Mule's Blog: Mule And The Trust Fund Slut

HELL HATH NO FURY.....

...LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED!

Readers of this blog have given this story an average rating of 3.4 Mules out of 5, but we think this tale will come to be more appreciated by readers in the fullness of time. Give it a try, it is pretty cool!

Mule And The Trust Fund Slut:

Story by Mule,original art by Steve, edited by Stefan

Sometimes a spoiled rich girl, used to getting everything she wants, just needs to broken in by an alpha cowboy like the Mule. This is a pro-bono service he provides for the benefit of society and the character development of the sloot in question. Considering the number of wild snooty mares he has humbled, Mule should really be considered for some sort of humanitarian award.

Still one of these sloots, proved to be more of a challenge than the rest, but given she was a dime, she was worth the effort, even if she did have an epic taint of privilege... one of of Kardashian proportions. Millicent had only dated milksop fops with names like laine, Whittaker, Aldritch or Digby and who fancied themselves badasses on the lacrosse field or squash courts, but whom she had lead around by their cocks off the field.

Millicent's 'men'

estowed with both wealth and beauty, Millicent had grown accustomed to holding court over men, first her father, than a parade of boyfriends who she used and discarded with the frequency she acquired a new Iphone

Mule encountered Millicent at Cherry Hills Country Club where he was attending as the GUEST of a Sports Legend...and her daddy was of course a MEMER. Cherry Hills has one of the most renowned golf courses in Colorado, although Mule had only been invited for lunch. For a club, that likely had annual membership dues that could buy you a new Maserati, Mule had to admit the food was second rate, confirming Mule's experience that most rich people are NOT all that smart.

After lunch with the sports legend, Mule's boss and THE LEGEND left to go play golf, to which Mule was particularly NOT invited. Mule's boss had learned that his style of play lacked a certain finesse (amazing, am I right?). What that means was Mule liked to hit the ball long and hard, regardless of the situation. ut readers of this blog already know that Mule likes to play long and hard.

So there Mule was at the bar enjoying a beer...they had all sorts of imported shit, at prices that would feed a family of four in the third world for a month. Mule looked in his wallet, gulped and ordered a Coors on Draft...The look the faggot bartender gave him changed from lust to disgust. Mule thought maybe the irate bartender would sound one of those lunk klaxons they have at Planet Fitness, only here it would be a peasant alarm, sounded when vulgarian interlopers penetrated their sanctum sanctorum.

Speaking of penetration of sanctum sanctorums, as Mule waited for SECURITY to escort him out, he looked around for a suitable sloot to buy him the next round, as that was the priciest Coors he had ever bought. Mule spotted a likely blonde sloot down a few stools, who was eyeballing him like a fat kid eyeballs cake; and with no security in sight, Mule laid on her one of his classiest and surefire lines:

"Sup"

She waited for Mule to approach and start sniffing, like all the betas that frequented the club did, but the blond hunk just turned back to his beer and waited for her to come to HIM. It works every time, and it wasn't long before Millicent was sidling up to his muscular frame.

"uy a lady, a drink?" she said flirtatiously

"No, but I will let you buy ME one..." Mule replied instead of the "What are you having?" that she expected. Now while many of you would expect her to just get up and leave in a huff... just remember that you are you, and Mule is Mule.

She turned to the bartender and with a haughty wave said: "I will have a Vodka Martini, with elvedere not Stolichnaya, with a twist of lime, shaken not stirred, and give this gentleman another of whatever he is having...put it on MY tab..."

The bartender nodded and said with a smile: "One James ond with a twist, for the lovely Miss Hale and," with a sneer, "...another draft of swill for the Neanderthal."

Mule was contemplating CLUING the artender with his big caveman fist for the Neanderthal remark, when the sloot held out her hand,palm down, by way of introduction...

"Millicent Hale.."

Now a classy gentleman would have kissed her hand like she wanted, but Mule just engulfed her dainty hand in his big paw with a shake and grunted...

"Mule..." She frowned at being given a nickname, no surname with a distinguished pedigree and a number after it.

"That is a barnyard animal, not a name!" she retorted.

