He stood right in front of this young Muscleman who was STILL woozy from the punch, my head lethargically hung down to my great chest as I sagged against the wall. Kicking my legs far apart, the seasoned grappler stepped between them, grabbed your Mule’s hair as he shoved my head backwards with my mouth opened wide like a carp gulping air. Once more he savagely rammed his jock enclosed cock and ball sack into this humiliated Mule's face. A huge right cross ain't the only huge thing this old dude is packing if you know what I mean.
My mighty arms flapped widely in punch-drunk desperation. My rubbery legs were splayed wide apart and flopped about as my body bounced and jerked against this brutal humiliation. “How do you like my big cock's taste and smell?” snarled Muscle Gramps as he kept up his assault on my olfactory and gustatory senses. "You going queer for it yet, PUNK?!"
"Fuck this!" I thought, as all I could smell and taste was talcum powder, testosterone, and old man's ball sweat. But as disgusted as my brain was, my cock has a mind of its' own, and began to thicken and grow at the disturbing smells and tastes.
I reach into my trunks to adjust my hardening cock, which leaves my abs wide open. I get another of Gramp's huge punches, this one a mighty body blow to my chiseled washboard. THUD! OOF! I lose my air.
Gramps steps over and around me, smoothly locking me into an ab stretch.
I groan as I'm bent sideways, my side obliques stretched out. He locks it in perfectly. Another real move. I'm feeling this. He suddenly adds in powerful forearms and fists, breaking down my abs. THUD! THUD! THUD! I grunt as I take the punishment, my body absorbing what it can, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling. THUD! THUD! THUD! I cry out for real this time.
Muscle Gramps releases the ab stretch, but immediately pulls me into a reverse bearhug. I gasp as he crushes my midsection. I try to pry his arms apart, but Gramps is too strong. He's crushing me. I feel him grind his cock against my ass. I let out a long moan at that move. He asks if I'm a slut. I mutter a threat, but he laughs it off.
Then Gramps lowers his bearhug and grabs my bulge. I let out a high-pitched whimper as he fondles my manhood with his right hand while grinding my ass. Gramps grabs my hair and pulls my head back. He forces me to turn so we're facing the mirror.
Gramps whispers in my ear, "Look at yourself, jobber."
I moan as Gramps controls my head, making me to look at myself in the mirror. I normally love doing it, but now it feels different. It's like he owns me. The combination of pain and being thoroughly dominated so quickly has me feeling surprisingly submissive in his arms.
Gramps releases the claw on my manhood and his grip on my hair. He circles in front and rubs my pecs.
Gramps nods, "Yeah, nice muscles." Suddenly, he punches me in the gut. THUD! OOF! I bend forward. He grabs my hair and pulls my face up. The champ grabs my cheeks in one hand. He repeats, “Nice muscles.” Then he yells at me, "START USING THEM, BITCH!"
I suddenly realize that I'm not living up to my end of the deal. Gramps didn't pay for a prettyboy muscle jobber. He's paying for a tough match with a tough young stud muscleman wrestler.
I glare at him angrily. I’m nobody’s bitch. This old fucker wants me to use my muscles? He’s going to regret that.
The battle begins again. We circle and lockup. I match his power this time as I push him to the side. I lift my knees into his abs. THUD! OOF! He bends forward, so I grab him in a front facelock. He grunts as I lift up, pressing my forearm into his windpipe.
Still locked in my headlock Gramps grunts again, and then says to me, "Better!"
As I use my headlock to drag him around the room by the head, Gramps suddenly grabs me around the waist. He runs me back into the wall. WHAM! I sag for a moment, leaving myself wide open for some vicious ab punches. POW! THUD! POW! I cry out as he hammers my six-pack. Fuck! THUD! POW! THUD! I’ve got abs as strong as concrete, but I’m still feeling these shots.
Gramps must have some boxing back in the Navy, because he’s working me over like a heavy bag. POW! THUD! POW! I try to block him, but he swats my arms away. THUD! POW! THUD! I try to push him back, but he’s got his legs bent for a low center of gravity. I slide lower on the wall. Muscle Gramps backs off for a moment and I fall onto my ass, gasping for air. PLOP!
Gramps grabs me by my feet and drags me across the carpet until my back stings from rug burn. Then he lifts my legs then pushes them apart sharply. WRENCH! ARGH! Pain shoots out from my stretched groin. I try to close my legs, but Gramps drops down and starts back in with fists to my abs. THUD! POW! THUD! My abs are screaming in pain from the relentless abuse.
Now I had had enough of this humiliation. I set my feet and with one great leap upward, plowed my shoulder into my venerable attacker’s cock. Muscle Gramp's stunned face showed pain like he had not experienced in DECADES. Again your Mule managed to jump up smashing the septuagenarian’s nut sack, this time lifting the old man up off his feet. This young Muscleman shrugged my boulder size shoulders, tossing Muscle Gramps off of me like I was brushing off lint. The mighty senior muscleman tumbled to the floor on his back with his hands cupped over his balls. I stood up ringing out my arms and spitting out the taste of geezer from my mouth as I gazed down with disgust on my downed opponent.
I tell him, “I can’t wait to stand and do my victory flex over you. My foot on your chest. Out with the old, in with the new.”
Gramps looks up at me and snarls, “A lot talk for such a little boy. Not much else.”
I approached and started to haul the old grappler off the floor by a hair pull when Muscle Gramps struck once again. He slugged me in my low hanging lemon sized balls. I bellowed like a bull being castrated and doubled over heaving my guts to the point of almost vomiting. Slowly the septuagenarian lifted himself ever so slowly up to his feet still clutching his nut sack with one hand. With a determined look he focused all his attention on your poor hero still doubled over in torment and holding my balls. Your Mule had definitely come out the loser in the exchange of low blows. His wrinkled old man balls had proven tougher than my big jock nuts. Muscle Gramps reached down to capture one of my massive arms to bend it backwards into a half nelson. Using his leverage advantage he turned the half nelson into an arm bar. Your Mule, still suffering the agony of the ball attack, groaned out in pain, my face wincing. Holding the twisted arm of his opponent up high, Muscle Gramps made your Mule dance about like a marionette to the audible delight of his grandson. I was being made to look the clown!
A great smile of sadistic pride caressed the grandson's lips as his grandpa made the mighty Mule prance helplessly about the room. The grandson was tenting in his pants, long jealous of your Mule's prowess in the dojo, he found my humiliation at the hands of his Grandpa utterly arousing.
Muscle Gramps then lowered the arm bar. He viciously tugged on my arm, pulling me in close. This Nordic muscle god then powerfully clobbered Past Tense hard across his great chest with a standing clothesline that dropped the aging grappler to the floor flat on his back. Gramps lay there spread eagle, staring straight up into the overhead lights. The wind had been completely knocked out of him. I placed one foot on my musclebound opponent’s mountainous chest as I flexed both my mighty arms in triumph.
I had got cocky and Past Due grabbed hold of my ankle and flipped me on MY back knocking the wind out of me for the second time. My head hit so hard I was hearing ringing bells and seeing stars. Tables turned YET AGAIN.
Then Old News held the high ground again and straddled my waist. Slowly, majestically, Muscle Gramps lowered himself to sit down across your Mule’s mammoth thighs. Again he flexed his arms, next he performed a lat spread, then back again to a double biceps pose, kissing each arm as he smirked down at his opponent. The testosterone and blood pumped through the old warrior's thick veins and his venerable figure had grown more swole and more impressive through out our battle, due to the greater circulation going through his system. His pumped up biceps were now round and huge. His sagging pecs were now bulging with rock hard muscle. Muscle Gramps glanced at his grandson who was jerking off to his Gramp's sweaty, glistening muscle packed body. Gramps turned, giving him a cocky smirk and a bounce of a pec. The grandson was definitely turned on. I watched in amazement at the arrogant display of newly pumped and inflated muscle that Gramps was putting on. I could see that the old dude was packing serious muscle ... a hell of a lot of muscle actually. Gramps was matching me muscle for muscle!
Before I could fully regain my senses. Muscle Gramps raised himself up onto his haunches, leaned forward placing his hands on my shoulders, pinning me to the mat. He also folded his lower legs across my massive thighs to hold my legs in place. I desperately squirmed beneath Muscle Gramp’s heavily muscled body trying to extricate myself before I slumped like a sack of potatoes, seemingly totally conquered. As I looked up into the face of my senior citizen tormentor; I saw nothing but determination and confidence in the old man's eyes as I struggled to free myself. Seeing the shocked surprize in my eyes, he began to speak. “Yes, now you know. You can feel it for yourself. I'm stronger! I'm better, I AM the man, and you are nothing, NOTHING, but my battered bottom bitch” taunted Muscle Gramps right in my face.
He had no doubt that he was in complete control of the match, that he was showing his grandson that he was the strongest man in the room. The superior alpha male, totally dominating a man five decades his junior. The grandson was wildly jacking, totally losing all sense of decorum in his excitement. Gramps could plainly see in my eyes such a cowed look, that he knew I was already thinking of him as the dominant XY in this epic contest of male supremacy.
But an ember of pride still burned in the ashes of my defeat and humiliation. With my teeth gritted tightly together, my face grimacing with determination, with saliva sputtering out of the corners of my mouth, your Mule gathered up all my incredible strength before it was too late. With one super human effort I blasted both my legs straight up in the air, catapulting an unsuspecting Muscle Gramps up and over my head. This time it was the Old-timer's cocksure complacency that had been his undoing.
The musclebound beast landed hard on the floor from the impact. Muscle Gramps hit with such force that his muscled body sprawled motionless on the floor. The stunned grandson stopped stroking his knob and sat in shocked silence shaking his head in total disbelief of the power that your Mule possessed in my mammoth legs. As this Mule struggled to my feet, I knew how hair-breath close I had been brought to not only losing the match, but being made the bitch of a man with so many decades on me. As fatigue washed over me, your Mule staggered to a nearby corner where I collapsed exhausted against the wall, the great plates of my mountainous chest heaving heavily for each breath of air. I hoped that THIS time like in the TV commercial, Gramps had fallen and couldn't get up. But no such luck.
Coming to his senses, Muscle Gramps slowly he got to his feet. He was noticeably slower from the fall. He too collapsed against a wall diagonally opposite from the Mule. With their heads bent low both muscle gladiators gasped for breath for the next few moments. But it was the young Muscleman who was the first to move away from his wall. Muscle Gramps looked up. He saw me moving toward him like a charging bull. Gathering up his sagging strength he bolted forward. As we were about to slam into one another, Muscle Gramps karate kicked me square in me abdomen, doubling me over. "Where the fuck did that come from?" I thought as I stayed bent over and holding my belly with both hands, stunned by the old man's agile kick.
Before I could straighten back up, the old muscleman caught me around the waist, throwing me up and over his shoulder in a backbreaker. For a couple of seconds Muscle Gramps held your Mule in place bouncing this young Muscleman up and down as he racked the small of my back with torturous pain. I howled out in agony. My mighty arms and legs flopped about disjointedly. It was an incredible show of strength. Then Muscle Gramps body slammed me down across his knee in a bone cracking backbreaker that elicited another howl of agony from me as he almost broke me in half. The old man was kicking my ass. He pressed down on my legs and chin, bending me in an excruciating bow. The septuagenarian felt totally recharged and in control once more. He stood up, cradling your Mule in his arms. With great ease he hauled me up high over his head in a gorilla press. Deliberately heaping some more humiliation on his much younger muscular adversary, Muscles-Past pressed your Mule up and down, turning me into a human barbell. On the third rep, the mighty Muscle Gramps, with authority, bodyslammed me to the hard floor. I lay there in near unconsciousness moaning in pain. "My Fucking back...." is all I could think. He had taken me to school earlier, now he was taking me to the cleaners.
The old man stood over me, chest and abs heaving. He had just shown his SUPERIOR strength in a series of power moves where he had thrown my 260 lbs body around like a rag doll. As I struggled to stay conscious, I realized I had just been totally dominated and humiliated in a one-sided complete beat down . He had almost snapped my spine and broken me in half. This freakish old muscleman's strength was fucking incredible.
I had just been karmically punished with a straight up ass beating, I must have been a sadistic orderly at a nursing home in a former life. I had just been handed an ass whooping so good that you could have sworn it was in HD with SURROUNDSOUND.
Muscle Gramps straddled the spread eagle body of his half century younger rival. To the renewed immense pleasure of his fapping grandson he began to triumphantly pose his huge bulging Popeye post- spinach muscles.
"You're not looking too good, Mule...in fact you are getting smoked....you ready to give up?" the Kid asked me with a huge grin on his face. "Fuck, NO! It's not over yet...." I groaned. "Yeah, it's not over.... but you're losing...losing big time....and Gramps is just getting started" the cocky kid replied.
"How confident do you feel now that you know what my Gramps can do? He just kicked your ass. You still think you have a chance of winning, Mule?" the Kid asked. "Do ya? Huh? Do ya?"
"Fuck you..." I growled.
"You scared to bet your ass on it? the Kid taunted.
"What the fuck....?" was my surprised response.
"You heard me, Mule. Put your ass on the line. When my Grandpa beats you he gets to fuck you in the ass....unless your scared..."
I realized I was trapped. There was no way my ego or my pride was going to let me be a pussy and say no. The thought of being fucked by this gross, wrinkled old man was revolting. The huge rock hard boner that had stretched out his jock the entire match was proof that this ancient muscleman still had the working equipment necessary to fuck me good and solid. The beating I had taken so far was proof that him winning, as hard as it was for me to admit it, was possible. Fuck, based on the ass kicking he had just given me in our last exchange, the odds makers would say it was probable. But, I had no choice. I swallowed hard and said the words.
"OK, I will put up my ass. I lose, your Grandpa gets to fuck me ... " I agreed, reluctantly.
"Fuck yeahhhhh....!!!" the Kid shouted excitedly.
With the bet being made and my ass now the prize, Muscle Gramps reached down to clutch one of my arms. He brutally hauled me up. This Mule, stilled dazed, tottered about. The septuagenarian took a wide stance. My fabulously muscular body was pulled against Muscle Gramp's equally muscled body in an elaborate dance where he led and I followed, dipped back like the chick partner, as the old muscle god wrapped his now massively pumped arms around my waist.
