Mulezan Part IV: Be Careful What You Wish For...

Continued from Mulezan Part Three: Mulezan vs. the Evil Hunter

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Be Careful What You Wish For... 

(you might get it) -- old Klingon proverb 

Story by Mule, Art by Steve,edits by Stefan

Without Mulezan to control the tribes  everything is going to shit for the Commandant. The various tribes for the first time in a generation are warring with each other. They are also in full rebellion against the Belgian colonial government. Frequent ambushes have depleted the Force Publique.   The production of the diamond mines and rubber plantations have ground to a halt, which has drawn the attention of the Belgium bureaucrats administering the King's private colony,  and even the concern of the King himself.  The Colonial authorities brought in additional troops to guard the mines and plantations, with disastrous results. 

Although it was well recognized that the situation was the result of the fuck-up by the Commissioner, Léon Fiévez was allowed to avoid blame due solely to his being married to a distant, fat and ugly cousin of the Queen. So royal politics came into play and the  Vice-gouverneur général in Boma was instructed to find another scapegoat. He placed the blame  on the local sector Commandant for the collapse of order in the sector that included the Ukotho.   The Commandant was removed from office, ordered to return to Belgium in disgrace, and was replaced as Commandant of the Sector by Major De Paard,  former commander of the Force Publique. Major De Paard was authorized to do whatever he needed to do to restore order. 

Without Mulezan to control the tribes ambushes have become
 commonplace

The Colonial authority brought in additional troops to try to
 restore order...

...with disastrous results

The events in the Colony are so dire that they have drawn the
 attention of King Leopold who wants to make his Congo
 great again!

Reluctantly, the Commandant realizes it will take Mulezan to
 restore order

The Hunter has gone bat shit crazy since defeating Mulezan. Jacob van Rijswijck has delusions of grandeur and is on a power trip. He has declared himself the New King of The Jungle. The animals don't recognize this interloper who doesn't even speak their languages as King, so wild animal attacks against people are becoming common again for the first time in many years.  The absent Mulezan has hidden deep in the jungle, recovering from his injuries and being tended to by Jane and Bondeko.

The Commandant forms an alliance with Mpeke, a mighty warrior once defeated by the Ivory King. Feeling the need for additional protection given the rampant violence that has overtaken the District, Mpeke is made the Commandant's personal bodyguard.

Mpeke

Mpeke passes his interview for the job of the Commandant's personal bodyguard with flying colors. We won't speak of some of the indignities of that process, the Major had been well known among the native levees of the Force Publique for his carnal appetites, and not just for native women. The Commandant personally undertakes Mpeke's enhanced training.

The Commandant personally undertakes Mpeke's enhanced training

People could not help, but stare at Mpeke, usually
 with lust and longing...

Mpeke was a vision to behold, both for his beauty,
 physique and the strength those muscles provided!

Sacré bleu! That anvil weighs 400 pounds!

Mpeke's strength was LEGENDARY among the Lemoftu,
 only the Ivory King had been more formidable, and his power
was augmented by sorcery!

The Commandant found himself lusting for the beauty and

 power of Mpeke, but this had not been the first time he had

 harbored lascivious thoughts for his subordinate

Damn that darkie Mpeke looked delicious, 
thought De Paard

Let's see just how strong those abs are....

Don't flinch

You did well with the anvil, let us see how you fare with the
 hammer!

Mpeke looked like a black Thor with
that hammer!

Meanwhile, the Hunter is doing some training of his own...

The Hunter planned to be the ONLY viable power in the area, so that anybody  who wanted to control the area, had to deal with HIM, he heard De Paard was training a private goon squad including a powerful Lemoftu warrior named Mpeke.  The Hunter was training some Lemoftu of his own, but they were all scared SHITLESS of Mpeke, so he reassured them. 

Now, boys, I want you to hit me hard. I hear you fear the
  Major’s new big lug, Mpeke. I’ll take care of him but I need
you to handle any other muscle De Paard's got around….

"Remember the key to operations is secrecy and discretion, we cannot go up against De Paard directly,  we must discredit his ability to control the sector, so that the Commissioner has no other option, but to deal with ME if he wants to maintain order and control over the area..."

"But not even you have managed to control the Ukotho, bwana!"