"Well I can be quite the animal when it counts..." Mule said with a wink. Millicent feigned offense but was intrigued.

As Mule finished the beer he ordered, and then the one from Millicent, and then the one after, Millicent chattered on and Mule pretended to listen.

With the beers finished, Mule decided to get down to business. "You wanna fuck?"

Direct, but effective....

Mule left Millicent sprawled across the table of the private room soaked in his jizz. "Call Me" she said hoarsely. Her throat, pussy and anus rubbed raw from the greatest fucking she had ever known. She had thought she was experienced in sex, until Mule had demonstrated to her what sex was ACTUALLY SUPPOSED TO E LIKE. He dressed back into his Sunday est (Club has a dress code, OF COURSE) while Millicent writhed in ecstasy on the table.

" Later babes" he said with a casual indifference, already amnesiac about the name of the sloot he had just fucked. He headed for the showers. Now the showers and locker room at Cherry Hills were NOTHING like the facilities you would find at Overland Park run by Denver Parks and Recreation. The locker room (if it could be properly even called that) was furnished with leather sofas and big screen t.v.'s and had a salad and fruit bar with silver covered serving trades, as well as silver chafing dishes serving other select morsels. Old wrinkled dinosaurs seemed to hang out there in this locker CHAMER, naked all day, avoiding wives and children, exchanging anecdotes about life during the Eisenhower administration. Needless to say, Mule never SAT on those leather couches even when there were no geezers about.

Hey you, you look like a fine. strapping lad,
do you work here?

There were even attendants for the showers, handing you towels when you were done, and helping the old geezers dress!

Mule showered, dressed and grabbed some snacks, ignoring the naked old man who always thought he worked there, even though he was clearly NOT wearing the 'livery' of the staff flunkies. Mule exited the socialite menagerie: where the one-percenters lazed, accommodated like placid zoo animals, with the accoutrements of their native habitats; and hopped in his jeep and sped off to more familiar and agreeable environs.

Mule had never expected to see the Trust Fund Slut again, but fate has a strange way of throwing you left curves to the jaw. Here he was minding his own business at this Charity Gala thrown by his oss's wife for orphaned Syrian children.... when all of a sudden, THERE she was.....What's-Her-Name!

When the TFS finally wormed her way over to him despite his crafty dodges and zig-zags she hissed:

"You never called, you never responded to my texts!"

"Sorry, Toots, I lost my phone with your contact information, completely unavoidable." The Truth was that he had given her his buddy Cat-rah's number.

ut given that Millicent had not had a good fucking like she had at the club and was hungering for Mule's fuckpole, she forgave him. You know what they say:
"Once you go Mule...."

Needless to say they were soon fucking in a backroom, and he gave her the standard Mule quartet of lazy doggy, reverse cowgirl, anal full nelson and flying dutchman. Millicent was a nimble little minx, got to give her that!

So afterwards they exchanged contact info, in that she gave Mule her number and he gave her the number for Cosmo's Pizza in oulder and said it was his number. Now if she was smart, she would have checked to see if the number worked with a text, there and then, but she was vain and blond and so she didn't.

One week later...

Millicent was infuriated that she had been used and tossed aside AGAIN, by this....this... INSUFFERALE PEASANT... (not an entirely accurate description of a scion of a distinguished Louisiana family-- however coarse his manner might seem-- it was the product of an atavistic nature and not ill-breeding) Fuming a FATAL ATTRACTION level of fury, Millicent decided she would hire a private detective to track Mule down, and then dispatch some of the executive security goons on retainer to her uncle for 'special projects' to teach this arrogant cur a lesson.

One week still later....

Having completely forgotten about Trust Fund Slut, Mule was out on the town at one of his favorite sloot-hunting locations...

The sloots here were open for business too!

It didn't take long for Mule to reel one in....

You respect me as a person, right Mule?

Sure, babe-- Mule said not knowing what he just agreed to
and trying to remember the sloot's name.

Good, now we can fuck!--Said what's her face.

ut before Mule could put his usual plan into operation, he found himself in the grip of two goons and facing the biggest m/fucker he had ever seen...and his designated sloot had skedaddled. Holy cockblock, atman!