I found myself captured in the deadly bone crushing vise-like grip of the battle tested muscleman’s bearhug. Muscle Gramps instantly burrowed his head under my right arm as he applied more deadly pressure to his devastating hold. He was vainly proud of his superhuman strength that had been thoroughly humbling much larger men since the Eisenhower Presidency. I was just one of a long list of boastful studs turned into simpering duds. He’d often had shown off his power to his grandson, by defeating and fucking many much younger musclemen. But his grandson had never had the opportunity to see him defeat and fuck a man my size. Now he had the supreme opportunity to show off his phenomenal strength to his grandson by besting someone as big as I was. It had been a long time since he had he faced an opponent my size, yet he still had what it took to fell this sequoia like I was a sapling. The grandson grinned like a Cheshire cat as Gramps squeezed boastful cockiness out of my body like I was a mop being put through the ringer. He was crushing this strong Muscleman Mule to pieces in the vise of his mighty arms. Tears were welling in my eyes from the colossal effort of the struggle and sheer embarrassment of being bested by a man with one foot in the grave. I would love to say it was merely dust in my eyes, but I know you wouldn't believe such an assertion.
Every grappler young and old knows that the bearhug is the greatest demonstration of one man dominating another, Muscle Gramps longed to give Mule a taste of this and show off his ultimate power: crushing my mammoth musclebound body to smithereens against the anvil of his timeless preternatural strength.
He would enjoy overcoming me in his powerful embrace, forcing this muscular young giant to submit while his grandson watched, fapped and cheered. The very thought of the glory of victory over a stud, so much his junior, was making the old-timer harder than from the cialis that was normally required to sustain any sort of erection in his aging donger. His hard on was as solid and strong as a teenager's boner.
Muscle Gramps wrapped his rock hard guns around the small of my back. He began squeezing with all his strength. His face grimaced from his mighty effort. He immediately began to shake hard, up and down, my huge, muscular body. Your Mule felt the awesome power of the old man. I groaned in pain as I desperately struggled to free myself. “Give up, Sonny boy” demanded Muscle-Memory through clenched teeth.
“NEVER!” I roared defiantly as I began to desperately club the broad back of my tormentor with my left hand.
Gramps leaned forward and put his mouth right next to my ear as he said “Give up! You know you want too! You’ve been needing somebody big and strong like me who can dominate you” Gramps began to grind into my pubes. He rubbed his eight pack abs against mine. I could feel his thick rock hard horse cock rubbing against mine. Only the thin cotton of his jock strap and the thin spandex of my speedo were separating our twin python cocks from each other. He used his cock to masturbate mine with long firm strokes. I groaned in pleasure.
Once again Gramps hissed in my ear “You need to be fucked, Muscleboy. You need me to fuck you over and over and over again and again and again, don’t you?” teased Gramps as he continued to masturbate his beefy challenger.
I was rapidly panting for breath. Disgusting as it was, Gramp's grinding on my cock was turning me on. And as much as I hate to admit it, his seductive words were getting to me also. Gramps had me trapped and continue to squeeze me. I began to feel submissive due to my powerless position. It turned me on even more.
Gramp's nuzzled my cheek as he continued to whisper in my ear. “I think you like me kicking your ass, like I’ve done all evening,
because it feels sooooooooo gooooooood being dominated by another muscleman, doesn’t it? Is there any thing hotter than one bodybuilder defeating and then fucking another bodybuilder?”
I whimpered involuntarily from the grinding on my cock. Gramps apparently took my whimper as a "Yes".
“See. Gramps knows. I know what you need.” he said as he rubbed his hairy muscle
pecs against my beefy pecs and spiking nipples as he ground his boner into mine.
I breathlessly moaned. I couldn’t take much more of Gramps’ hot as fuck muscle foreplay and seductive taunting. Gramps had made me so hot, so horny with all his erotic talk that I was about to explode.
"I think you are ready now to know what having a real muscleman rape your muscle ass is like ...” And with that Gramp's finally released his bearhug. One on One, Man to Man, Bodybuilder to Bodybuilder, he had taken me. And even worse, I had no excuses for my loss, he had won fairly. I was too weak to take advantage of the opening. All I could do was stand there with my chest and abs heaving to get air back in my lungs and fight not to pass out.
Gramps was standing directly in front of me, hands on his hips, making sure he was taking up my whole field of vision. Then with a slight smile and a wink at his grandson, he slipped his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his jock strap and in one smooth move, stripped off his jock, letting it slide to the floor. He kicked it with one foot towards his grandson.
I stared slack jawed. What I saw next made my mouth water. Gramps right hand was stroking a huge, thick veiny muscle cock topped with a big shiny red swollen head. He released it. It violently reared up on its own throbbing, twitching wildly. The old man's cock was as hard as teenager's. Clear syrup leaked from the top completely covering it. The massive cock throbbed and bobbed up and down. Gramps was hung like a horse!
Then Gramps flexed his arms as he cooed, “Here I am, Muscleboy, Feel my body. Feel my muscles, feel my muscle cock... It’s all for you ... .”
Fuck I thought. Pumped from battle, his arms and chest, even his cock, were now as big as mine. The old fucker was even sporting a deeply ridged set of eight pac abs on par with mine. His stunning muscle packed physique looked fucking photoshopped.
It was a misnomer to keep calling Gramps an "old" Bodybuilder. He was pure and simple a "Bodybuilder" every bit and as much as I was. No qualifiers were needed. He had been right when he said this match was "Bodybuilder vs Bodybuilder"! And Gramps was determined to prove decisively that he was the stronger bodybuilder.
I couldn’t resist the temptation. I slowly ran my hands all over Gramp’s massive body, packed with gnarly mature muscle as hard as granite. My breathing grew more frantic, as I indulged myself feeling my fellow bodybuilder up and down, worshiping his muscle. The bodybuilder muscle Gramps had used to kick my ass and seduce me.
Gramps did a most muscular pose, tensing all his muscles to their maximum size. Dense muscle popped to massive proportions as Gramps flexed his incredible physique. He looked like a statue of Zeus, the king of the gods. I was beside himself with wanton lust. My male hormones wildly rampaged throughout my body. The old muscle god had done it, he had queered me to full homo.
“Get ready,Muscleboy. My massive
muscle meat is about to plow your ass. You will hear my bull balls slapping against your muscle butt as I rape you senseless!!!”
Gramps stepped forward and once again wrapped his mighty arms around me as he reapplied his bearhug. I tried to resist but in my weakened state my efforts were futile. Gramps had dominated me physically and mentally. It was like he had made me enjoy my own muscle destruction, and turned me queer while doing it. Like some kind of Jedi mind trick. I was desperately trying to clear the mind fuck out of my brain.
He applied his bearhug with less power than before. A few minutes before it had been like being trapped in a car-crusher. This time he was using just enough strength to keep me under control. His battering ram of a cock pressed into the underside my own fuckpole. He passionately embraced me in his bearhug as he crushed my own horse cock with his equally strong man tool. He whispered, “I’m going to butt-fuck the living daylights out of you. I’m going to fuck the arrogance out of you, Muscleboy and put you in your place. You will be totally dominated. ” he growled as he smashed his mighty cock into mine, making me grunt in pain.
Gramps held his manmeat in my cock as he said. “You feel my cock? It's big and throbbing and powerful and hard as an iron pipe!" I winced from the pressure of Gramps'
cock on mine. “Just think about A big older muscle guy like me fucking your young muscle ass. My Big thighs around you ... My Big pecs ... My Big arms ...fucking you. All those bodybuilder muscles you were just worshiping will be fucking you. Fucking you with a gigantic, wet, slippery, dripping donkey dick that will blast a sea of steamy, hot cum deep into you ....you want to feel a real man's big cock bust a load all up in you, don’t you..."
“NO! NEVER! Fuck you!” I shouted.
“Oh no, Muscleboy, I get to fuck you ... and there is nothing you can do to stop me. My strength has allowed me to rape anyone I wanted... I have fucked dozens of big strong unwilling men...men bigger than you” Gramps tightened his grip.
“OOOOOOHHHHHH!” I groaned.
“And I’m looking forward to breeding you, Muscleboy. My huge cock is ready and waiting to get into the ass crack of your magnificent ass to seek out your hole. Can you feel that monster cock of mine pulsating with desire for your hole, Muscleboy? Or should I call you my Musclebitch now..” he said as he thrust his hips, slamming his cock up against mine.
“Don't call me "muscle-boy or your Muscle-bitch!". I’m the only real man here ... a real human being, not some testosterone filled steroid using Viagra addicted freak of nature ...you.. you're a mutant or Dr Frankenstein's bastard kid or something,” I groaned.
Rage flooded through Gramps’ body. “Oh yeah, Muscleboy? A real man? Well, I can make you scream like a GIRL” He squeezed even harder. “You’re just a muscled up gym meathead with a big dick...And I’m going to enjoy taking you down a notch. You ready to spread those muscle ass cheeks for me, Muscleboy? !!!” Gramps confidently growled while his his grandson cheered!
I furiously beat the old muscleman's twisted rebar lats that were like rippling waves in choppy seas. After a series of brutal blows, Muscle Gramps’s grip came apart as he was driven to his knees, his years finally taking their toll as his energy waned. I instantly clobbered his chin with my knee, which jolted Muscle Gramps backwards to the floor. Now the old man was seeing stars!
But I was in no shape to follow up on my momentary advantage. Señor Senior had given me too great a shellacking. Clutching the small of my damaged back with one hand, I staggered backward, collapsing against a wall as I fought for air. The great plates of my chest heaved in heavy, undulating waves as my face registered the intense agony I suffered with every breath I took. The grandson could see the ugly black bruises that pockmarked my entire rib cage. I vigorously shook my head, trying to regain my senses as I struggled through the pain.
For a few seconds, Muscle Gramps lay on the floor massaging his chin before he slowly clambered to his feet. He, too, shook out his head to wipe away the cobwebs. Seeing my distress, as I slumped in the corner heavily sucking in air and leaning against the wall, Gramps' expression took on a predatory look. The mighty septuagenarian immediately took full advantage of the opportunity. Pepperidge Farm who had been slowing down, managed to tap some reservoir of energy and with surprising speed and athleticism rushed toward me and jumped up onto my mountainous thighs as he put his hands on the back of my thick neck and flipped me over onto the floor. SLAM!
For a third time the breath was knocked out of your Mule’s body. Stunned by the suddenness of the move and its affects, I groggily tried to find my feet, only to be met by my aged adversary, who scooped me up and brutally body-slammed me back down to the floor with great authority. The force was so powerful that the I was again knocked senseless. The septuagenarian grabbed me by my hair, forcing me up to my buckling legs. As this Mule wobbled in place, Muscle Gramps re-applied his devastating frontal bearhug.
The Kid let out a cheer as his Gramps locked me in the bear hug hold. My eyes flew wide open in shock. I was again being crushed in the powerful arms of my beefy opponent, our two bodies pressed together, an erotically stimulating site for the gawking, drooling grandson. I threw my head back and groaned loudly as the crush began. I had been softened up by Gramp's repeated holds and it was immediately clear from my reaction that I was worn down and much weaker than when the match began. His earlier muscle destroying efforts were now being rewarded as a grunting Gramps was forcing painful groan after groan from me. Hopelessly caught in this primitive, beautiful, rib-grinding bearhug, my huge cock was pressed straight up against Muscle Gramp’s tight abs, squashed between our two bodybuilder physiques. The intensity of this erotic, sexually hot bearhug drove the spectator grandson into orgasmic overdrive. He exploded like a volcano. Spewing his punk sperm all over himself.
My face was showing my pain. Muscle Gramps’ features were etched with determination to crush me, his mighty opponent. Gramps was envious of my beautiful, heavily muscled body, he lusted after the vigor and beauty of my youth, which he felt was wasted on a Nancy Pants of insufficient spirit and toughness. The half a century older grappler wanted to destroy my Herculean magnificence, and ruin my Adonis good looks. Gramps felt he had gained a modicum of revenge on my youth and beauty, by showcasing his greater strength. He was proving to me and his own grandson, that he REMAINED the mightiest man in the room.
He longed to give me more than a taste of his power, he was already imagining me suckling on his donger like a pacifier, and spreading my muscular ass cheeks before his triumphant ramrod. He would prove that not only he could he break this mighty Mule from a stallion into a mare, but he would have sport with me like many of the hapless victims who he had humbled before. Once conquered, he could then play victory games with the conquered youth.
Muscle Gramps, still in his lusty reverie, readjusted his arms, again wrapping them around the small of his much younger rival’s back as he ratcheted up the power of his great squeeze. Not that he even considered me a rival, at this point in the bout. I felt the deadly power of my opponent. My face was contorted in horrific agony as I bellowed out in excruciating pain. With all his might, Muscle Gramps attempted to crack my ribs. “Give up !” he roared again as his face winched from his great effort.
Your Mule knew I was in dire jeopardy, as this young blond giant felt my ribs bending, on verge of breaking. I screamed for all I was worth as my arms and legs flailed wildly about. "UNNNNHHHGGGG...No, Fuck No, OH Fuck... your breaking my back ...UNNNNHHHH....!!!" I groaned helplessly. My handsome visage, already distorted by the pain, easily gave the grandson an idea of the immense physical pressure my great body was under, but now my helpless groans verified it. The Mighty Muscle Gramps continuously poured on more pressure on this younger man, and I felt the fight in me dissipating. My back and ribs, bruised already, were being systematically softened up for the kill. My breathing was being constricted keeping air from entering into my mountainous chest. Helpless I was feeling my stamina being drained from my once proud self, as my head rolled about my thick bull neck like I had become a Mule bobble-head. Yes, once again it had been Bodybuilder vs Bodybuilder, but this time I had come up short.
"You got him Gramps, finish him now and fuck his ass....Give up Mule, give up and take your fucking...." the Kid was yelling.
I have succumbed and submitted to far less punishment than that inflicted on me already by the Old-timer. I have to admit that were it not for the the age of my opponent I would already be seeing hearts rather than red rage...but my pride would not allow me to surrender to and be fucked by such an elderly foe.
Once more, sliding his head under his opponent’s arm pit, Muscle Gramps calmly tightened his grip, crushing my back and ribs even more. Not even Grappler Dan had put such a hurt on me. How was this even possible...was Gramps some sort of CYBORG?
“Give up!” snorted the powerful septuagenarian. The squeezing force of Muscle Gramps was unbelievably powerful-- his extraordinarily strong arms were steadily, inexorably driving me toward submission and ignominious defeat. “You're no match for me, son” gloated the mighty septuagenarian muscleman. “I am crushing you! Admit your inferiority and save yourself even more pain and broken bones!”
Muscle Gramps had, by now, taken complete control of your Mule, showing me how it felt to be bearhugged without mercy by a superior man. Much as the Venerable Grappler's taunts fueled my continued resistance, the reality of the excruciating pain forced me to concede in my thoughts that his braggadocio was not without considerable merit. With each mighty squeeze my massive body jerked, tugged and pulled vainly trying to find an avenue of escape. Whenever I’d put my hands under Muscle Gramp’s jaw and attempt to push the septuagenarian’s head and body away, the old-timer simply powered-up his hug and squeezed ever harder and I would drop my arms. The bone crushing pressure on my back and ribcage was driving me inexorably toward submission.