"Your next training exercise is to beat the SHIT out of THAT ONE, until he and the rest of you learn to keep your worthless bosneger opinions to yourselves!"

And if you’ve been spending your time screwing instead of 
training, I’m gonna kick your asses….

Meanwhile....

Mpeke proves to be very adept in executing his new duties.

Mpeke, the new personal bodyguard to the Commandant, fantasizes about taking on the Hunter and proving to all that he is the mightiest warrior in all the Jungle.

Mpeke's fantasy:

In his Fantasy, Mpeke sees
himself meeting the Hunter in
glorious single combat

So you are the famous van Rijswijck... 
Mpeke says in his dreams,
I look forward to testing my strength against yours...

Yes!  I knew I was the strongest... or so it always goes in 
Mpeke's dream

You were even easier to take down than I expected....

How about we play a little before I kill you....?

  
Mpeke's fantasies always ended in that sort of vein.

Mpeke is certainly a superior physical specimen, on a level with Mulezan himself.  But while the Commandant appreciates the enthusiasm his young personal bodyguard shows in his willingness to take on Jacob van Rijswijck,  the Commandant realizes that the ebony Hercules is about as bright as the iron anvil he has taken to carrying around, or at least that is what Mpeke wants the arrogant Belgian to think, lest he see him as a threat.

Eliminating the Hunter and bringing the tribes back under control is going to take more than just brute strength, which Mpeke has in spades.  It will take someone with brute strength, with animal cunning, and the strategic thinking of a born leader.   Reluctantly, the Commandant realizes it will take Mulezan to restore order and the status quo. 

The Commandant requests a meeting with Mulezan. Mulezan sends word that he will meet with the Commandant at one of the barns that the Force Publique have at one of their posts at the perimeter of the jungles of the Ukotho two days hence.  

The Commandant wakes up early on the appointed day for his meeting with Mulezan.  He comes down from the sleeping loft not yet dressed and not yet fully awake. The hayloft at this barn is a far cry from his comfortable quarters back at the garrison and he has not slept soundly.  He walks slowly, stretching and yawning, his muscles flexing and bulging, giving a view of his astounding physique.  He finds that Mpeke is already up and caring for the horses.

...down from the sleeping loft not yet dressed 

Mpeke is already up and caring for the horses

Commandant was met with the sight of that magnificent muscled ass which had been on his To-do list ever since the young, black muscleman had applied to work in the unit. Commandant  De Paard knew it was strictly against regulations to fraternize with the natives, especially the male ones, but every time he saw that ass he didn’t doubt that it would be worth the risk. De Paard wondered whether he himself had the stamina to take him on. The prospect of putting his manhood on the line made him go slightly light-headed and his dick bounce. He stretched and flexed.

...not yet fully awake  he  stretches and yawns

As the Commandant stretches, his muscles flex and
 bulge, giving Mpeke a rare full view of his astounding 
physique

I have never seen the Commandant out of uniform before....

Man, the Commandant sure is one fine looking white man....

As for Mpeke, he knew the Commandant was watching him as he brushed his horse, flexing his muscles deliberately as he did so, particularly his fabled glutes.

Mpeke was ambitious. He was also intrigued by the thought of taking on this white man in a power fuck. True, he was a little older than Mpeke usually liked but the Commandant had an incredible body. He was also turned on by the thought of doing the white commander, a man who had met the King Leopold himself. But he had to choose his moment carefully or it might backfire.

Perhaps we should train a different muscle of
 yours, today Mpeke!

Mpeke sensed that De Paard was horny. As he continued to brush the horse, he continued to look indirectly at the Major to make sure the Major was watching. Mpeke then moved round to the front of the horse and pretended to inspect its foot, giving the Commandant a full-on view of his magnificent ass.

Damn...I don't know whose got the bigger ass, Mpeke or the horse...

"Damn, Mpeke is built like a stud stallion, both fore and aft.” thought the Commandant as he starred at his hard muscled bubble-butt. The former, of course, went without saying, even for a native Mpeke had an impressively big black cock.

Seems like the boss-man is checking me out... I better make sure
 I put on a good show for him!

Mpeke dropped the horse’s foot and began to climb the ladder to the loft obstinately to fetch a different brush, but in reality to give the Commandant the chance to watch with lust at the absolute fucking beauty of Mpeke's muscled ass flexing with each step as he climbed the ladder.