We've been looking for you!

I am guessing this is not a Publisher Clearinghouse sort of deal
'cuz I don't see a giant check...

At first Mule thought the two dudes holding his arms were bouncers from the Club. ut Mule knew all the bouncers and he didn't know these dudes.

WTF is this about....?

We are here to deliver a message!

You're about to get fucked up, Mule...

"WTF is this about....?" Mule asks as he struggles with the two big men holding his arms.

You messed with the wrong girl, asshole!

"We are here to deliver a message! You're about to get fucked up, Mule..." one of the dudes tells him. "You messed with the wrong girl, asshole!"

How? What? When? A thousand questions race through Mule's mind

"Shit man, I thought that sloot was single....she came on to me... " Mule tried to explain...

"It ain't nothing like that, you dumbass meathead.... It's business... we're on the clock, getting paid to make sure you get a beat down...." one of the Dudes holding his arms says.

The odds suck, but Mule had no real choice here, “So it’s three on one?”

"Nah, Mule. We are just here to make sure you don't run away. Maksim is the one that's gonna be kicking your musclebound ass tonight..." nodding towards the huge Russian looking beast in front of Mule. "How do these guy's know my name?"-- Mule wondered.

Maksim is the one that's gonna be kicking your
musclebound ass tonight..

This guy’s arms were bigger than mine
and his chest was freaking huge!

This guy looked like he had been raised in the gym!

How do these guy's know my name?

Maksim is a big guy, taller than me and heavier too. He was 6'6'' and over 300 lbs. "This guy’s arms were bigger than mine and his chest was freaking huge!" --Mule noted nervously.

Maksim had the build of a bodybuilder. This guy looked like he had been raised in the gym! ut Your Mule has fought more than his share of big, strong guys and knows how to take these dudes down. ut even Mule was feeling his asshole pucker at the sight of all this muscle preparing to face off with him.

Mule has fought more than his share of big, strong guys
and knows how to take these dudes down

Mule was feeling his asshole pucker at the sight of all this
muscle preparing to face off with him

I guess Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
--Thought Mule

Cuz, Maksim sure looks like the personification of Fury

I hope your insurance has good major medical, Mule!
--said goon #2

I don't suppose this is open to negotiation?

I mean you look like a reasonable guy, Maksim--Mule offered
as he gawked at Maksim's 24" biceps

ut pulverizing Amerikos is FUN for me!
--he said in a thick Russian accent

I especially like when you Pindos start screaming like women!
"No, stop, please"...so much fun to hear you bleat
like spring lambs at culling!

Maksim slowly moved toward Mule with his fists up as the blond American began to dance around and loosen up. His head tucked down and eyes up, the muscular Russian took on the look of a dangerous fighter, his form more resembled that of an Armata T-14 tank fashioned out of solid muscle. Mule moved around him taking his time. "This guy doesn’t know he’s in against a trained boxer and MMA fighter. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, wait, yes it will!" thought Mule.

One can only imagine what those big arms could do to a man if Maksim ever got Mule him locked up and the blond was set to do his best to make sure that doesn’t happen to him! The mighty Russian unloaded one of his massive guns Mule's way; and the American easily ducked under his punch and delivered his own solid right to his side. Mule was sure he didn’t do much damage, but Maksim confirmed this by following up with an elbow to the American's chest. Mule wouldn't have thought the big man could move that fast. efore this Russian FLASH could get set again, Mule delivered a solid kick to the Sergei's block-wall abs only to discover that those muscles were even harder and stronger than they looked, and that was considerable.

Unhurt and with both massive fists loaded for bear the muscle machine closed in again. It was early in the fight, but Mule wanted to make sure the big bodybuilder knew enough to stay away from him; so as the Russian behemoth came in, Mule caught Maksim with a solid right upside the head, and as the Russian behemoth leaned back to deprive the blond of a target, Mule slammed a hard left jab to the center of the orscht muscleman’s face. Mule could see his opponent's eyes glaze over for a few seconds as Maksim peddled back out of range, a trickle of blood flowing from his smashed nose. His guard up, the big man peered between his readied fists, his tongue licking the crimson liquid. As his bearings returned, Maksim tasted blood, HIS blood. The massive Russian’s coal black eyes began to twinkle as he began to smile. Not the reaction Mule was expecting!