"How long can Mule endure the excruciating power of my grandpa's mighty squeeze before his ribs and spine give way to crippling ruin? No one has EVER held out against Gramps THIS long" whispered the grandson, with grudging respect for Mule's endurance. He also feared lawsuits...Perhaps he should stop this match and just fuck him.... there was no way the Mule would be able to stop Gramps from raping him at this point even if he wouldn't submit. Gramps had had his victory, there was no reason to permanently injure the young strongman.
I no longer had the strength to fight for escape. My torso was leaning backwards as was my head; my mouth was wide open; my breathing was laborious and disconcerting to hear; my arms hung lifeless at my sides, and my legs barely supported me. I appeared to the grandson as if I were virtually out cold on my feet. “How much longer before Mule gives up? This is getting ridiculous, Gramps has already kicked the Mule's ass...Gramps should just rape him.” thought the grandson, with a broad, confident smile plastered across his face. "That-it, Gramps! Squeeze that fucking muscle bound bastard until his head explodes!” Although his overweening pride in Gramps was tempered by a little by a gnawing fear of litigation, for it would be HIS inheritance that would be sued away.
My only confirmation that I was still conscious was that I continued to groan in pain as I continued to feel the power of the older bodybuilder’s hug sapping the last vestiges of my strength from my once mighty body.
Standing straight up in front of his opponent once again, Muscle Gramps sneered in my slack-jawed face, hissing spit from the corners of his mouth. “Now who is the strongest? Huh? Who?”
"Fuck, you are... you're stronger...stronger than me..." was the thought that was in my head. But I said nothing. There was no reply from me as I still desperately fought for consciousness. My pride would not let me admit that this ancient relic was stronger than I was. With my breathing severely labored, my eyes closed, your Mule totally collapsed backwards in the arms of my mighty tormentor, which gave my overpowering opponent even better leverage in his deadly hug. Only Muscle Gramp's vise grip kept this Mule from falling to the floor. I collapsed in my mighty tormentor’s arms. Holding his now weakened rival with only one arm, a gloating Muscle Gramps grinned with intense pride at his destruction of the younger bodybuilder hunk, Mule. He ran the index finger of his free hand over my chest already contemplating collecting the fruits of his victory. As he forced me to bend farther backwards Muscle Gramps bellowed triumphantly “You're done, son. You're fucking done... I have defeated you...and I will fuck you whether you give up or not!” He fingered my lips with his free hand, parting them with probing digits, eventually finger fucking my mouth as I was helpless to resist such indignities.
The grandson boisterously cheered and clapped his encouragement with a chant of, “YOU WON! YOU WON! HE'S FUCKING DONE...! NOW RAPE HIM, RAPE HIS ASS....” Watching his grandpa destroy the arrogant muscle stud had been hot as fuck, but he secretly was glad that it was over. He wanted to see the big Mule fucked. And doing it by force and against my will was even hotter, Gramps would rape the unwilling and resisting Mule. The Kid had seen this many times before. It was the old man's final hold on his opponents. Over the years his Gramps had raped anyone he wanted to. He was just too powerful for anyone, including the Mule, to stop.
Still holding this Mule with only one arm about my waist, Muscle Gramps moved his saliva covered fingers down to squeeze
my huge cock trying to force this young Muscleman to shoot off my pent up ocean of cum that had been simmering in my balls since the beginning of the match. The crushing pain to my cock seemed to revive me. My eyes popped wide open as I righted himself in Muscle Gramp’s arms, to be met with the hard, cold stare of my adversary.
“SUBMIT!” demanded Muscle Gramps once again.
Your Mule hallucinating from the pain saw my late Ganny in a vision, "You let this tired old man take your ass and you will shame every ancestor of yours from the dawn of time!" This spurred me into one final effort, it was a last Hail Mary play, in double overtime, where he would either be the hero or the goat.
With what strength I had left, I raised my hands high above my head, interlaced my fingers together into one giant ten-digit fist, and brought it down with titanic force on the top of Muscle Gramps’s head. The blow momentarily stunned the older muscleman, but not enough to allow this young Muscleman to escape. It did, however, allow the release of my abused cock, that once more became buried between our two burly, heavily muscled bodies.
Quickly, another big squeeze from the relentless elder strongman seemed to prevent all hope of ever breaking the hold. A helpless Mule dropped my arms as if they were made of lead. I groaned out in agony. Once more this Mule was steadily being driven toward surrender. I once more lifted my hands upward as if I was finally surrendering. I threw my head back as if I was in sheer agony.
The only retaliation left open to Mule was a savage head butt to Muscle Gramps forehead. The blow was go powerful that it staggered the ancient muscled titan and sent his dentures flying into his grandson's cum stained lap. Your Mule hurriedly followed it up with a series of stiff punches and elbows to his opponent’s toothless head that rocked him on his heels. Another vicious head butt finally broke the hold, enabling this Mule to escape the deadly embrace of my powerful opponent.
I staggered backwards, struggling to catch my breath as I wrapped my massive arms around my battered ribs for protection. Slowly, I made my way to a corner where I leaned my immensely broad back against the wall, still hugging my bruised ribs and gasping for air. There I stood, motionless-- my head hung down as if in a self induced trance trying to recoup my lost energy and strength.
Muscle Gramps , having back-peddled to the opposite wall, quickly recovered. He stormed back toward me and hit a startled Mule, awakening me from my stupor with such a powerful backhanded slap that it nearly took my handsome head off my yard wide shoulders. The blow straightened your Mule right up so Muscle Gramps could reapply his brutal bearhug. Immediately your Mule reached skyward with both hands. I flexed my mammoth arms to gather up my strength calling on the spirits of all my ancestors. Then I rammed my arms down in between the elderly muscle god’s arms and started to power out of the savage, crushing hold.
Feeling his mighty arms begin to be pried apart and your Mule start to slide out of his sweaty bearhug, Muscle Gramps lifted his musclebound prey off my feet and raced toward the opposite wall where he plowed your Mule’s broad back into it. I felt my bell rung like I was a high striker hit by a sledgehammer.
This young Muscleman grunted like an ape from the powerful impact arching my back as I did. Then Muscle Gramps drove a series of shoulder blocks into my stomach.
I heard the fat lady warming up with scales and felt goat horns growing from the top of my throbbing head. Using all his weight, the septuagenarian followed up his Mule-slam with a series of classic American football style shoulder slams.
They hit like battering ram demolition into my abs, then he added a series of tremendous gut-wrenching punches to my mid section for good measure. Then like some sort of triumphant Anaconda he recaptured his battered opponent in a new deadly squeeze.
Muscle Gramps put a leg scissors on a near stupefied Mule as he totally dominated me. He wasted no time in applying a powerful squeeze on the already damaged ribs of his adversary. I heard the sobs and sighs of 100 generations of my ancestors.
Muscle Gramps locked his massive legs around the waist of your hurting Mule. This young Muscleman repeatedly groaned in agony as Muscle Gramps powerful legs squeezed my already battered body. Muscle Gramps released his hold, stood back for a moment to admire his brutal work as I slumped helplessly on the floor. I seriously considered striking my colors and running up the white flag. I had endured as much pain as I ever had known...and I was a football player largely inured to pain... but this was pain of a magnitude of a whole new order, the old dude had gone full out Medieval on my ass.
The seventy eight year old champion slapped on a tight headlock. Time and time again during this match he had not only out fought and over-powered and dramatically dominated this young muscle stud, but had patently out muscled this self proclaimed strongest man at his grandson's gym. "Ha, Must be one of those rainbow gyms for Nancies," thought Gramps unimpressed. I meanwhile heard my military ancestors playing taps.
Then the old man quickly converted his headlock into a deadly rear naked choke hold.
Muscle Gramps didn't release the choke hold until I was nearly unconscious. The old man could have choked me out to take the win, but he wanted a verbal submission. He wanted his grandson to hear me beg for mercy and then submit like every contender before me. All had gone into the ring cocky as fuck, and left skulking away in shame and disgrace doing the ass-slammed shuffle.
The veteran Muscle Gramps and his grandson exchanged army style salutes in a "mission accomplished" gesture. The Mule had been defeated. Now there was just the satisfaction of hearing him admit it and the taking of the Mule's ass.
"OK..." .the kid said as he squatted down next to the wrecked Mule..." you're defeated...now let's hear you say it. Let's hear you give up and admit my grandpa kicked your fucking ass....so you can get fucked"
When your Mule shook my head NO the old man just smiled. He put his thumbs into the waistband of his jock strap and dropped it to the floor. A steel hard one eyed purple headed monster that thanks to a triple dose of Viagra was every bit as hard and large as mine sprung out, slapping against his abs as it was freed. I was about to get fucked, if I didn't submit, I would be raped. Gramps pulled this battered muscleman off the floor. He once again applied his incredible bearhug for some further convincing.
Pressing their bodies together, Muscle Gramps -- grunting -- slowly, ever-so-slowly, built up the pressure, deliberately prolonging his savage torture as he compressed our two bodybuilder physiques.
My eyes rolled about my head as excruciating pain furrowed deep into my face. I moaned and cried out in the twin sensations of pain and pleasure as the stronger man systematically ratcheted up the intolerable pressure of his deadly bearhug. My once magnificent body began to go limp in Muscle Gramps powerful embrace. “ We went bodybuilder to bodybuilder. My muscles against yours. And now, I want feel your gigantic muscles surrender to my superior muscles, son” grunted the mighty septuagenarian. "I have to admit you are a purty one, it will be more than your muscles that soon will be surrendering! Your ass is mine..." --he added, pervily licking his lips.
I desperately struggled, but couldn’t find an opening to release myself from the excruciating bearhug and avoid the impending humiliating submission and fucking.
The grandson could only think about the hot image of a defeated Mule being raped by his muscled Grandfather, while like some medieval sculpted Pietà , I was locked in a pose of suffering as I begin to pass out from his impossibly tight, deadly hug.
But I was refusing to black out or surrender! A wounded beast is always the most dangerous! I was now a man in a desperate situation-- and hearing the thundering drums of my tribal ancestors, I was a man who simply could not quit and give this geezer satisfaction.
In a desperate move, I locked both my hands on the back of Muscle Gramps head. I then dropped to my knees, dragging my opponent down with me. Muscle Gramps ’s chin hit violently hard on my brick hard skull. On impact a stunned Muscle Gramps released his hold as he fell over onto the mat holding his toothless jaw with both hands.
He continually rolled around on the mat clutching his chin with both hands, spitting out blood in the process as he bellowed out in pain. I, also, was lying on the floor desperately gasping for breath, my bruised ribs plainly visible. This musclebound gladiator needed a breather from the titanic battle.
But instead, Muscle Gramps capitalized on his advantage, lifting both knees up and sinking them deep into my exposed abs as he landed on top of me. Muscle Gramps scrambled to his feet. He savagely kicked me in the gut and groin, even stomping down with full force on my cock as I laid spread eagle flat on my back. The grandson let out a cheer.
As Muscle Gramps continued kicking and stomping his downed rival, your Mule, doubled over to protect myself as best I could, waited for an opportunity. It came quickly. As Muscle Gramps stopped for a second to change feet to resume his attack, this Mule rolled over, grabbed my rival’s leg and flipped him to the mat. This gave me time to get to my feet however wobbly my legs were. Patiently I waited until Muscle Gramps was standing. Suddenly I charged. While Muscle Gramps went high, I went low to avoid the septuagenarian's mighty arms. I went under them, placing Muscle Gramps in my own powerful bearhug.
"Now it will be over", I thought. I knew that my strength in this devastating hold would be too much for this creaky old has-been. Muscle Gramps cried out in agony as his geriatric muscle body was smashed up against the solid iron frame of your Mule. He felt his spine being crushed. He swung his arms wildly to free himself but he was held too fast and too tight. He knew his back was weakening. Even he could not withstand this pressure forever. To add insult to injury, this Mule was able to ram the head of my massive cock into the underside of Muscle Gramps nut sack. As I steadily applied more and more pressure to my brutalizing hold, Muscle Gramps fought back with his ebbing strength as best he could. Muscle Gramps agonizing torment was clearly etched on his wrinkled face for his grandson to see. It was like he was aging before our eyes! I grinned into the pain-ravaged face of the old man. I heard 100 generations of my ancestors break out in applause. Now sure, I might have been experiencing a pain-fueled auditory hallucination, I will leave it to my readers to decide.
My arms fully flexed around the musclebound septuagenarian’s waist as I forced Muscle Gramps 's mighty chest deeper into my nipples, which, to the old strongman, felt like two massive iron spikes drilling into him. To add further distress, this Mule flexed my pecs, scrapping my large nipples across those of my opponent’s sending electrical charges of erotic stimulation that the old man hadn't felt in years throughout his withering body. The captive powerhouse’s brain was being fried with unaccustomed lust stimulated first by near victory and now in impending defeat. The old man who had not lost a match in nearly 60 years, felt an overwhelming urge to succumb to this beefy protagonist for whom he now unmistakably pined.
This young Muscleman shook Muscle Gramps like a rag doll from side to side. The excruciating pressure on his back increased as Muscle Gramps continued to moan and groan. Your Mule put all of my might into the hold. My muscles swelled to new dimensions. My massive lats widened so broad, like twin barn doors, that they nearly bloated out Muscle Gramps from view. The septuagenarian slowly maneuvered his hands down into this Mule's bearhug, forcing his arms inside my pulverizing vise grip that was quickly grinding the will to fight out of him.
Now another test of strength was on. Muscle Gramps pushed outward with his arms as your Mule flexed my massive guns and tried with all my might to crush the life out of my rival. Then, using a hidden reservoir of incredible strength, in one swift more, the mighty septuagenarian powered out of the deadly bearhug.
I was shocked beyond belief but immediately reapplied the hold as my opponent staggered backwards. Muscle Gramps felt the unbearable punishment once more. This time, your Mule followed up with a head butt as I again constantly rammed my fuckpole into the big beast's manhood. My forehead hit the bridge of the septuagenarian's nose opening a wound that began to bleed. Muscle Gramps' head snapped back from the impact. He was dazed for a moment.