Be right back, boss-man,  I need to get the
 other brush from the loft

Yeah... that's right boss-man, check out my big muscled glutes
flexing as I climb this ladder.... 

I can feel his fucking eyes drilling a whole in my ass...
he wants it bad...my muscle butt is my job security 

Yeahhhhh... check out my rear glute spread, boss-man ... I know
 you will be spanking the monkey to that view later...you should
 take a picture for your spank bank, it lasts longer

The Commandant had fallen right into the trap and was now staring at Mpeke's muscular ass, his mouth dropping a little as Mpeke deliberate flexed it, the bubble of each bulge of muscle rising and falling with each step as he climbed.

Finish up with the horses, Mpeke, while I get dressed
I need you ready and at your best for the meeting with Mulezan!

Mulezan arrives for the Meeting...

Mulezan, seems recovered from his Hunter-inflicted injuries

"I realize we have had our differences in the past...."

"WTF?  You offered to pay a bounty to anyone who brought you my head... that's a little more than having differences, dude..."

"Well, I for one am willing to let bygones be bygones.  There is no point in dwelling on the past.   Are you familiar with the Belgian expression,  L'ennemi de mon ennemi est mon ami (the enemy of my enemy is my friend)?"

"Fuck that shit.... you weren't the one that got the fucking crap beat out of him...."

Mulezan, I realize we have had our differences in the past....

Dude, you hired someone to kill me.... in my book that's a little
 more than having some differences....

Mulezan  spent weeks hidden in the deepest Jungle recovering from the injuries and indignities inflicted upon him by the Mighty Hunter. Mulezan has no desire to cross paths with the Hunter again. He has no taste for getting involved with the white men's politics and power games.

The discussion breaks down...

"Fuck you..."

"No, Fuck you.."

An angry Mulezan steps closer to the Commandant only to be blocked by Mpeke, the bodyguard.

"De Paard, tell your goon to move his hand or I'll kick his muscled black ass......" Mulezan snarls with a growl.

De Paard, tell your goon to move his hand or I'll kick his 
muscled black ass...... Mulezan snarls

But Mpeke shows why he was chosen to be the Commandant's personal bodyguard.  No one gets past him.....

Mpeke seizes Mulezan's hand and bends his wrist back,
 almost breaking it

I am not one of those weakling Watu Wakweli natives you are
 used to, I am a Lemoftu warrior!

Test of strength, Mulezan?   My grip versus yours....

I think I hear the bones in your hand breaking, big man...

~You're crushing my fucking hand.....

Let's see you dance for the boss-man, Mulezan....

~Fuck....OK, OK you're breakin' my fucking wrist... lemme go...

I'm not letting go... not yet....I need to show the boss-man what I can do...

That's right, scream like a bitch ....

While I rip your fucking pec off your chest...make sure the boss-
man hears you scream!

Mpeke  shows his power by scooping the massive Mulezan off his feet.  He easily lifted Mulezan and held him against his rock-solid chest.   The massive muscles of Mpeke flexed as he  paraded his helpless opponent around the floor, showing off for the Commandant.  The mighty black he-man finally stopped in the middle of the floor.   No one had  to wait to find out why. In one smooth easy motion, the he-man twisted Mulezan's big body down directing Mulezan's back across his outstretched knee!   "UUUUUMPH" is the only sound from the big stud, but enough to let the Commandant  know that Mpeke is on the right track. Mulezan's handsome face reflects the damage being done. "What's the matter, Mulezan? Did that hurt?" the Commandant shouts, and then laughs as the muscular young warrior begins to stand and in doing so, lifts Mulezan at the same time.

Mpeke swung Mulezan up like a sack of sorghum flour.

and then power slammed Mulezan's back across his outstretched knee!

Showing off the power in his massive  muscles the mighty native warrior  lifted Mulezan's  260 pound thickly muscled frame back to chest level once again, and then stood for a moment before smashing Mulezan's heavy body face first to the hard dirt floor with such force that it sent  a shudder through the earth; KA-BOOM!