As the Slavic juggernaut moved forward, the muscleman spoke in his deep Russian accent, “Nice punch, Hot Shot. I’ve got many surprise for you too! Have fun now, because soon I crush your muscle-bound pretty-boy body until no can breathe! They gonna carry, little what left of you, out of here with trash in morning!”

Mule could see how this muscular stud could really hurt a man and certainly didn’t intend to give him a chance to fulfill his dreams. The blond muscleman had dropped bigger men than Maksim and Mule was convinced he would finish this man also, if he was dumb enough to get in range again...and he looked pretty dumb!

Maksim flexed his powerful upper body as he carefully closed in. Mule knew his hard-muscled physique intimidated the hell out of any man who dared to fight him and this big bodybuilder would be no different. He already knew Mule could hurt him, so orn in the USA, simply needed to show the Russian bear, just how much!

Once again the powerful Russian unloaded with his massive right fist, his muscular body twisted toward Mule. The blond had more than enough time to duck under the Ruskie's big arm, sweeping his legs and dropping the he-man to the alley floor. The Russian was far more agile than Mule expected such a big man to be, and as he gained his footing and began to stand, the big ratva stud delivered a full-force right fist between the American's legs!

Shit! Mule heard his own screams bouncing off the walls as his hands dropped instinctively to protect what was left of his battered nuts! The American could no longer control the muscles in his body as his knees buckled while the Slavic muscleman delivered an equally devastating left fist, dead on target. Mule dropped to the floor like a sack of wheat, unable to breathe, unable to think about ANYTHING but agony.

Mule could hear the other two security goons cheering for his Cossack opponent. They loved seeing the blond get his ass kicked! The American thoroughbred was barely aware of his surroundings as Maksim grabbed Mule's head with one massive hand and gripped his aching crotch with the other. The mighty he-man closed his left fist crushing Mule's aching balls as he easily lifted the American's helpless physique above his head parading his screaming opponent around the alley. It must have been an impressive sight with all his massive bodybuilder muscles flexed while holding Mule's damaged hard-muscled body over-head! Maksim finally stopped in the middle of the alley and Mule didn’t have to wait to find out why.

In one smooth easy motion, the he-man twisted Mule's big body down directing the American's back across his outstretched Russian knee! The shock and pain would have exceeded the agony of Mule's broken down balls if it were not for the fact that the big man’s death grip crushed down even tighter, while his big right hand moved to his opponent's neck pressing Mule's powerful body down into the painful hold even harder. His grip across the blond's neck made it nearly impossible to breathe but Mule had much greater worries at the time.

Maksim held the American in his torturous hold for what seemed forever, while Mule could only squirm in complete agony. Totally as a reflex action, the blond bomber pounded the Steppe stud’s massive arm and shoulder muscles but another flex sent Mule arching backwards screaming in pain. The American desperately tried to breathe in reflex action but only short screams came out.

“AAAAGGHHHH! AARGGGGH! UUUUUGGHH!” Mule was sure his spine would splinter at any moment and was reasonably positive his balls would never work again! Once again the big Russian spoke, his voice booming!

“Some big tough fighter! You flex pretty-boy muscles and think you’re gonna scare Maksim out of fighting you? et you not so much think this now. Maksim just gonna learn how fucking tough you ARE!”

Maksim gripped both hands again and Mule thought his life was over. Showing off the power in his massive bodybuilder muscles the mighty Russian lifted Mule's 260 pound frame like it was nothing, and then stood for a moment before smashing Mule's helpless body to the hard pavement. The impact nearly finished Mule off. While his battered body arched in distress the Russian he-man stomped his heel into Mule's gut. Mule always trained his abdominals hard, and it is rare that any man has been able to punch or kick him hard enough to make much of a dent, but this night was different. Fighting Maksim was like fighting the Incredible Hulk and Mule was a puny Muscle god indeed!