Still Past Perfect recalled he had broken this all-powerful pulverizing bearhug once before, proving he could power out of your Mule's strongest hold. He again called on hitherto unknown reservoirs of strength. He reached forward placing his powerful hands on my massive bolder size deltoids. He applied as much pressure as he was able to the muster. Your Mule could not believe it. After only seconds in my bearhug, Muscle Gramps should have been begging for mercy. Instead, he had been humped and smashed for several minutes and powered out. Now he was fighting out of it again. I felt my own shoulders giving way under the relentless pressure of the mighty septuagenarian's powerful hands. My bearhug fell away as I lost feeling in both my arms from Muscle Gramps' supernatural strength. The Mule's mighty arms fell helpless to my side. I would have dropped to the mat but Muscle Gramps' steel claw hold on my shoulders held me upright. I looked into the Muscle Gramps' face. Muscle Gramps was grinning from ear to ear at my noticeable suffering and his own obvious superior strength. I heard the boos and raspberries of my ancestors in their obvious displeasure at my lackluster performance.
In desperation your Mule kneed Muscle Gramps in the abs. The septuagenarian released his claws as he stumbled backwards finally falling on his ass in a sitting position.
This Mule stood behind the muscled man and put my knee in Muscle Gramps back as I jerked his head back. Muscle Gramps' body was forced to arch back opening his chest vulnerably wide. Your Mule raised my forearm and smashed it down across Muscle Gramps' pectoral mass. Again and again this Mule smashed Muscle Gramps' body. Finally I let go of my grip on Muscle Gramps' head. The elder muscled form slumped to the floor groaning in pain lying prone on his back.
I pulled Muscle Gramps back up to a sitting position from behind. I then slipped my left arm across Muscle Gramp's throat, while pressing my right arm against the back of the septuagenarian's head for support. Muscle Gramps felt my arm sinking into his throat.
The grandson was stunned by the turn of events. His grandfather was holding on to the Mule's massive arm to prevent him from locking in the sleeper completely, while this mighty Mule flexed my muscles to try overpower him. Muscle Gramps found his breathing constrained by the hold. The grandson suddenly felt a rising panic for the first time during the match, worried that his grandfather could be knocked out by the Mule.
"Not so strong now... are you, old man?" Mule whispered into Muscle Gramps ear. Muscle Gramps was unable to pry Mule's arms away, but he managed to block the hold enough to prevent me from crushing his windpipe. He was buying time as he struggled to think of his counter move. I wrapped one massively muscled arm around Muscle Gramp's neck while the other secured his head. Muscle Gramps was being smothered in a cocoon of solid muscle as my massive muscles began to flex and grow. My rock-solid gargantuan muscles crushed relentlessly against Muscle Gramps neck and head. Gramps seemed to shrink in size.
Muscle Gramps entire world began to slow just before everything faded to darkness. Muscle Gramps was out cold. I heard the cheers of his grandson, once Gramps' number one booster, now cheering for ME. It was like a Giants fan suddenly cheering for the Patriots.
I sauntered triumphantly past the Grandson who was in abject awe of me and utterly smitten. He had never known his Grandpa to lose, and so I had become his new hero and man-crush. I pulled on my jeans and sneaks, picked up my tee shirt, and headed out for my jeep. I got out on the front walk and with an evil smirk, I pulled my pants down a bit, and strutted across the lawn. It was a final taunt to the OLD MAN. Yet, I am not too proud. The old fart dominated the battle for very nearly the entire match, and he was born like in Pleistocene, but those Cro-magnon's are tough, let me tell ya! So I am STILL declaring this a clear VICTORY!
As the fight adrenaline rapidly left my body, I began to feel the effects of the beating I had taken. I got into my jeep cringing from the pain, then suddenly felt light headed and lost consciousness, slumped over the steering wheel.
I woke up an hour later in a bed, back in the house, my wounds being carefully and lovingly ministered to by the kid. "Just rest, Mule"...the kid said...."you had a great victory, I have never known anyone to stand up to Gramps much less best him... but you took one hell of an ass kicking doing so.... He massaged my giant bruised muscles gently with balm, his eyes in hypnotized fascination of every curve and crevice in the body of his new hero. Gramps sure beat the crap out of your big, tough body....but I am here to take care of you champ. What a fight, It was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You were incredible Mule...but taking on Gramps clearly put you in a world of hurt...but that is where I come in...you need some proper nursing, don't worry, I took a first aid class, so I will take care of you....Gramps is fine, by the way, he's eating ice cream and watching Wheel of Fortune..." --he cooed laying gentle 'healing' kisses on my massive pec shelf, and then down my cobblestone ab road as he slobbered toward his ultimate nirvana. "Kid is a damn jock-sniffer after all", I thought, then once again all faded to black.
I had to work from home for the next week and a half, and was in considerable pain for a month. Still when I finally got back to the gym, grandson was put to work washing my gym clothes and towels, I call him TOWEL BOY. Yeah I still don't remember his actual name.
If you liked this story may we recommend: Daddy Issues: Parts One, Two and Epilogue; and Dishonored; two tales where Mule also gets embroiled in tricky family situations stemming from gym encounters.
“This way,” the Kid said, walking down a hall with your Mule following. As he rounded the corner, I saw a doorway heading into the basement. The Kid was already reaching the basement floor and turning the corner when I started down the stairs.
A corridor at the bottom of the stairs framed a partially opened door halfway down a hallway, a light coming from inside. I entered the room and quickly assessed my surroundings.
It was a huge space. The ceiling was high, and there was a lot of open floor space, most of it covered with gym mats, but the room was empty of furniture.
“Quite a little romper room you’ve got down here,” I said, stretching my shoulders as I stepped onto the mats. “I get the impression that you do this sort of thing a lot,” I said with a wink. I slipped my feet out of my sneaks and kicked them into the corner behind the door. "So where's your Grand Daddy?" I asked.
"Right here!" said a strong, deep sonorous voice behind your Mule.
When I did a 180, what I saw was nothing less than startling. An old man wearing only a jock strap, looking like a jacked up version of Floyd the Barber on Andy of Mayberry! Well maybe if Floyd had been popping steroids back in the day!
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| GRAMPS |
I could tell the old boy had had some muscle in his day but, in comparison with Mule's bulging body, it was like someone let the air out of him. From his frame he must have been a beast in his prime which I figured must have been back during the Nixon Administration. Still I don't know what the fuck the kid was thinking when he described Dodger Codger as being NEAR MY SIZE. Maybe he had been once, but not now, not even CLOSE.
Still it was not the image I had in mind. I was thinking more Walter Matthau in Grumpy Old Men then Clint Eastwood in Gran Turino. I was at a loss for words for what may have been the only time in my life, I stammered a "umm, I'm Mule, pleased to meet you, sir..." my good upbringing about being respectful to old people suddenly taking over. [Shout outs to Mom and my late Ganny, they done their best to try and civilize me!] I had stuck out my hand planning to give him an intimidating Mule handshake, but just as he was extending out his hand, he whipped it back and up in a 'too slow' maneuver and rubbed his scalp while he gave me a disdainful sneer. I noticed he didn't even bother to introduce himself, muthafucker!
"Well sonny boy, I am the man that's going to kick your ass till you cry like a girl, so you can just keep calling me sir..." came the reply.
"OK, you old motherfucker, if that's the way you want it...let's do this" I snarled back with a shrug of my mile wide shoulders. I had tried to be nice, now he was gonna see the beast that Mom and Ganny couldn't tame! "Time to feel the kick of a Mule" I thought. "Come to think of it, this guy prolly had been kicked by mules before, he was such an old-timer he probably prospected with mules before he hit the mother lode and bought this place." I stripped off my shirt and jeans, throwing them into a corner. Now clad in just my speedo, I couldn't help but think it must have looked to the grandson like Hercules getting ready to throw down with old King Eurystheus after them 12 labors. Gramps should have did what the Ol' King E. did and hid in a giant pithos jar.
I didn't want to break the old codger but, maybe this crusty old curmudgeon was due a little pain and suffering because of his Angry Old Man remarks. So regardless of how ridiculous the challenge was, I am a competitor to the core, and I put myself into "the zone" like I did before any bout, pretty soon I was tenting my briefs in anticipation..... [No I don't have no old man fetish you pervs, the thrill of combat makes me horny...you should KNOW that about your Mule by now!]
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| Looking like Hercules ready to throw down... |
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| My speedos could barely contain my Mule donger! |
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| Had to admit, Gramps was not too shabby for a man past his prime by the day I was born! |
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| Gaze on my youthful, muscular magnificence and then look over at Father Time there, NO CONTEST! |
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| You have to admit, you are tenting over Mule right now, aren't you readers? |
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| I wonder if Gramps is thinking he has bitten off more than he can gum? |
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| You think Gramps is going into arrhythmia just looking a my mountainous muscles? |
Muscle Gramps raised his hands and spread his fingers. I nodded knowingly. A true test of strength right off the bat. I smiled. Your Mule knew he outclassed the Old fart in height, brawn and arm length. I thus held the leverage advantage and, when I brought this old strongman down to his knees, it would cause Muscle Gramps such a great loss of confidence ... may be it would also bring him to his senses and the need for any injury could be avoided. "The match might even end right then", I thought.
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| "The match might even end right then", I thought. |
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| How do I make it look good so not to totally embarrass the old coot, he was probably something once. |
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| Prepare to get your ass whooped, boy! |
The heavily muscled men locked fingers and immediately started trying to force the other down. We moved closer, banging our massive, heaving chests together. The septuagenarian was still packing extensive muscle on a barrel chest, although nothing in the same league as me. "Good on you, old-timer" I thought, "Good on you!" Still I am a musclegod, and he a mere mortal, and an aged one at that. If I put my full Mule-power into this match, his Methuselah bones were going to go all snap, crackle and pop!
But as we went mano e mano, I found the old gaffer matching me sinew for sinnew. DAYUM if this old coot didn't have the proverbial "old man strength" -- the crazy insane strength you gain when you become an old man. The uncanny ability of older men, especially Tradies, to lift copious amounts of lumber, heavy furniture, and beat much younger men in arm wrestling. It is usually lost around the ages of 65-70 depending on your health but this old geezer still had it in spades. Grandson wasn't lying...this old dude was one spry mutherfucker.
The two grapplers grunted and strained as we stood chest to chest, nipples to nipples, hands locked tightly in place. We pushed with all our might as our red faces grimaced from our strenuous exertion as our bull necks strained with such intensity that the veins seemed to almost pop through our flesh. We were both already sweating bullets from the strenuous effort. Our arms were huge, puffed up to their maximum sizes, the old man's swelling to near Mule-size. Eventually with tremendous strain your Mule got my hands on top. Now the leverage was mine. I confidently exerted my strength to bear on the old man's muscles.
Still that wasn't enough, the wrestler-in-winter still resisted me. Every time I upped the game, he successfully countered. No matter how hard I pushed he would push back just as hard. I found myself wondering just how strong this old fucker was. I don't think this geezer realized RESISTANCE WAS FUTILE, and he was just going to get himself hurt!
Finally I went ALL IN. Every fiber in my body strained to force the mighty septuagenarian down to his knees. The striations of my arms damn near burst through my Mule-skin as I exerted all my superhuman strength. Slowly Muscle Gramps felt himself being forced to his knees. Desperately he tried to reverse the leverage, but could not. Like your Mule, with his teeth clenched, the senescent grappler strained with every ounce of strength he possessed, as the veins in his massive arms, chest and neck stood out. His muscles worked furiously to regain control. Muscle Gramps managed to stay up only for a moment more before collapsing with a powerful thud to one knee. C'mon readers, like this was ever in doubt? Just look at him, now LOOK AT ME!
"Yes Yoda", thought your Mule. "Feel the power of the YOUNG SIDE!" Instead of letting up I continued to push down with all my strength, hoping to bring the septuagenarian to both knees. "Remember, old man, you paid for this in cash, now you will pay in pain," grunted this young, cocky muscleman through gritted teeth. "You can call it quits, anytime."
Muscle Gramps was unfazed by this turn of events. "Never yield to anyone under thirty!" he grunted back. He knew I was strong, his eyes might be old, but they weren't blind! But he was in this for the long haul. His endurance and strength were unparalleled. He looked up at this magnificent blond titan, staring directly at your Mule's heaving massive chest. He was impressed at how mammoth it really was: packed with sinew rather than fat...here was not one of the young softies typical of this enfeebled generation. Even when they were trim like his grandson, they were enfeebled by a marshmallow spirit. This Mule had one heck of a kick to him... still this was a member of the selfies on social media generation, and he was GOING DOWN!
Down on one knee, Gramps was eye level with this Mule's monstrous super cock only partially contained within my speedo, and now wildly pulsating just below his doddering old chin. The elderly Muscledad of an ancient bygone age, no doubt could only wonder how he was going to drain all my super strength from my massive OLYMPIAN body. I was sure he was FEEBLY FANTASIZING about leaving me thoroughly weak and helpless so he could destroy me. "Dream on old-timer...you've FALLEN AND YOU CAN'T GET UP." I sneered as I continued to use all my strength to hold him down.
This spurred Muscle Gramps to reach deep down inside himself. He would prove to this cocky young meathead and his grandson that he was the stronger muscleman. Muscle Gramps redoubled his efforts to conquer me. The mighty septuagenarian began to push back with renewed strength . The renewed force of Muscle Gramps surprised me. I teetered back on my heels. This momentary loss of balance cost me dearly. Immediately Muscle Gramps powered himself back up to his feet as he gained the leverage advantage. I strained. MY face flinched with pain, but I could not reverse the hold. Slowly I was getting closer and closer to being brought to MY knees.
The Mighty Methuselah was completely focused on the match. He wanted this fight to be conclusive, but unlike your Mule with the impatience of my generation, the Geezer wanted it to be a slow, deliberate contest of sheer strength. He wanted to gain respect from his grandson and his opponent. With each exertion he felt his more muscled-up opponent, your Bluto-esque Mule, fading under his Popeye-runt power. My massively muscular arms and legs struggled against the septuagenarian’s pressure. Ancient muscles began to pop and bulge out as my elderly adverary's physique began to swell up with muscle and then even more muscle. Using all my strength, this young Muscleman pushed against the much older man, eventually working my way back up to a standing position. Our chests again collided, nipples pushing deep into the nipples of our respective foe. Straining with all my might, I felt my mammoth thighs began to quiver. After minutes of this incredible show of raw power between these two supermen, my now shaking big legs gave way. Your Mule fell to both my knees with a crashing thud that shook the entire room. I had been forced down by this 78 year old powerhouse! The old muscle fart had out muscled and overpowered me! The grandson smiled. I had lost the test of strength! WTF! I was astonished. As I looked around in my astonishment, first at Gramps and then at the kid, I was doubly surprised to see that I was the only one in the room that was shocked by the outcome! And for the first time, I recognized that Muscle Gramps was a real credible challenge.
Sure your Mule had lost this titanic test of strength to someone who did the twist to Chubby Checker, and now was twisting my sinews into knots....
...but my confidence was still high. How much stamina could Mr. Yesteryear have in the long run when he was clearly counting down his remaining heartbeats and knock knock knocking on heaven's door?