Mpeke lifts a battered Mulezan back to chest level again

Showing off his power, Mpeke circles the barn floor carrying a
 helpless Mulezan across his chest

beads of sweat pour off Mulezan's horizontal golden body 
onto the dirt of the barn floor

With a cruel smile, Mpeke power slams  his opponent face
 first  to the ground with such force that it sent a shudder
 through the earth

Before Mulezan can press up, Mpeke is on his back locking up Mulezan's wrist and ankle.

De Paard had another secret weapon, Marguerite, a special forces sloot from the 21st century who had introduced camouflage pants and an array of hand to hand combat techniques to De Paard and his minions. Marguerite, the daughter of an eccentric Flemish physicist, Prof Emil Bruin, is stranded in a world without plutonium for her flux capacitor; she has modified it to use uranium salts. In return for her help, De Paard sends a stream of labor to work a uranium salt mine she has established. What she wants of this worthless material, and why the miners seem to die of strange maladies is none of his concern. She did have him send some samples to a Henri Becquerel in France saying in a few months it will produce GREAT THINGS.

De Paard had another secret weapon, Marguerite, a special 
forces sloot who trained his men like Mpeke in Braziliaan
 ju-jitsu! 

Before Mulezan can press up, Mpeke is on his back locking up Mulezan's wrist and ankle.

In a clear demonstration that Mpeke's massive muscles were made for  fighting, Mpeke spun around Mulezan's tangled legs securing a leg lock. Flexing his massive rock-solid leg muscles caused blinding pain before the hold was even locked down.  With no defense Mulezan could only pound the floor with his fist. Nothing he  could do would diminish the overwhelming pain to his ankle and wrist.  The Commandant  grinned in delight at  the site of Mulezan locked in the grip of his muscular fighter,

and they call YOU, King of the Jungle, HA!

Are these pathetic feminine cries, the famous Mulezan
 yell? It sounds more like a woman's fearful shrieks!

It looks like we have a winner.....!

You beat him, Mpeke...now break Mulezan's leg...don't just 
break it, cripple him for life

I chose well in Mpeke, Massive Muscles and a vicious streak... 

Mpeke is a split second from destroying Mulezan's
 knee with his hammer and anvil when the 
Commandant orders him to stop

Mpeke gets the initial advantage over Mulezan, and lays Mulezan out.  Mpeke is about to break Mulezan's knee  into a thousand pieces with his hammer but the Commandant stops him just in the nick of time.  The Commandant needs Mulezan to defeat the Hunter.  "That's enough, Mpeke.  Let  Mulezan up." orders the Commandant.  

"Ready to resume our discussion now, Mulezan? With a more open mind this time?"

Ready to resume our discussion now, Mulezan? With a more
open mind this time?

Mpeke has taken the fight out of Mulezan, and discussions between Muleszan and the Commandant resume, this time, in private.  But Mpeke stays close by, watching  like a faithful watchdog, in case his master  needs him again.  But Mpeke was not a true flunky, sidling up to De Paard was just a means to an end.  He had ambitions to becoming the new King of the Jungle.

Mpeke, the immensely powerful but naive muscleman has only ever been beaten once - by Mandugu, the Ivory King, who has disappeared after being defeated by Mulezan. Mpeke had only been 18 years old at the time he had impetuously challenged Mandugu. Now Mpeke was 3 years older, a grown man, not a youth. 

 To Mpeke's way of thinking, since he has just shown the Commandant that he can easily handle Mulezan, that the Commandant should chose him to go after Jacob van Rijswijck.  He would be the new Ivory King and unlike the old, would rule over both Lemoftuland and the Ukotho Valley.  But the Commandant still won’t let him have a crack at the Hunter.  Mpeke can't understand why, but he is working on De Paard, Mpeke knows with his looks and body, he can be most PERSUASIVE.

What Mpeke doesn't know is that the Commandant 'knows' that while Mpeke is a mighty warrior and seductively sexy, in the mind of the Commandant, Mpeke still is just a 'stupid black savage'. Another black man in a position of power is unthinkable.  While the Belgians, because of their limited resources, have made extensive use of pliable tribal leaders those days are fading. The Belgium high command wants it plain to the Congolese that  WHITE IS MIGHT, and so Boma wants Mulezan back. They would rather have the white devil they know back in charge and the old status quo restored.  