Mule's entire body was racked with pain and his prize abdominals were providing very little protection. Mule lost count of how many times Maksim's foot smashed into his gut but he knew his picture perfect washboard abs gave way after the first few stomps. Every blow after that felt like it penetrated clear to Mule's spine!

The American struggled to rise but his muscular body could no longer move. Every muscle strained merely to survive! Mule knew he had to get back in this fight but as he tried to bend up he found his abdominals were completely destroyed! The pain from his broken balls radiated through his body robbing the American of any remaining strength or will to continue!

The Russian bodybuilder laughed at the total destruction of the blond muscleman at his feet while the other two bouncers cheered as he walked around flexing his massive muscles. The muscleman walked in a circle around Mule's helpless body while he admired the destruction his muscles had caused to his American foe.

The big man gripped Mule's feet pulling the blond's powerful legs high in the air. Maksim smashed his big right foot between Mule's legs. The American's body would no longer react as Mule bounced partially forward before collapsing back to the alley floor. Mule became painfully aware that the massive muscleman was not done with him yet!

In a clear demonstration that the man’s massive muscles were not just for fist fighting, Maksim spun around Mule's tangled legs securing a figure four leg lock. Flexing his massive rock-solid leg muscles caused blinding pain before the hold was even locked down. Mule screamed helplessly! Maksim laughed joyfully. With no defense Mule could only pound the ground with his fists. Nothing Mule could do would diminish the overwhelming pain. He knew beyond any doubt that his legs would shatter at any moment. The big Russian grinned in delight at the muscular fighter in his grip, begging and pleading and screaming for release. It was only after the American's throat was raw that he relented and released his killer grip.

Mule lay there helpless, totally defeated at the hands of the massive bodybuilder. The blond American couldn’t move. Exhausted, he was only relieved that the beating was over. It had been a long time since he had lost such an alley brawl, he had thought of street fights as kind of his forte, and wasn’t so sure now. His body, his will, his resistance, his very can-do American spirit, lay shattered and broken on the ground. Somewhere a bald eagle cried.

The big Russian bear wrapped one big callused hand around Mule's neck and easily lifted his broken body from the ground as he would one of the gigantic barbells he pressed thousands of times in the gym.

Maksim spun Mule around pressing the American's back to his rock-solid Russian chest with such force it felt as though Mule had hit a brick wall! The big man’s left arm slid under Mule's as he released his right hand from the front of the blond's neck and secured it solidly behind Mule's head with both hands now pressing forward. Mule could not have resisted this Drago's powerful Full-Nelson even if he had been completely rested. This Sputnik’s muscles felt like they were crafted from case-hardened steel and as they flexed they grew and grew while Mule's lean-hard muscled frame could only bend in painful compliance. Maksim laughed in the American's ear as he lifted Mule's defeated body from the ground, “Now I CRUSH you, Tough Guy!”

Mule tried desperately to submit, to beg, to plead to do ANYTHING to make the Vodka imbiber stop. but nothing worked. Mule tried to flex his own considerable weight-trained shoulder and chest muscles but was overcome in the face of the Ivan's total conquering POWER! Mule's agonized body was forced to press harder and harder against the thick wall of steel-like unyielding human muscle while the blond's total destruction took place!!!

The powerful Russian must have fought many fights before. as he knew exactly how far he could take a man and still keep him conscious. Just as Mule was about to drift off, Maksim released the American from his crushing hold allowing Mule to crumple to his ass on the ground before him. Mule felt the thick muscle of Maksim's flexed thigh as it pressed into the American's back through the abrasive fabric of his jeans.

“You don’t fight worth SHIT little man!” he scoffed in Mule's ear. With that the big stud wrapped one massively muscled arm around Mule's neck while the other secured his head. The blond was being smothered in a cocoon of solid muscle, but it would only be a second before those muscles began to flex and grow. Mule could feel the bodybuilder’s massive frame as he laughed at his helpless opponent's plight while his rock-solid muscles crushed relentlessly against Mule's neck and head. There was no fight left in Mule as his entire world began to slow just before his conscious existence yielded to darkness. As all faded to black, Mule heard Goon #3 say: "Miss Hale sends her regards."

The one-sided beatdown was over.

Russia: 1 USA: 0

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