I knew that I had lost the leverage advantage, but I have been in tougher spots against far younger opponents, and it was INEVITABLE that I would soon be once again in total control. No Geritol-slurping-grandpa was going to get the best of ME.
I was still being held on my knees. The front of Gramp's jock is distended. He's getting hard. That cock looks impressive as fuck. Taking full advantage of the situation, the senior grappler began to sway his hips, viciously grinding his powerful jock-clad sex tool into this Mule’s handsome face. "Fuck," I thought as I was cock slapped so hard I was nearly seeing stars. He's got an iron boner on him, and a huge one at that, dayum! I thought cocks had expiration dates or something. Still that gives me hope for my future...
Slap, slap,slap. Boy this hung old fucker is packing a huge, throbbing rock solid horse sized cock.... Gramps was packing a kielbasa, it wasn't no Vienna sausage cock slapping your champion. It felt as big and as hard as my Mule Dick!
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| How does it feel to get whupped by someone collecting Social Security, kid! |
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| I ain't licked yet, Senior Discount, I ain't licked yet! |
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| Nice show muscles Mule, enjoying them getting whupped by older, stronger muscles? |
Your young Muscleman hero, grimacing from the onslaught, jerked my head from side to side trying to avoid the humiliating cock slapping, but it was all in vain. Repeatedly Muscle Gramp's fully packed jock pouch ground away at my face to assert dominance/superiority as he held me down on my knees. Still holding tightly onto this Mule’s fingers Muscle Gramp's bulging muscles forced his musclebound opponent to stay down on my knees, to the delight of his grinning grandson. For several minutes he kept up the face grinding attack as he grunted continuously in erotic pleasure. Clearly visible on my face was sheer agonizing distress as your trapped Mule began to weave about on my knees, eventually falling backwards under the barbaric assault.
Finally, Muscled Yesteryear let go of this Mule's fingers, allowing me to get up. We two rivals from different eras stood facing each other, our eyes locked together, as pure hate radiated from your Mule's eyes. I kept coughing to clear my throat as I vigorously shook out my hand and arms. Muscle Gramps gloating over his momentary victory, flexed his mighty arms right in the Mule's face. As a result of the workout he had put them through in bettering me in the contest they were now swole to the size of mine. I can't lie, the sweaty old muscleman looked impressive as fuck. "Now who is the strongest?" he crowed triumphantly. "If I hadn't let you up, I was thinking you would activate YOUR Life-alert! Hello,This is Mule, I have fallen and I can't get up!' he snorted, turning my earlier joke back on me.
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| Muscle Gramps stood over me, looking down on his fallen opponent |
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| His ancient muscles, now pumped full of blood and testosterone from our struggle, bulged and flexed |
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| Gramp's big chest and eight pack abs were heaving. His arms and torso looked almost as beefy as mine! |
Muscle gramps stood in front of me, hands on hips. His big chest and eight pack abs were heaving. His ancient muscles, now pumped full of blood and testosterone from our struggle, bulged and flexed. His arms and torso looked almost as beefy as mine!
This Mule glared at this display of pure testosterone bravado. "That was a fluke, I lost my balance, " I explained. " If you think for a second that you overpowered these cannons of mine you're in for a great disappointing surprise," I said as I flexed my massive guns right back at the old bull.
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| The Old Man might be packing two powerful six shooters, but I was armed with a set of fucking FIELD ARTILLERY |
So two muscular beasts, standing face to face, flexed our bodies, showing off the muscle that we had brought into the battle. His muscles pumped from the strain of battle, the old man was looking considerably bigger and more formidable. His abs rippled and his pecs bounced. Fuck, make that a lot bigger! This wasn't some past his prime old muscleman. As hard as it is for me to wrap my head around it, I am squared off with a fellow super-powerful bodybuilder. OK, it's time to show this geriatric muscle freak who was boss!
As your confident young Mule crouched into a most muscular pose, Muscle Gramps hit me with a surprise attack by slamming his fist squarely into my exposed jutting jaw.
The powerful blow sent this Mule peddling backwards into the wall, knocking the wind out of me with a huge grunt of exhalation: "UUUUUUFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHH...!!!"
I saw only stars as the room whirled around my head. A look of complete dumbfounded shock covered my face. Sweet Baby Jezus, this old dude is packing one hell of a punch! I began to sink down to the floor on my muscle butt. Taking full advantage of the situation, Muscle Gramps strutted forward with his hands firmly placed on his hips. He stood right in front of this young Muscleman who was STILL woozy from the punch, my head lethargically hung down to my great chest as I sagged against the wall. Kicking my legs far apart, the seasoned grappler stepped between them, grabbed your Mule’s hair as he shoved my head backwards with my mouth opened wide like a carp gulping air. Once more he savagely rammed his jock enclosed cock and ball sack into this humiliated Mule's face. A huge right cross ain't the only huge thing this old dude is packing if you know what I mean.
My mighty arms flapped widely in punch-drunk desperation. My rubbery legs were splayed wide apart and flopped about as my body bounced and jerked against this brutal humiliation. “How do you like my big cock's taste and smell?” snarled Muscle Gramps as he kept up his assault on my olfactory and gustatory senses. "You going queer for it yet, PUNK?!"
"Fuck this!" I thought, as all I could smell and taste was talcum powder, testosterone, and old man's ball sweat. But as disgusted as my brain was, my cock has a mind of its' own, and began to thicken and grow at the disturbing smells and tastes.
I reach into my trunks to adjust my hardening cock, which leaves my abs wide open. I get another of Gramp's huge punches, this one a mighty body blow to my chiseled washboard. THUD! OOF! I lose my air.
Gramps steps over and around me, smoothly locking me into an ab stretch.
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| Gramps locks Mule into an Ab Stretch. He uses his fists and elbows punish my mid-section |
I groan as I'm bent sideways, my side obliques stretched out. He locks it in perfectly. Another real move. I'm feeling this. He suddenly adds in powerful forearms and fists, breaking down my abs. THUD! THUD! THUD! I grunt as I take the punishment, my body absorbing what it can, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling. THUD! THUD! THUD! I cry out for real this time.
Muscle Gramps releases the ab stretch, but immediately pulls me into a reverse bearhug. I gasp as he crushes my midsection. I try to pry his arms apart, but Gramps is too strong. He's crushing me. I feel him grind his cock against my ass. I let out a long moan at that move. He asks if I'm a slut. I mutter a threat, but he laughs it off.
Then Gramps lowers his bearhug and grabs my bulge. I let out a high-pitched whimper as he fondles my manhood with his right hand while grinding my ass. Gramps grabs my hair and pulls my head back. He forces me to turn so we're facing the mirror.
Gramps whispers in my ear, "Look at yourself, jobber."
I moan as Gramps controls my head, making me to look at myself in the mirror. I normally love doing it, but now it feels different. It's like he owns me. The combination of pain and being thoroughly dominated so quickly has me feeling surprisingly submissive in his arms.
Gramps releases the claw on my manhood and his grip on my hair. He circles in front and rubs my pecs.
Gramps nods, "Yeah, nice muscles." Suddenly, he punches me in the gut. THUD! OOF! I bend forward. He grabs my hair and pulls my face up. The champ grabs my cheeks in one hand. He repeats, “Nice muscles.” Then he yells at me, "START USING THEM, BITCH!"
I suddenly realize that I'm not living up to my end of the deal. Gramps didn't pay for a prettyboy muscle jobber. He's paying for a tough match with a tough young stud muscleman wrestler.
The battle begins again. We circle and lockup. I match his power this time as I push him to the side. I lift my knees into his abs. THUD! OOF! He bends forward, so I grab him in a front facelock. He grunts as I lift up, pressing my forearm into his windpipe.
Still locked in my headlock Gramps grunts again, and then says to me, "Better!"
 |
| I get Gramps in a front head lock and drag him around the room by his head |
As I use my headlock to drag him around the room by the head, Gramps suddenly grabs me around the waist. He runs me back into the wall. WHAM! I sag for a moment, leaving myself wide open for some vicious ab punches. POW! THUD! POW! I cry out as he hammers my six-pack. Fuck! THUD! POW! THUD! I’ve got abs as strong as concrete, but I’m still feeling these shots.
Gramps must have some boxing back in the Navy, because he’s working me over like a heavy bag. POW! THUD! POW! I try to block him, but he swats my arms away. THUD! POW! THUD! I try to push him back, but he’s got his legs bent for a low center of gravity. I slide lower on the wall. Muscle Gramps backs off for a moment and I fall onto my ass, gasping for air. PLOP!
Gramps grabs me by my feet and drags me across the carpet until my back stings from rug burn. Then he lifts my legs then pushes them apart sharply. WRENCH! ARGH! Pain shoots out from my stretched groin. I try to close my legs, but Gramps drops down and starts back in with fists to my abs. THUD! POW! THUD! My abs are screaming in pain from the relentless abuse.
I force myself to sit up, quickly crunching up and driving my fist deep into Gramp's rock hard stomach. WHOMP! He grunts loudly and I succeed in slowing him down and giving myself a chance to get to my feet!
When I stand, I do a squat to test my groin to make sure Gramp's hadn't groin sprained me. Yeah, I’m good. I reach in and adjust my bound junk. Gramp's smirks, “That ain’t gonna help you, little boy.”
“Nothing little about me, old man." I snarl as I fix my cock and balls.
I tell him, “I can’t wait to stand and do my victory flex over you. My foot on your chest. Out with the old, in with the new.”
Gramps looks up at me and snarls, “A lot talk for such a little boy. Not much else.”
I approached and started to haul the old grappler off the floor by a hair pull when Muscle Gramps struck once again. He slugged me in my low hanging lemon sized balls. I bellowed like a bull being castrated and doubled over heaving my guts to the point of almost vomiting. Slowly the septuagenarian lifted himself ever so slowly up to his feet still clutching his nut sack with one hand. With a determined look he focused all his attention on your poor hero still doubled over in torment and holding my balls. Your Mule had definitely come out the loser in the exchange of low blows. His wrinkled old man balls had proven tougher than my big jock nuts. Muscle Gramps reached down to capture one of my massive arms to bend it backwards into a half nelson. Using his leverage advantage he turned the half nelson into an arm bar. Your Mule, still suffering the agony of the ball attack, groaned out in pain, my face wincing. Holding the twisted arm of his opponent up high, Muscle Gramps made your Mule dance about like a marionette to the audible delight of his grandson. I was being made to look the clown!
A great smile of sadistic pride caressed the grandson's lips as his grandpa made the mighty Mule prance helplessly about the room. The grandson was tenting in his pants, long jealous of your Mule's prowess in the dojo, he found my humiliation at the hands of his Grandpa utterly arousing.
Muscle Gramps then lowered the arm bar. He viciously tugged on my arm, pulling me in close. This Nordic muscle god then powerfully clobbered Past Tense hard across his great chest with a standing clothesline that dropped the aging grappler to the floor flat on his back. Gramps lay there spread eagle, staring straight up into the overhead lights. The wind had been completely knocked out of him. I placed one foot on my musclebound opponent’s mountainous chest as I flexed both my mighty arms in triumph.
 |
| and the winner is.... |
I had got cocky and Past Due grabbed hold of my ankle and flipped me on MY back knocking the wind out of me for the second time. My head hit so hard I was hearing ringing bells and seeing stars. Tables turned YET AGAIN.
Then Old News held the high ground again and straddled my waist. Slowly, majestically, Muscle Gramps lowered himself to sit down across your Mule’s mammoth thighs. Again he flexed his arms, next he performed a lat spread, then back again to a double biceps pose, kissing each arm as he smirked down at his opponent. The testosterone and blood pumped through the old warrior's thick veins and his venerable figure had grown more swole and more impressive through out our battle, due to the greater circulation going through his system. His pumped up biceps were now round and huge. His sagging pecs were now bulging with rock hard muscle. Muscle Gramps glanced at his grandson who was jerking off to his Gramp's sweaty, glistening muscle packed body. Gramps turned, giving him a cocky smirk and a bounce of a pec. The grandson was definitely turned on. I watched in amazement at the arrogant display of newly pumped and inflated muscle that Gramps was putting on. I could see that the old dude was packing serious muscle ... a hell of a lot of muscle actually. Gramps was matching me muscle for muscle!
 |
| Muscle Gramps pinned Mule to the floor |
Before I could fully regain my senses. Muscle Gramps raised himself up onto his haunches, leaned forward placing his hands on my shoulders, pinning me to the mat. He also folded his lower legs across my massive thighs to hold my legs in place. I desperately squirmed beneath Muscle Gramp’s heavily muscled body trying to extricate myself before I slumped like a sack of potatoes, seemingly totally conquered. As I looked up into the face of my senior citizen tormentor; I saw nothing but determination and confidence in the old man's eyes as I struggled to free myself. Seeing the shocked surprize in my eyes, he began to speak. “Yes, now you know. You can feel it for yourself. I'm stronger! I'm better, I AM the man, and you are nothing, NOTHING, but my battered bottom bitch” taunted Muscle Gramps right in my face.
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| Gramps was proving to me and to his Grandson that he was the stronger bodybuilder |
He had no doubt that he was in complete control of the match, that he was showing his grandson that he was the strongest man in the room. The superior alpha male, totally dominating a man five decades his junior. The grandson was wildly jacking, totally losing all sense of decorum in his excitement. Gramps could plainly see in my eyes such a cowed look, that he knew I was already thinking of him as the dominant XY in this epic contest of male supremacy.
 |
| Muscle Gramps takes control |
The musclebound beast landed hard on the floor from the impact. Muscle Gramps hit with such force that his muscled body sprawled motionless on the floor. The stunned grandson stopped stroking his knob and sat in shocked silence shaking his head in total disbelief of the power that your Mule possessed in my mammoth legs. As this Mule struggled to my feet, I knew how hair-breath close I had been brought to not only losing the match, but being made the bitch of a man with so many decades on me. As fatigue washed over me, your Mule staggered to a nearby corner where I collapsed exhausted against the wall, the great plates of my mountainous chest heaving heavily for each breath of air. I hoped that THIS time like in the TV commercial, Gramps had fallen and couldn't get up. But no such luck.
Coming to his senses, Muscle Gramps slowly he got to his feet. He was noticeably slower from the fall. He too collapsed against a wall diagonally opposite from the Mule. With their heads bent low both muscle gladiators gasped for breath for the next few moments. But it was the young Muscleman who was the first to move away from his wall. Muscle Gramps looked up. He saw me moving toward him like a charging bull. Gathering up his sagging strength he bolted forward. As we were about to slam into one another, Muscle Gramps karate kicked me square in me abdomen, doubling me over. "Where the fuck did that come from?" I thought as I stayed bent over and holding my belly with both hands, stunned by the old man's agile kick.