 That night they share the hayloft for the first time  as the Commandant tells the crestfallen Mpeke that he will not be the one going to challenge the Hunter in combat.  "I have my reasons... not the least of which I could not stand it if anything would happen to that gorgeous body of yours. I've waited too long ... this is even better than I imagined it would be.   You have nothing to prove to me, I know you are a man who is always on top, never gets beaten, and never submits...well, at least until tonight " the Commandant whispers  in the dark between sessions of  passionate fucking.

After a few endless minutes, the Commandant slowly eased out of Mpeke's wet hole and flopped over onto his back. A muscled arm slid around Mpeke's waist, pulling him into a loose embrace, sweat cooling on their bodies. They lay like that for a long time.

The Commandant let out a sigh of immense satisfaction. "Man, this was great" the Commandant told Mpeke. "You've got the greatest ass I've not only ever seen, but ever fucked. Better than any pussy I've ever had. But when you fucked me after I finished with you, I hate to admit it, but I enjoyed that even more."

With a deep chuckle the Commandant gathered Mpeke closer, intertwining their legs, the two men rubbing themselves on naked skin with simple enjoyment at the contact. "I know a good fuck when I get one, and you did me real good. You were fucking your cock inside me like some goddamn stud bull!" --the commandant mused not seeing the irony of relishing being topped by a native. 

"And I've never had a pussy as hot as your eager asshole. Are you sure it was the first time for you bottoming? Screwing your hot, tight, beautiful white ass was the best sex I've ever had in my life."--the clever Mpeke lied.

"I've never had a man up me before, but I enjoyed having you fuck me. I never thought that it would feel so good to be topped. I guess if any man is going to fuck me, you're the right man to do it. But I think I prefer you to be the one on bottom screaming for more. But we're going to have plenty of opportunity to review that 'position'. When we get back to the barracks, I want you to move your stuff into my room." the Commandant ordered.

Mpeke felt the Commandant 's cock getting stiff again.

That night, Mpeke learns that he won't be the one sent to fight the Hunter

I could not stand it if anything would happen to that gorgeous
body of yours

So, the disappointed Mpeke disobeys the Commandant and sets out to eliminate the Hunter, himself.  He thinks the Commandant will then allow him to  become the new King of the Jungle himself.  A black King of the Jungle!  Mpeke will prove himself worthy.  Better to ask forgiveness than permission, and with some sexsuasion, he will soon have the Commandant BEGGING to be allowed to forgive him.  "It won't be long before the Commandant is my flunky and calling ME,the new Ivory King, bwana..." Mpeke muses.

Mpeke tracks down the Hunter

He stealthily approaches the Hunter!

The element of surprise is key, if he is not going to get himself
 shot down by The Hunter

His timing must be perfect, he must wait for an opportunity!

Perfect, with the Hunter thus preoccupied, Mpeke must strike
 like the serpent!

Mpeke grabs the rifle, knocking the Belgian down with the butt of the gun, while the sloot runs off naked into the jungle terrified. The honorable Lemoftu warrior allows the Hunter to regain his feet. but Mpeke throws the rifle away, and it flies off into some quicksand. Now the fight will be a man to man struggle. Muscle warfare, hand to hand, no weapons, just their bare huge muscular strong manly hands!

The big black bruiser, now that the Hunter has been denied use of his rifle, stands defiantly facing the Hunter. Tall, hugely built, impossibly handsome. A perfect specimen of the native Congolese.  Self-assurance and confidence oozed out of every pore, accentuated by glistening sweat off Mpeke's formidable square-set chest. Cash-registers automatically chinked in the former slaver’s head Instinctively Jacob’s eyes gave him the professional once-over. In a flash, his eyes saw the muscled chest, the thickness of the shoulders, the bulging biceps and triceps, the tight ridges on that stomach, the tree-trunk legs... Automatically the starting price was set high. "Hell, the tribals of this region, seemed to breed this type, 'twas no wonder the authorities in Boma drooled so hungrily after its possession!" --the Hunter mused.

Mpeke is supremely confident, he has received special training
 by the Special Forces Sloot .

I am more than a match for you van Rijswijck, I know fighting
 arts unknown to you!

Like two untamed bulls they circled one another muscles flexing and rippling every cautious step of the way. Both titan’s massive cocks pulsated with unbridled anticipation of dominating & destroying their equally muscular adversary.