Before I could straighten back up, the old muscleman caught me around the waist, throwing me up and over his shoulder in a backbreaker. For a couple of seconds Muscle Gramps held your Mule in place bouncing this young Muscleman up and down as he racked the small of my back with torturous pain. I howled out in agony. My mighty arms and legs flopped about disjointedly. It was an incredible show of strength. Then Muscle Gramps body slammed me down across his knee in a bone cracking backbreaker that elicited another howl of agony from me as he almost broke me in half. The old man was kicking my ass. He pressed down on my legs and chin, bending me in an excruciating bow. The septuagenarian felt totally recharged and in control once more. He stood up, cradling your Mule in his arms. With great ease he hauled me up high over his head in a gorilla press. Deliberately heaping some more humiliation on his much younger muscular adversary, Muscles-Past pressed your Mule up and down, turning me into a human barbell. On the third rep, the mighty Muscle Gramps, with authority, bodyslammed me to the hard floor. I lay there in near unconsciousness moaning in pain. "My Fucking back...." is all I could think. He had taken me to school earlier, now he was taking me to the cleaners.
 |
| Muscle Gramps takes charge |
 |
| Muscle Gramps dominates the Mule |
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| It's a one sided beat down, and Mule is holding the short stick |
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| The Mule gets punished bad! |
 |
| Muscle Gramps whoops Mule's ass! |
The old man stood over me, chest and abs heaving. He had just shown his SUPERIOR strength in a series of power moves where he had thrown my 260 lbs body around like a rag doll. As I struggled to stay conscious, I realized I had just been totally dominated and humiliated in a one-sided complete beat down . He had almost snapped my spine and broken me in half. This freakish old muscleman's strength was fucking incredible.
|
| This freakish old muscleman's strength was fucking incredible |
|
| He had just shown his strength in a series of power moves where he had thrown my 260 lbs body around like a rag doll |
|
| I had just been totally dominated and humiliated in a one-sided complete beat down |
I had just been karmically punished with a straight up ass beating, I must have been a sadistic orderly at a nursing home in a former life. I had just been handed an ass whooping so good that you could have sworn it was in HD with SURROUNDSOUND.
Muscle Gramps straddled the spread eagle body of his half century younger rival. To the renewed immense pleasure of his fapping grandson he began to triumphantly pose his huge bulging Popeye post- spinach muscles.
"You're not looking too good, Mule...in fact you are getting smoked....you ready to give up?" the Kid asked me with a huge grin on his face. "Fuck, NO! It's not over yet...." I groaned. "Yeah, it's not over.... but you're losing...losing big time....and Gramps is just getting started" the cocky kid replied.
"How confident do you feel now that you know what my Gramps can do? He just kicked your ass. You still think you have a chance of winning, Mule?" the Kid asked. "Do ya? Huh? Do ya?"
"Fuck you..." I growled.
"You scared to bet your ass on it? the Kid taunted.
"What the fuck....?" was my surprised response.
"You heard me, Mule. Put your ass on the line. When my Grandpa beats you he gets to fuck you in the ass....unless your scared..."
I realized I was trapped. There was no way my ego or my pride was going to let me be a pussy and say no. The thought of being fucked by this gross, wrinkled old man was revolting. The huge rock hard boner that had stretched out his jock the entire match was proof that this ancient muscleman still had the working equipment necessary to fuck me good and solid. The beating I had taken so far was proof that him winning, as hard as it was for me to admit it, was possible. Fuck, based on the ass kicking he had just given me in our last exchange, the odds makers would say it was probable. But, I had no choice. I swallowed hard and said the words.
"OK, I will put up my ass. I lose, your Grandpa gets to fuck me ... " I agreed, reluctantly.
"Fuck yeahhhhh....!!!" the Kid shouted excitedly.
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| The turbines powering the insurmountable muscles of Ol' muscle Gramps was making me feel like a 98 lb. weakling who just got a beach full of sand kicked in his face! |
With the bet being made and my ass now the prize, Muscle Gramps reached down to clutch one of my arms. He brutally hauled me up. This Mule, stilled dazed, tottered about. The septuagenarian took a wide stance. My fabulously muscular body was pulled against Muscle Gramp's equally muscled body in an elaborate dance where he led and I followed, dipped back like the chick partner, as the old muscle god wrapped his now massively pumped arms around my waist.
I found myself captured in the deadly bone crushing vise-like grip of the battle tested muscleman’s bearhug. Muscle Gramps instantly burrowed his head under my right arm as he applied more deadly pressure to his devastating hold. He was vainly proud of his superhuman strength that had been thoroughly humbling much larger men since the Eisenhower Presidency. I was just one of a long list of boastful studs turned into simpering duds. He’d often had shown off his power to his grandson, by defeating and fucking many much younger musclemen. But his grandson had never had the opportunity to see him defeat and fuck a man my size. Now he had the supreme opportunity to show off his phenomenal strength to his grandson by besting someone as big as I was. It had been a long time since he had he faced an opponent my size, yet he still had what it took to fell this sequoia like I was a sapling. The grandson grinned like a Cheshire cat as Gramps squeezed boastful cockiness out of my body like I was a mop being put through the ringer. He was crushing this strong Muscleman Mule to pieces in the vise of his mighty arms. Tears were welling in my eyes from the colossal effort of the struggle and sheer embarrassment of being bested by a man with one foot in the grave. I would love to say it was merely dust in my eyes, but I know you wouldn't believe such an assertion.
Every grappler young and old knows that the bearhug is the greatest demonstration of one man dominating another, Muscle Gramps longed to give Mule a taste of this and show off his ultimate power: crushing my mammoth musclebound body to smithereens against the anvil of his timeless preternatural strength.
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| Muscle Gramps crushes Mule in his powerful Bearhug |
He would enjoy overcoming me in his powerful embrace, forcing this muscular young giant to submit while his grandson watched, fapped and cheered. The very thought of the glory of victory over a stud, so much his junior, was making the old-timer harder than from the cialis that was normally required to sustain any sort of erection in his aging donger. His hard on was as solid and strong as a teenager's boner.
Muscle Gramps wrapped his rock hard guns around the small of my back. He began squeezing with all his strength. His face grimaced from his mighty effort. He immediately began to shake hard, up and down, my huge, muscular body. Your Mule felt the awesome power of the old man. I groaned in pain as I desperately struggled to free myself. “Give up, Sonny boy” demanded Muscle-Memory through clenched teeth.
“NEVER!” I roared defiantly as I began to desperately club the broad back of my tormentor with my left hand.
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| Give up! You know you want to! You're no match for me, son! |
Gramps leaned forward and put his mouth right next to my ear as he said “Give up! You know you want too! You’ve been needing somebody big and strong like me who can dominate you” Gramps began to grind into my pubes. He rubbed his eight pack abs against mine. I could feel his thick rock hard horse cock rubbing against mine. Only the thin cotton of his jock strap and the thin spandex of my speedo were separating our twin python cocks from each other. He used his cock to masturbate mine with long firm strokes. I groaned in pleasure.
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| Gramps crushed me in his powerful arms. He rubbed his hairy muscle pecs against my spiking nipples while he ground his iron hard boner into mine |
|
| I think you like me kicking your ass |
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| You like being dominated by another muscleman, don't you, Mule? Being defeated and fucked by another bodybuilder turns you on! |
Once again Gramps hissed in my ear “You need to be fucked, Muscleboy. You need me to fuck you over and over and over again and again and again, don’t you?” teased Gramps as he continued to masturbate his beefy challenger.
I was rapidly panting for breath. Disgusting as it was, Gramp's grinding on my cock was turning me on. And as much as I hate to admit it, his seductive words were getting to me also. Gramps had me trapped and continue to squeeze me. I began to feel submissive due to my powerless position. It turned me on even more.
Gramp's nuzzled my cheek as he continued to whisper in my ear. “I think you like me kicking your ass, like I’ve done all evening,
because it feels sooooooooo gooooooood being dominated by another muscleman, doesn’t it? Is there any thing hotter than one bodybuilder defeating and then fucking another bodybuilder?”
I whimpered involuntarily from the grinding on my cock. Gramps apparently took my whimper as a "Yes".
“See. Gramps knows. I know what you need.” he said as he rubbed his hairy muscle
pecs against my beefy pecs and spiking nipples as he ground his boner into mine.
I breathlessly moaned. I couldn’t take much more of Gramps’ hot as fuck muscle foreplay and seductive taunting. Gramps had made me so hot, so horny with all his erotic talk that I was about to explode.
"I think you are ready now to know what having a real muscleman rape your muscle ass is like ...” And with that Gramp's finally released his bearhug. One on One, Man to Man, Bodybuilder to Bodybuilder, he had taken me. And even worse, I had no excuses for my loss, he had won fairly. I was too weak to take advantage of the opening. All I could do was stand there with my chest and abs heaving to get air back in my lungs and fight not to pass out.
Gramps was standing directly in front of me, hands on his hips, making sure he was taking up my whole field of vision. Then with a slight smile and a wink at his grandson, he slipped his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his jock strap and in one smooth move, stripped off his jock, letting it slide to the floor. He kicked it with one foot towards his grandson.
I stared slack jawed. What I saw next made my mouth water. Gramps right hand was stroking a huge, thick veiny muscle cock topped with a big shiny red swollen head. He released it. It violently reared up on its own throbbing, twitching wildly. The old man's cock was as hard as teenager's. Clear syrup leaked from the top completely covering it. The massive cock throbbed and bobbed up and down. Gramps was hung like a horse!
Then Gramps flexed his arms as he cooed, “Here I am, Muscleboy, Feel my body. Feel my muscles, feel my muscle cock... It’s all for you ... .”
|
| Pumped from battle, his arms and chest, even his cock, were now as big as mine. |
Fuck I thought. Pumped from battle, his arms and chest, even his cock, were now as big as mine. The old fucker was even sporting a deeply ridged set of eight pac abs on par with mine. His stunning muscle packed physique looked fucking photoshopped.
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| The old fucker was even sporting a deeply ridged set of eight pack abs on par with mine on his stunning muscle packed physique |
It was a misnomer to keep calling Gramps an "old" Bodybuilder. He was pure and simple a "Bodybuilder" every bit and as much as I was. No qualifiers were needed. He had been right when he said this match was "Bodybuilder vs Bodybuilder"! And Gramps was determined to prove decisively that he was the stronger bodybuilder.
I couldn’t resist the temptation. I slowly ran my hands all over Gramp’s massive body, packed with gnarly mature muscle as hard as granite. My breathing grew more frantic, as I indulged myself feeling my fellow bodybuilder up and down, worshiping his muscle. The bodybuilder muscle Gramps had used to kick my ass and seduce me.
Gramps did a most muscular pose, tensing all his muscles to their maximum size. Dense muscle popped to massive proportions as Gramps flexed his incredible physique. He looked like a statue of Zeus, the king of the gods. I was beside himself with wanton lust. My male hormones wildly rampaged throughout my body. The old muscle god had done it, he had queered me to full homo.
“Get ready,Muscleboy. My massive
muscle meat is about to plow your ass. You will hear my bull balls slapping against your muscle butt as I rape you senseless!!!”
Gramps stepped forward and once again wrapped his mighty arms around me as he reapplied his bearhug. I tried to resist but in my weakened state my efforts were futile. Gramps had dominated me physically and mentally. It was like he had made me enjoy my own muscle destruction, and turned me queer while doing it. Like some kind of Jedi mind trick. I was desperately trying to clear the mind fuck out of my brain.
He applied his bearhug with less power than before. A few minutes before it had been like being trapped in a car-crusher. This time he was using just enough strength to keep me under control. His battering ram of a cock pressed into the underside my own fuckpole. He passionately embraced me in his bearhug as he crushed my own horse cock with his equally strong man tool. He whispered, “I’m going to butt-fuck the living daylights out of you. I’m going to fuck the arrogance out of you, Muscleboy and put you in your place. You will be totally dominated. ” he growled as he smashed his mighty cock into mine, making me grunt in pain.
Gramps held his manmeat in my cock as he said. “You feel my cock? It's big and throbbing and powerful and hard as an iron pipe!" I winced from the pressure of Gramps'
cock on mine. “Just think about A big older muscle guy like me fucking your young muscle ass. My Big thighs around you ... My Big pecs ... My Big arms ...fucking you. All those bodybuilder muscles you were just worshiping will be fucking you. Fucking you with a gigantic, wet, slippery, dripping donkey dick that will blast a sea of steamy, hot cum deep into you ....you want to feel a real man's big cock bust a load all up in you, don’t you..."
“NO! NEVER! Fuck you!” I shouted.
“Oh no, Muscleboy, I get to fuck you ... and there is nothing you can do to stop me. My strength has allowed me to rape anyone I wanted... I have fucked dozens of big strong unwilling men...men bigger than you” Gramps tightened his grip.
“OOOOOOHHHHHH!” I groaned.
“And I’m looking forward to breeding you, Muscleboy. My huge cock is ready and waiting to get into the ass crack of your magnificent ass to seek out your hole. Can you feel that monster cock of mine pulsating with desire for your hole, Muscleboy? Or should I call you my Musclebitch now..” he said as he thrust his hips, slamming his cock up against mine.
“Don't call me "muscle-boy or your Muscle-bitch!". I’m the only real man here ... a real human being, not some testosterone filled steroid using Viagra addicted freak of nature ...you.. you're a mutant or Dr Frankenstein's bastard kid or something,” I groaned.
Rage flooded through Gramps’ body. “Oh yeah, Muscleboy? A real man? Well, I can make you scream like a GIRL” He squeezed even harder. “You’re just a muscled up gym meathead with a big dick...And I’m going to enjoy taking you down a notch. You ready to spread those muscle ass cheeks for me, Muscleboy? !!!” Gramps confidently growled while his his grandson cheered!
I furiously beat the old muscleman's twisted rebar lats that were like rippling waves in choppy seas. After a series of brutal blows, Muscle Gramps’s grip came apart as he was driven to his knees, his years finally taking their toll as his energy waned. I instantly clobbered his chin with my knee, which jolted Muscle Gramps backwards to the floor. Now the old man was seeing stars!
But I was in no shape to follow up on my momentary advantage. Señor Senior had given me too great a shellacking. Clutching the small of my damaged back with one hand, I staggered backward, collapsing against a wall as I fought for air. The great plates of my chest heaved in heavy, undulating waves as my face registered the intense agony I suffered with every breath I took. The grandson could see the ugly black bruises that pockmarked my entire rib cage. I vigorously shook my head, trying to regain my senses as I struggled through the pain.