All you Spear chuckers think you are so special, and you all fall
 so readily to my fists!

Mpeke dodged an incoming shot to his mid-section and a second to his head. The Hunter's punches were coming so fast that he was barely able to avoid them. He feinted left, then landed a solid hit to the Hunter's jaw, snapping his head to the side. The Hunter retaliated with a hammering hard right kidney punch that stopped the ebony power-house in this tracks and made him howl and arch his back in pain. ‘Damn, hitting this black savage is hard on the fist.' the Hunter thought.

How you like this fist, you arrogant msungu!

Mpeke quickly switched to the Hunter's abs, the first blow caused the mountain of muscle to grunt and bend forward a bit at the waist, but Mpeke had only caught him off guard. Before the next blow could land, the Hunter tensed his abs into a solid brick wall of muscle and Mpeke's second shot at his mid-section bounced off harmlessly. Mpeke's fist into that muscled torso had felt like punching into a tree as the Hunter's rock hard gut declared it was more than ready for anything Mpeke could throw.  Mpeke's right hand and wrist was shooting pain up his right arm.  His powerful punch to the Hunter's iron ab-wall had mangled his hand and wrist.  Knuckles and fingers had been broken and his wrist was either sprained or broken also! Mpeke was now having to fight using only his left fist!   Both fighters exchanged huge roundhouse punches in a slug fest. The thick jungle air was filled with the sound of the smack of fist into flesh. The crack of punches against bone. Bawls of pain, roars of agony from both fighters as sledge hammer fists powered by massive strength connected with thick armor plated muscles. 

Then Mpeke swung up his left arm towards the Hunter's face, but the Hunter saw the fist approaching and thrust up his arm to block it, as he did he swung a bone-crushing right fist deep into Mpeke’s side hitting Mpeke's right ribs, deep and hard. Mpeke screamed as he felt his ribs crack and break as with a single punch the Hunter caved in Mpeke's rib cage!  Mpeke's eyes shut from the agonizing pain, so the didn't see as the Hunter drove a huge thunder bolt upper-cut thrust under Mpeke's chin, his huge bicep flexing hard as it hit home under Mpeke's jaw, snapping Mpeke's head back and sending the huge black muscleman staggering backwards.

The Hunter was taking the black warrior apart piece by piece.  Mpeke filled with fear as he realized how much damage his heretofore "indestructible" body had taken!  The unfamiliar emotion of fear began to fill the black fighters muscled body!

Mpeke spit out a mouthful of blood and moved quickly back towards the Hunter who still had his fists into a fighting stance. The two circled slowly, their eyes tunneled. Suddenly Mpeke threw a solid left which connected to the Hunter's cheek. The Hunter retaliated with a uppercut that stung Mpeke's chin. The brawlers threw their bodies together in a clinch, a real test of strength that saw them still standing, struggling for dominance.

The Hunter raised a knee to Mpeke's groin, doubling him over with a loud grunt, but Mpeke immediately caught the Hunter in the gut with a hard shot, that doubled over the Hunter. Mpeke started a viscous punching attack aimed at the Hunter's face, opening up a cut on his right cheek. 

With his newly learned fighting skills, Mpeke pummels
 van Rijswijck

Mpeke was famed in his warrior skills, even before his special
 training, now the formidable warrior seemed near
 unbeatable!

 Mpeke had to respect how
well the Fleming could take a punch!

..and take a punch he did, punch after punch after punch... !

The Hunter had met some tough fighters in his time, but few of the caliber of Mpeke!

No bosneger is going to get the better of ME!
--van Rijswijck snarled!

The Belgian sees an advantage and strikes...

But Mpeke retakes the initiative and inflicts more
punishing blows!

van Rijswijck knows he cannot take much more of this
 punishment!

He retakes the initiative from his Bantu bete noire and his
bedeviling bombardment of  blows

The Hunter gets a few good blows in...

Before black fists are once again raining down fierce
 destruction on his battered flesh!

Tiring of hitting his foe, Mpeke stepped back, but keeping a close eye on his bleeding opponent.