For a few seconds, Muscle Gramps lay on the floor massaging his chin before he slowly clambered to his feet. He, too, shook out his head to wipe away the cobwebs. Seeing my distress, as I slumped in the corner heavily sucking in air and leaning against the wall, Gramps' expression took on a predatory look. The mighty septuagenarian immediately took full advantage of the opportunity. Pepperidge Farm who had been slowing down, managed to tap some reservoir of energy and with surprising speed and athleticism rushed toward me and jumped up onto my mountainous thighs as he put his hands on the back of my thick neck and flipped me over onto the floor. SLAM!
For a third time the breath was knocked out of your Mule’s body. Stunned by the suddenness of the move and its affects, I groggily tried to find my feet, only to be met by my aged adversary, who scooped me up and brutally body-slammed me back down to the floor with great authority. The force was so powerful that the I was again knocked senseless. The septuagenarian grabbed me by my hair, forcing me up to my buckling legs. As this Mule wobbled in place, Muscle Gramps re-applied his devastating frontal bearhug.
The Kid let out a cheer as his Gramps locked me in the bear hug hold. My eyes flew wide open in shock. I was again being crushed in the powerful arms of my beefy opponent, our two bodies pressed together, an erotically stimulating site for the gawking, drooling grandson. I threw my head back and groaned loudly as the crush began. I had been softened up by Gramp's repeated holds and it was immediately clear from my reaction that I was worn down and much weaker than when the match began. His earlier muscle destroying efforts were now being rewarded as a grunting Gramps was forcing painful groan after groan from me. Hopelessly caught in this primitive, beautiful, rib-grinding bearhug, my huge cock was pressed straight up against Muscle Gramp’s tight abs, squashed between our two bodybuilder physiques. The intensity of this erotic, sexually hot bearhug drove the spectator grandson into orgasmic overdrive. He exploded like a volcano. Spewing his punk sperm all over himself.
My face was showing my pain. Muscle Gramps’ features were etched with determination to crush me, his mighty opponent. Gramps was envious of my beautiful, heavily muscled body, he lusted after the vigor and beauty of my youth, which he felt was wasted on a Nancy Pants of insufficient spirit and toughness. The half a century older grappler wanted to destroy my Herculean magnificence, and ruin my Adonis good looks. Gramps felt he had gained a modicum of revenge on my youth and beauty, by showcasing his greater strength. He was proving to me and his own grandson, that he REMAINED the mightiest man in the room.
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| Strongest man in the room! |
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| Despite my best efforts, Gramps had made a laughingstock out of me |
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| "Who's your daddy, Mule. Who's your daddy!" Gramps imagined the sport he would have with the young, beautiful Mule. |
Muscle Gramps, still in his lusty reverie, readjusted his arms, again wrapping them around the small of his much younger rival’s back as he ratcheted up the power of his great squeeze. Not that he even considered me a rival, at this point in the bout. I felt the deadly power of my opponent. My face was contorted in horrific agony as I bellowed out in excruciating pain. With all his might, Muscle Gramps attempted to crack my ribs. “Give up !” he roared again as his face winched from his great effort.
Your Mule knew I was in dire jeopardy, as this young blond giant felt my ribs bending, on verge of breaking. I screamed for all I was worth as my arms and legs flailed wildly about. "UNNNNHHHGGGG...No, Fuck No, OH Fuck... your breaking my back ...UNNNNHHHH....!!!" I groaned helplessly. My handsome visage, already distorted by the pain, easily gave the grandson an idea of the immense physical pressure my great body was under, but now my helpless groans verified it. The Mighty Muscle Gramps continuously poured on more pressure on this younger man, and I felt the fight in me dissipating. My back and ribs, bruised already, were being systematically softened up for the kill. My breathing was being constricted keeping air from entering into my mountainous chest. Helpless I was feeling my stamina being drained from my once proud self, as my head rolled about my thick bull neck like I had become a Mule bobble-head. Yes, once again it had been Bodybuilder vs Bodybuilder, but this time I had come up short.
"You got him Gramps, finish him now and fuck his ass....Give up Mule, give up and take your fucking...." the Kid was yelling.
I have succumbed and submitted to far less punishment than that inflicted on me already by the Old-timer. I have to admit that were it not for the the age of my opponent I would already be seeing hearts rather than red rage...but my pride would not allow me to surrender to and be fucked by such an elderly foe.
Once more, sliding his head under his opponent’s arm pit, Muscle Gramps calmly tightened his grip, crushing my back and ribs even more. Not even Grappler Dan had put such a hurt on me. How was this even possible...was Gramps some sort of CYBORG?
“Give up!” snorted the powerful septuagenarian. The squeezing force of Muscle Gramps was unbelievably powerful-- his extraordinarily strong arms were steadily, inexorably driving me toward submission and ignominious defeat. “You're no match for me, son” gloated the mighty septuagenarian muscleman. “I am crushing you! Admit your inferiority and save yourself even more pain and broken bones!”
Muscle Gramps had, by now, taken complete control of your Mule, showing me how it felt to be bearhugged without mercy by a superior man. Much as the Venerable Grappler's taunts fueled my continued resistance, the reality of the excruciating pain forced me to concede in my thoughts that his braggadocio was not without considerable merit. With each mighty squeeze my massive body jerked, tugged and pulled vainly trying to find an avenue of escape. Whenever I’d put my hands under Muscle Gramp’s jaw and attempt to push the septuagenarian’s head and body away, the old-timer simply powered-up his hug and squeezed ever harder and I would drop my arms. The bone crushing pressure on my back and ribcage was driving me inexorably toward submission.
"How long can Mule endure the excruciating power of my grandpa's mighty squeeze before his ribs and spine give way to crippling ruin? No one has EVER held out against Gramps THIS long" whispered the grandson, with grudging respect for Mule's endurance. He also feared lawsuits...Perhaps he should stop this match and just fuck him.... there was no way the Mule would be able to stop Gramps from raping him at this point even if he wouldn't submit. Gramps had had his victory, there was no reason to permanently injure the young strongman.
I no longer had the strength to fight for escape. My torso was leaning backwards as was my head; my mouth was wide open; my breathing was laborious and disconcerting to hear; my arms hung lifeless at my sides, and my legs barely supported me. I appeared to the grandson as if I were virtually out cold on my feet. “How much longer before Mule gives up? This is getting ridiculous, Gramps has already kicked the Mule's ass...Gramps should just rape him.” thought the grandson, with a broad, confident smile plastered across his face. "That-it, Gramps! Squeeze that fucking muscle bound bastard until his head explodes!” Although his overweening pride in Gramps was tempered by a little by a gnawing fear of litigation, for it would be HIS inheritance that would be sued away.
My only confirmation that I was still conscious was that I continued to groan in pain as I continued to feel the power of the older bodybuilder’s hug sapping the last vestiges of my strength from my once mighty body.
Standing straight up in front of his opponent once again, Muscle Gramps sneered in my slack-jawed face, hissing spit from the corners of his mouth. “Now who is the strongest? Huh? Who?”
"Fuck, you are... you're stronger...stronger than me..." was the thought that was in my head. But I said nothing. There was no reply from me as I still desperately fought for consciousness. My pride would not let me admit that this ancient relic was stronger than I was. With my breathing severely labored, my eyes closed, your Mule totally collapsed backwards in the arms of my mighty tormentor, which gave my overpowering opponent even better leverage in his deadly hug. Only Muscle Gramp's vise grip kept this Mule from falling to the floor. I collapsed in my mighty tormentor’s arms. Holding his now weakened rival with only one arm, a gloating Muscle Gramps grinned with intense pride at his destruction of the younger bodybuilder hunk, Mule. He ran the index finger of his free hand over my chest already contemplating collecting the fruits of his victory. As he forced me to bend farther backwards Muscle Gramps bellowed triumphantly “You're done, son. You're fucking done... I have defeated you...and I will fuck you whether you give up or not!” He fingered my lips with his free hand, parting them with probing digits, eventually finger fucking my mouth as I was helpless to resist such indignities.
The grandson boisterously cheered and clapped his encouragement with a chant of, “YOU WON! YOU WON! HE'S FUCKING DONE...! NOW RAPE HIM, RAPE HIS ASS....” Watching his grandpa destroy the arrogant muscle stud had been hot as fuck, but he secretly was glad that it was over. He wanted to see the big Mule fucked. And doing it by force and against my will was even hotter, Gramps would rape the unwilling and resisting Mule. The Kid had seen this many times before. It was the old man's final hold on his opponents. Over the years his Gramps had raped anyone he wanted to. He was just too powerful for anyone, including the Mule, to stop.
Still holding this Mule with only one arm about my waist, Muscle Gramps moved his saliva covered fingers down to squeeze
my huge cock trying to force this young Muscleman to shoot off my pent up ocean of cum that had been simmering in my balls since the beginning of the match. The crushing pain to my cock seemed to revive me. My eyes popped wide open as I righted himself in Muscle Gramp’s arms, to be met with the hard, cold stare of my adversary.
“SUBMIT!” demanded Muscle Gramps once again.
Your Mule hallucinating from the pain saw my late Ganny in a vision, "You let this tired old man take your ass and you will shame every ancestor of yours from the dawn of time!" This spurred me into one final effort, it was a last Hail Mary play, in double overtime, where he would either be the hero or the goat.
With what strength I had left, I raised my hands high above my head, interlaced my fingers together into one giant ten-digit fist, and brought it down with titanic force on the top of Muscle Gramps’s head. The blow momentarily stunned the older muscleman, but not enough to allow this young Muscleman to escape. It did, however, allow the release of my abused cock, that once more became buried between our two burly, heavily muscled bodies.
Quickly, another big squeeze from the relentless elder strongman seemed to prevent all hope of ever breaking the hold. A helpless Mule dropped my arms as if they were made of lead. I groaned out in agony. Once more this Mule was steadily being driven toward surrender. I once more lifted my hands upward as if I was finally surrendering. I threw my head back as if I was in sheer agony.
The only retaliation left open to Mule was a savage head butt to Muscle Gramps forehead. The blow was go powerful that it staggered the ancient muscled titan and sent his dentures flying into his grandson's cum stained lap. Your Mule hurriedly followed it up with a series of stiff punches and elbows to his opponent’s toothless head that rocked him on his heels. Another vicious head butt finally broke the hold, enabling this Mule to escape the deadly embrace of my powerful opponent.
I staggered backwards, struggling to catch my breath as I wrapped my massive arms around my battered ribs for protection. Slowly, I made my way to a corner where I leaned my immensely broad back against the wall, still hugging my bruised ribs and gasping for air. There I stood, motionless-- my head hung down as if in a self induced trance trying to recoup my lost energy and strength.
Muscle Gramps , having back-peddled to the opposite wall, quickly recovered. He stormed back toward me and hit a startled Mule, awakening me from my stupor with such a powerful backhanded slap that it nearly took my handsome head off my yard wide shoulders. The blow straightened your Mule right up so Muscle Gramps could reapply his brutal bearhug. Immediately your Mule reached skyward with both hands. I flexed my mammoth arms to gather up my strength calling on the spirits of all my ancestors. Then I rammed my arms down in between the elderly muscle god’s arms and started to power out of the savage, crushing hold.
Feeling his mighty arms begin to be pried apart and your Mule start to slide out of his sweaty bearhug, Muscle Gramps lifted his musclebound prey off my feet and raced toward the opposite wall where he plowed your Mule’s broad back into it. I felt my bell rung like I was a high striker hit by a sledgehammer.
This young Muscleman grunted like an ape from the powerful impact arching my back as I did. Then Muscle Gramps drove a series of shoulder blocks into my stomach.
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| Muscle Gramps drove a series of classic American football style shoulder slams into my mid-section knocking the wind out of me |
I heard the fat lady warming up with scales and felt goat horns growing from the top of my throbbing head. Using all his weight, the septuagenarian followed up his Mule-slam with a series of classic American football style shoulder slams.
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| Grandpa was using me as a tackle dummy! |
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| I felt like Bluto getting his comeuppance from a spinach-fueled Popeye |
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| I felt like I was on wheels as he rolled me back toward the wall |
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| The impact of the old man felt like a battering ram on my already worked over abs |
They hit like battering ram demolition into my abs, then he added a series of tremendous gut-wrenching punches to my mid section for good measure. Then like some sort of triumphant Anaconda he recaptured his battered opponent in a new deadly squeeze.
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| I was once more at the mercy of this geriatric Terminator, but it was I who was being crushed in a metal press |
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| Gramps only needed one arm to hold the Mule, using the other to finger my fine young ass. |
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| Gramps applied a crushing leg scissors on me and in this game of Grappler Rochambeau all I was displaying was paper! |
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| I felt like I was a heretic on a medieval rack and Gramps was the Grand Inquisitor |
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| 100 generations of my ancestors were voicing their disapproval in my head! |
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| Tap out Mule, there is no shame in conceding to an obviously far superior man! |
Muscle Gramps put a leg scissors on a near stupefied Mule as he totally dominated me. He wasted no time in applying a powerful squeeze on the already damaged ribs of his adversary. I heard the sobs and sighs of 100 generations of my ancestors.
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| I heard the sobs and sighs of 100 generations of my ancestors! |
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| Take heed boy, guys like Mule may look tough, but like every male of his X-box generation he is just another pussy boy soon to be crying for his Momma when I plow his ass! |
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| Gramps rubbed his ass in my face as he toyed with my donger, as confident of victory, he began to sport with me. |
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| You got a fine firm ass there, Mule. It will be fun claiming it as my prize! |
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| We might have to a rematch when I turn 90, you just MIGHT have a chance then, if you haven't gone all Caitlyn Jenner by that time, Nancy boy! |
The seventy eight year old champion slapped on a tight headlock. Time and time again during this match he had not only out fought and over-powered and dramatically dominated this young muscle stud, but had patently out muscled this self proclaimed strongest man at his grandson's gym. "Ha, Must be one of those rainbow gyms for Nancies," thought Gramps unimpressed. I meanwhile heard my military ancestors playing taps.
Then the old man quickly converted his headlock into a deadly rear naked choke hold.
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| I guess this means you are my girl friend, pussy boy! |
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| You can tap out any time, girly man! |
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| They call me the reverse chiropractor, I will throw every bone in your body OUT of alignment. |
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| You sure you haven't had enough yet? I am feeling embarrassed for you, kid. |
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| I think I will have you tongue shine my boots when we are finished here... |
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| GRR grr grr. GRRR..you are not much of a conversationalist, are you Mule? You just have to grunt out one word...UNCLE. |
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| Ready for naptime kiddo? I've put better men than you to bed with this hold! |
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| I felt my consciousness ebbing away... |
Muscle Gramps didn't release the choke hold until I was nearly unconscious. The old man could have choked me out to take the win, but he wanted a verbal submission. He wanted his grandson to hear me beg for mercy and then submit like every contender before me. All had gone into the ring cocky as fuck, and left skulking away in shame and disgrace doing the ass-slammed shuffle.
The veteran Muscle Gramps and his grandson exchanged army style salutes in a "mission accomplished" gesture. The Mule had been defeated. Now there was just the satisfaction of hearing him admit it and the taking of the Mule's ass.
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| Mission accomplished Gramps, yet another big muscled Nancy-boy bites the dust, as you like to say! |
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| "It ain't over until I say it's over," I protested unconvincingly |
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| The kid only dons the helmet when the fat lady has sung Mule, don't shame yourself any further, just face REALITY. |
"OK..." .the kid said as he squatted down next to the wrecked Mule..." you're defeated...now let's hear you say it. Let's hear you give up and admit my grandpa kicked your fucking ass....so you can get fucked"
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| "Let's hear you give up and admit my grandpa kicked your fucking ass...." |
When your Mule shook my head NO the old man just smiled. He put his thumbs into the waistband of his jock strap and dropped it to the floor. A steel hard one eyed purple headed monster that thanks to a triple dose of Viagra was every bit as hard and large as mine sprung out, slapping against his abs as it was freed. I was about to get fucked, if I didn't submit, I would be raped. Gramps pulled this battered muscleman off the floor. He once again applied his incredible bearhug for some further convincing.
Pressing their bodies together, Muscle Gramps -- grunting -- slowly, ever-so-slowly, built up the pressure, deliberately prolonging his savage torture as he compressed our two bodybuilder physiques.
My eyes rolled about my head as excruciating pain furrowed deep into my face. I moaned and cried out in the twin sensations of pain and pleasure as the stronger man systematically ratcheted up the intolerable pressure of his deadly bearhug. My once magnificent body began to go limp in Muscle Gramps powerful embrace. “ We went bodybuilder to bodybuilder. My muscles against yours. And now, I want feel your gigantic muscles surrender to my superior muscles, son” grunted the mighty septuagenarian. "I have to admit you are a purty one, it will be more than your muscles that soon will be surrendering! Your ass is mine..." --he added, pervily licking his lips.
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| I was once more the Old Man's unwilling dance partner, slow dancing in the crushing embrace of his killer bearhug. |
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| It was I, not the Old Man that was turning into soggy Rice Krispies as my back went Snap, Crackle, Pop |
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| Enjoying the dance? I guess this makes you my girl friend! |
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| I am starting to think you are enjoying this...you some sort of froot-loop masochist or something? |
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| I desperately struggled, but couldn’t find an opening to release myself from the excruciating bearhug |
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| Mule was locked in a pose of suffering as he begin to pass out from the impossibly tight, deadly hug |
I desperately struggled, but couldn’t find an opening to release myself from the excruciating bearhug and avoid the impending humiliating submission and fucking.
The grandson could only think about the hot image of a defeated Mule being raped by his muscled Grandfather, while like some medieval sculpted Pietà , I was locked in a pose of suffering as I begin to pass out from his impossibly tight, deadly hug.
But I was refusing to black out or surrender! A wounded beast is always the most dangerous! I was now a man in a desperate situation-- and hearing the thundering drums of my tribal ancestors, I was a man who simply could not quit and give this geezer satisfaction.
In a desperate move, I locked both my hands on the back of Muscle Gramps head. I then dropped to my knees, dragging my opponent down with me. Muscle Gramps ’s chin hit violently hard on my brick hard skull. On impact a stunned Muscle Gramps released his hold as he fell over onto the mat holding his toothless jaw with both hands.
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| In a desperate move, I locked both my hands on the back of Muscle Gramps head |
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| My muscles bulged as I began to drag the weakening codger down toward the mat |
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| I maneuvered to bounce Gramps off the mats like a big rubber ball. |
He continually rolled around on the mat clutching his chin with both hands, spitting out blood in the process as he bellowed out in pain. I, also, was lying on the floor desperately gasping for breath, my bruised ribs plainly visible. This musclebound gladiator needed a breather from the titanic battle.
But instead, Muscle Gramps capitalized on his advantage, lifting both knees up and sinking them deep into my exposed abs as he landed on top of me. Muscle Gramps scrambled to his feet. He savagely kicked me in the gut and groin, even stomping down with full force on my cock as I laid spread eagle flat on my back. The grandson let out a cheer.
As Muscle Gramps continued kicking and stomping his downed rival, your Mule, doubled over to protect myself as best I could, waited for an opportunity. It came quickly. As Muscle Gramps stopped for a second to change feet to resume his attack, this Mule rolled over, grabbed my rival’s leg and flipped him to the mat. This gave me time to get to my feet however wobbly my legs were. Patiently I waited until Muscle Gramps was standing. Suddenly I charged. While Muscle Gramps went high, I went low to avoid the septuagenarian's mighty arms. I went under them, placing Muscle Gramps in my own powerful bearhug.
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| Chronos was not so cocky when he felt the devastating embrace of MY formidable BEARHUG |
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| Now it was time for Grandpa to pay for his insults with pain! |
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| You will need one of those motorized chair scooter things to get around when I am done with you, Old Man! |
"Now it will be over", I thought. I knew that my strength in this devastating hold would be too much for this creaky old has-been. Muscle Gramps cried out in agony as his geriatric muscle body was smashed up against the solid iron frame of your Mule. He felt his spine being crushed. He swung his arms wildly to free himself but he was held too fast and too tight. He knew his back was weakening. Even he could not withstand this pressure forever. To add insult to injury, this Mule was able to ram the head of my massive cock into the underside of Muscle Gramps nut sack. As I steadily applied more and more pressure to my brutalizing hold, Muscle Gramps fought back with his ebbing strength as best he could. Muscle Gramps agonizing torment was clearly etched on his wrinkled face for his grandson to see. It was like he was aging before our eyes! I grinned into the pain-ravaged face of the old man. I heard 100 generations of my ancestors break out in applause. Now sure, I might have been experiencing a pain-fueled auditory hallucination, I will leave it to my readers to decide.
My arms fully flexed around the musclebound septuagenarian’s waist as I forced Muscle Gramps 's mighty chest deeper into my nipples, which, to the old strongman, felt like two massive iron spikes drilling into him. To add further distress, this Mule flexed my pecs, scrapping my large nipples across those of my opponent’s sending electrical charges of erotic stimulation that the old man hadn't felt in years throughout his withering body. The captive powerhouse’s brain was being fried with unaccustomed lust stimulated first by near victory and now in impending defeat. The old man who had not lost a match in nearly 60 years, felt an overwhelming urge to succumb to this beefy protagonist for whom he now unmistakably pined.
This young Muscleman shook Muscle Gramps like a rag doll from side to side. The excruciating pressure on his back increased as Muscle Gramps continued to moan and groan. Your Mule put all of my might into the hold. My muscles swelled to new dimensions. My massive lats widened so broad, like twin barn doors, that they nearly bloated out Muscle Gramps from view. The septuagenarian slowly maneuvered his hands down into this Mule's bearhug, forcing his arms inside my pulverizing vise grip that was quickly grinding the will to fight out of him.
Now another test of strength was on. Muscle Gramps pushed outward with his arms as your Mule flexed my massive guns and tried with all my might to crush the life out of my rival. Then, using a hidden reservoir of incredible strength, in one swift more, the mighty septuagenarian powered out of the deadly bearhug.
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| Sure Gramps had escaped my Bearhug of Doom, but was there any fight left in the tired old ruin? |
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| I immediately reapplied my inexorable Bearhug to the doddering old has-been! |
I was shocked beyond belief but immediately reapplied the hold as my opponent staggered backwards. Muscle Gramps felt the unbearable punishment once more. This time, your Mule followed up with a head butt as I again constantly rammed my fuckpole into the big beast's manhood. My forehead hit the bridge of the septuagenarian's nose opening a wound that began to bleed. Muscle Gramps' head snapped back from the impact. He was dazed for a moment.
Still Past Perfect recalled he had broken this all-powerful pulverizing bearhug once before, proving he could power out of your Mule's strongest hold. He again called on hitherto unknown reservoirs of strength. He reached forward placing his powerful hands on my massive bolder size deltoids. He applied as much pressure as he was able to the muster. Your Mule could not believe it. After only seconds in my bearhug, Muscle Gramps should have been begging for mercy. Instead, he had been humped and smashed for several minutes and powered out. Now he was fighting out of it again. I felt my own shoulders giving way under the relentless pressure of the mighty septuagenarian's powerful hands. My bearhug fell away as I lost feeling in both my arms from Muscle Gramps' supernatural strength. The Mule's mighty arms fell helpless to my side. I would have dropped to the mat but Muscle Gramps' steel claw hold on my shoulders held me upright. I looked into the Muscle Gramps' face. Muscle Gramps was grinning from ear to ear at my noticeable suffering and his own obvious superior strength. I heard the boos and raspberries of my ancestors in their obvious displeasure at my lackluster performance.
In desperation your Mule kneed Muscle Gramps in the abs. The septuagenarian released his claws as he stumbled backwards finally falling on his ass in a sitting position.
This Mule stood behind the muscled man and put my knee in Muscle Gramps back as I jerked his head back. Muscle Gramps' body was forced to arch back opening his chest vulnerably wide. Your Mule raised my forearm and smashed it down across Muscle Gramps' pectoral mass. Again and again this Mule smashed Muscle Gramps' body. Finally I let go of my grip on Muscle Gramps' head. The elder muscled form slumped to the floor groaning in pain lying prone on his back.
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| Gramps powered out of my iron hold! |
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| Not so fast, old-timer, Not so fast! |
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| Stop it Mule, you could KILL Gramps! |
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| Naw, I am just gonna give him a good throttling! |
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| I call this particular maneuver: THE SPANISH INQUISITION |
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| Gramps, are you alright? Gramps? |
I pulled Muscle Gramps back up to a sitting position from behind. I then slipped my left arm across Muscle Gramp's throat, while pressing my right arm against the back of the septuagenarian's head for support. Muscle Gramps felt my arm sinking into his throat.
The grandson was stunned by the turn of events. His grandfather was holding on to the Mule's massive arm to prevent him from locking in the sleeper completely, while this mighty Mule flexed my muscles to try overpower him. Muscle Gramps found his breathing constrained by the hold. The grandson suddenly felt a rising panic for the first time during the match, worried that his grandfather could be knocked out by the Mule.
"Not so strong now... are you, old man?" Mule whispered into Muscle Gramps ear. Muscle Gramps was unable to pry Mule's arms away, but he managed to block the hold enough to prevent me from crushing his windpipe. He was buying time as he struggled to think of his counter move. I wrapped one massively muscled arm around Muscle Gramp's neck while the other secured his head. Muscle Gramps was being smothered in a cocoon of solid muscle as my massive muscles began to flex and grow. My rock-solid gargantuan muscles crushed relentlessly against Muscle Gramps neck and head. Gramps seemed to shrink in size.
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| Sleepy time Grandpa, sleepy time! |
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| Wow the Mule is actually beating Gramps, what an incredible stud! ♥♥♥ |
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| You thought you were tougher than the Mule? Dream on Founding Father! |
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| Time for a certain old geezer to be saying UNCLE, isn't it Gramps? |
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| The kid was now wildly cheering for ME, as he lovingly drank in my muscular magnificence. You are loving it also, aren't you readers? It's alright, fap away, I'm used to it. |
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| Oh lookie, it's lights out for Grandpa! |
Muscle Gramps entire world began to slow just before everything faded to darkness. Muscle Gramps was out cold. I heard the cheers of his grandson, once Gramps' number one booster, now cheering for ME. It was like a Giants fan suddenly cheering for the Patriots.
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| Gramps was out cold! |
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| I have grown colossally in the kid's esteem. |
I sauntered triumphantly past the Grandson who was in abject awe of me and utterly smitten. He had never known his Grandpa to lose, and so I had become his new hero and man-crush. I pulled on my jeans and sneaks, picked up my tee shirt, and headed out for my jeep. I got out on the front walk and with an evil smirk, I pulled my pants down a bit, and strutted across the lawn. It was a final taunt to the OLD MAN. Yet, I am not too proud. The old fart dominated the battle for very nearly the entire match, and he was born like in Pleistocene, but those Cro-magnon's are tough, let me tell ya! So I am STILL declaring this a clear VICTORY!
As the fight adrenaline rapidly left my body, I began to feel the effects of the beating I had taken. I got into my jeep cringing from the pain, then suddenly felt light headed and lost consciousness, slumped over the steering wheel.
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| Mule VICTORIOUS! |
I woke up an hour later in a bed, back in the house, my wounds being carefully and lovingly ministered to by the kid. "Just rest, Mule"...the kid said...."you had a great victory, I have never known anyone to stand up to Gramps much less best him... but you took one hell of an ass kicking doing so.... He massaged my giant bruised muscles gently with balm, his eyes in hypnotized fascination of every curve and crevice in the body of his new hero. Gramps sure beat the crap out of your big, tough body....but I am here to take care of you champ. What a fight, It was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. You were incredible Mule...but taking on Gramps clearly put you in a world of hurt...but that is where I come in...you need some proper nursing, don't worry, I took a first aid class, so I will take care of you....Gramps is fine, by the way, he's eating ice cream and watching Wheel of Fortune..." --he cooed laying gentle 'healing' kisses on my massive pec shelf, and then down my cobblestone ab road as he slobbered toward his ultimate nirvana. "Kid is a damn jock-sniffer after all", I thought, then once again all faded to black.
I had to work from home for the next week and a half, and was in considerable pain for a month. Still when I finally got back to the gym, grandson was put to work washing my gym clothes and towels, I call him TOWEL BOY. Yeah I still don't remember his actual name.
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| Summoning Towel Boy |
FURTHER READING:
If you liked this story may we recommend: Daddy Issues: Parts One, Two and Epilogue; and Dishonored; two tales where Mule also gets embroiled in tricky family situations stemming from gym encounters.
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NOTA BENE: This story knocked off a brand new Musing posted shortly before it off the main page, so be sure to check it out by clicking on OLDER POSTS at the bottom right.
W O N D E R F U L ! I LOVE IT ALL ....MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteI really like your stories - the fighting is hot and it's clear you have a great sense of humor. I know many will disagree with me, butI wish you had more stories where after all the back-and-forth, Mule is the one ultimately put out cold, his magnificent body humiliated and last-one fucked. To me, he even more a stud getting his ass really kicked more often - very hot to see the alpha man dethroned now and then. I know there are some stories like this, but I have difficulty finding them - any, just a thought. I know you will keep writing as you think best - just keep writing1 Thanks
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