Without speaking a word both gladiators again assumed boxers stances and started circling. As if on cue both men let out guttural screams and lunged at each other, fists flying the two pummeled each other, blood flowing as a cut opened over the Hunter's eye and the gash in Mpeke's cheek deepened. Suddenly the Hunter hit Mpeke in the kidney. Mpeke retaliated by spitting in Mpeke's face. Fists flailing, Mpeke pounded on the Hunter's cut eye until the blood flowed freely. Mpeke threw punch after punch at his enemy's face and chest, until his arms were too tired to throw anymore. Both men were bleeding and breathing hard, but it was clear that the Hunter was getting the worse of it.

The air now smelled of sweat and blood. The dust and dirt on the ground now mingled with blood and sweat. The two men put their fists up. Their eyes tunneled into each others. Even though no words were spoken the hate in their eyes spoke volumes. Slowly they started circling, throwing jabs they inched closer and closer together.

Suddenly they grabbed each other in a mutual bear-hug, their massive chests straining against each other as they tried to squeeze the life out of each other. They stand there, pecs against pecs, abs against abs, and bulge against bulge. It’s only for a moment, but it’s an incredible moment. Then  Mpeke kneed the Hunter in his over-sized nuts. The ebony fighter nailed his white enemy with a vicious knee-lift to his balls, The Hunter started to double over only to meet an uppercut to his chin. Mpeke stepped away to watch his handiwork. A smirk crossed his face. Mpeke wasted little time and quickly closed with his opponent. The Hunter tried to re-establish a bear hug, but the big Nubian’s slammed the palms of his hands against the Hunter's ears. The slap made the Hunter's ears ring.  

The Hunter lost his grip and Mpeke threw three solid punches to his gut, folding the Hunter in half. Mpeke then pulled the Hunter's head up and Mpeke and threw three more solid shots shattering the Hunter's nose. With blood flowing freely from the Hunter's nose, the Hunter sank to his knees, moaning in pain.

The shocked Jacob van Rijswijck realized that he has encountered the first black muscleman in all his years in Africa who is able to beat him.

Mpeke laughs while the Hunter's face is showing fear for the first time in years. Both men's bodies show the effects of the long, grueling struggle – bruises, welts, blood and sweat-covered muscles. Each man gave and took a lot of abuse over this long struggle for dominance, but it's Mpeke that's in control now. Both men realize the fight is just about over.

Jacob grabs a handful of sand and throws it in the face of his opponent, temporarily blinding him.

"..sum tang dirty and dishonest.... evil bastard cheats" the Bantu warrior sputtered out

A couple seconds was all the Hunter needed to grab his knife. Now a savagely enraged Jacob van Rijswijck was armed, while his opponent was not!  "This man has no sense of honor, even for a white man....," thought Mpeke.  "He is no King."

van Rijswijck knows he is losing the slugfest and has to
change gears, he pulls a knife!

All's fair in love and war, you bosneger bitch!

You don't mess around with a guy from Flanders!

I grew up on the mean streets of Antwerp you bloody bosneger,
 you got nothing on me!

You picked the wrong white man to challenge!

Not so fast Mzungu! Marguerite has taught me combat moves
 that have not even been INVENTED yet!

So even with that little pig-sticker of yours, you are going
DOWN, Mzungu!

Watch as Mpeke instructs you in something called  'Luta Livre'
 from some place called Brazil!

Or since you like to play dirty, perhaps some 'Vale Tudo'

C'mon in van Rijswijck and get your ass whoopin', I have been
 waiting a long time for this!

Mpeke moves in on van Rijswijck, carefully and cautious of the knife, thoroughly prepared by his training, to disarm the Belgian and finish him off with several signature moves.

The Hunter was moving very carefully with his sharp knife in front of him, waving it to the left and to the right. With the speed of a cobra, he lunged, his knife looking for his opponent’s gut, only the prodigious reflexes of Mpeke saved him, Mpeke jumped back while the knife cut the air just one inch from his navel. The unexpected speed of an opponent he had believed had had the fight mainly beat out of him surprised Mpeke, throwing him off his game, as he forgot much of his new training.

Mpeke assumed a defensive stance with his arms and hands, while the Hunter had the knife in his right hand. The Hunter smiled, he was a true master in knife combat, even if none of his past opponents had survived to witness it. He soon began to move his arms in front of him in fluid and round movements like a snake-charmer, in a dance of death, when suddenly he attacked. In the next few seconds the two fighters moved their bodies, arms, wrists with the speed of snakes, the grace of dancers, the fury of leopards, their movements and their attacks were so fast that could be barely seen by a human eye, moving their knives from the right to the left hand, with sudden atttacks or retreats, small grunts in the supreme effort of the Hunter to kill each others, small gasps of pain as soon as with each glancing blow the knife cut Mpeke's body. Mpeke was successful in parrying the knife from any serious damage, although he received many minor cuts in the process.

When suddenly they both stopped, the Mpeke’s body was covered with blood from a dozen small cuts: with his lift index finger the Hunter captured a small drip of blood that was falling from his knife, he took it towards his mouth, he licked it, and smiled: the Belgium giant told his enemy:

"Your blood tastes good, black savage"--mocked van Rijswick's

"Who is the  true savage, the one who lives in the forest, or the one who despoils it and butchers its inhabitants?" -- spat back Mpeke

Was it all that you imagined? --mocked van Rijswijck

Where are your fancy moves NOW!  You ignorant black savage!

Looks like all that bitch taught you was HOW TO DIE!

Mpeke was still, his face unexpressive like a stone, when suddenly he coughed, spitting few drips of blood. Mpeke was loosing blood from two deep long cuts on his cheeks, one from his forehead, a deep slash that crossed all his navel from the right to the left, slashes over his pecs, various slashes and cuts over his arms, forearms, wrists,


Once more they closed. But focused on the Fleming, he doesn't notice a spot made slippery by the admixture of van Rijswijck's and his own blood, and he slips. That was all the opportunity the Hunter needed. Mpeke felt the sharp knife, the knife went inside his body up to hilt, the black warrior was paralyzed from the pain. Mpeke felt a jolt of indescribable pain as six inches of European steel plunged into his liver.

When you dance with van Rijswijck, you dance with death!

I  will feed your black carcass to the vultures for your
impudence!

...any last words, you friggin' Congolese gorilla?

With his last life force Mpeke sought to remember his training
 and fight off the Belgian!

The Hunter knows just where to place the knife to ensure a mortal wound. As he repeatedly stabs his opponent. 

Not so fast savage, we haven't quite finished our dance!

Time to say adieu bosneger,  I would like to stay and dance,
but I got a full dance card...

...places to go, more savages to kill...

His senses were being overwhelmed by the painful reality of his own fast approaching death, his eyes focused on his hated enemy, who was towering over Mpeke's body, his legs spread eagle, The African saw his adversary smiling in triumph, 

van Rijswijck admires his work!

I'd finish you off, but it is more fun to watch you die!

The Hunter watches dispassionately as his opponent bleeds out on the ground.

He sure is taking his time dying, maybe I should speed it along,
 I am growing impatient!

I'd like to say I will remember you in particular, bosneger,
 but I won't...

Now to find out who sent you, no damn bosneger would be so
 daring on his own!

The last thing Mpeke sees before he dies is the smiling Hunter standing above him triumphantly. 

King of the Jungle!

Speaking of which, I better get back to MY Jungle before the
 natives there get more restless!

How many  kills does that make now, shit, I have lost count!

Mpeke's last thought was the most absolute, devastating, abominable, deepest sense of defeat.  He heard the sound of monkeys, at first their usual gibberish, but as darkness descended over him he could understand them.  "You will be remembered for your fight against the interloper..."

The Hunter looked at the devastated carcass of his enemy: 

"I will leave his body in the desert for the buzzards to eat as a warning to others that would dare oppose me.  These savages will soon learn that there is no one in all of Africa that can defeat Jacob van Rijswijck"

The Jungle Gods looked down on poor young Mpeke. So much lay almost within his grasp, now all gone. He would have been a good steward of the Jungle, now they must find...another champion.  The gods thus took pity on Mpeke and didn't leave him for the scavengers, and if you travel to the Lemoftuland region of the Congo today, they will tell you about the constellation Mpeke, the heavenly form of the great Lemoftu warrior!

But the gods took pity on Mpeke and didn't leave him for the
 scavengers, and if you travel to the Lemoftuland region of the
Congo today, they will tell you about the constellation Mpeke,
the heavenly form of the great Lemoftu warrior!

Stay tuned for the next exciting installment of the Mulezan saga: Part V: Sex Fight!