Blast from the Past - Santa and Mule Throw Down (Director's Cut)

 

THE GRUDGE MATCH OF ALL GRUDGE MATCHES IS BACK!  2021 Edition!

story by Mule (largely rewritten), edits by Edit Brah, original art by Steve and Enrique Nieto Nadal, additional picture wrangling by Edit-brah and Mule

'Twas the night before Christmas when all gyms were closed, not a bodybuilder was lifting and all in repose.

  The stockings were hung by the dumbbells with care, in hopes that Santa with supplements soon would be there.

 The meatheads were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of carbs sweetly danced in their heads.  

I in my gym shorts, and in my jersey, this whore, had settled all cozy for a long winters snore. 

 When out on the lawn there arose  such a clatter, that I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

  Away to the windows, I flew like a flash, pulled up the blinds and opened the hatch. 

 The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow, gave the luster of mid day to the objects below. 

 When what to my wondering eyes should appear but a  pimped out sleigh with 8 roided reindeer. 

With a jacked bearded man in furs, decked out like a pimp, I knew in a moment this was no mere gym chimp!

The days of the jolly old elf were gone, Santa has been into a fitness craze over the last few decades, probably because of all the supplements. weights, etc. he has been delivering, sampled some himself.  Now Saint Nick was SWOLE as a muthafuker!

St Nick was Swole as a Muthafuker!

Santa was lifting:

One more rep, Santa!

And wrestling:

.

Never Defeated and Undisputed North Pole Champ!

Your Mule was spending Christmas Eve over at this new HBB 10's place. The sloot's name was Rebecca or something like that.  Whatever. 

Rebekka?  Rebecca? Rosalyn? Rowan? Raquel? 
Who can remember names, she was great in bed,
THAT I can remember! Wait, I thought,
looking back at the sloot sleeping next to me,
That was last week's sloot I was imagining.

This was Rebecca/Rosalyn/Rowan/Raquel from
THIS WEEK, I must be getting older, the sloots are
 all beginning to blur together, oh wait, they have
 been doing THAT since High School!

I had snapped suddenly awake and gotten up from the bed where I had been dreaming of Santa bringing me a: 7 mm Rem mag Colorado Buck Edition rifle with a carbon fiber Kevlar reinforced caramel brown colored-black spider webbing stock with a 24 inch hand-lapped stainless steel barrel, Cerakoted in tungsten grey and finished off with a muzzle brake... 

♥♥♥SUCH SWEETNESS♥♥♥

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

        

Some noise had woke me up, and I decided I should go downstairs to make sure it wasn't a burglar after the Christmas presents.  I pulled my naked ass out of the nice warm bed and put on my drawers, but couldn't find my jeans in the dark bedroom and I didn't want to turn on the light and scare off the burglar before I had the fun of dealing with the situation.  "Fuck it," I thought, as I headed down stairs . . .

I looked all around the downstairs, even in the closets and found no burglar.   My disappointment is immeasurable. My body is all ready for a fight and now I have been blue-balled.  But then I realized I was hungry and my mind turned to food. 

 There I was eating all the cookies-n-creme protein bars left for Santa, and mixing in some protein powder into the milk...when I heard a noise on the roof!  

I definitely heard it that time.  

Santa was up on the roof.   What I didn't know was that this was one of his favorite stops. 

Where them sloots at?

What Mrs. Claus didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and Santa knew where ALL the really naughty ho's were at and it was going to be a night of HO! HO! and another HO! for that randy elf!

Rebecca was DEFINITELY on
Santa's naughty list!

Santa  popped down the chimney, and then unleashed a snort of derision, seeing that his protein bars had been scoffed down by an interloper!  Still he had to do his jolly followed by a:

"Ho! Ho! Ho!, where's that Ho', Rebecca at!"

To this I replied:

"Hey fairyquins, dat ho' Rebecca is MY ho'--at least for tonight!"

Santa gave me a glower...."Ahhh Mule...you were definitely on my naughty list AGAIN this year....guess you won't be getting that new rifle you have been hankering for!"

Ahhh Mule...you were definitely on my naughty list
AGAIN this year!

"I am sure there is something in that big sack of yours I might fancy. I will have to take a gander!" I replied with a snarl.

"You will have to go through ME first, cupcake!" Santa said with a grimace.

"NOT a problem, Gandalf!" I snorted.

Santa reaches for the buttons on his white fur trimmed red jacket as he removes it slowly. Much more slowly than necessary. On purpose, for effect. First unbuttoned just enough to show the shelf of muscle at the top of his chest and the canyon that separates his two pecs  Then Every shredded corded sinewy muscle is exposed inch by every so seductively slow inch. His vast and spectacularly shredded physique that caught me off guard, this newly revealed masterpiece of muscle that is a match for mine. Maybe more than a match.  Santa is trying to upstage and muscle-mog your Mule! 

Santa slowly removes his fur trimmed red jacket

Revealing a spectacularly shredded physique
 that caught me off guard!
A masterpiece of muscle that is a match for mine!

And ole Saint Nick  truly was a sight to behold… bulging forearms, blasted upper arms with bowling ball biceps … heavy triceps, death-star delts and mini-mountain traps. His thick pecs hung from his body… the square kind, with big half-dollar sized nipples. Six bulging abdominal muscles created a formidable wall of muscle His pleasant smile merged closer to a cocky one of ‘yea. Go ahead muscle boy get a good look.’ I could tell he was getting off on his big reveal. 

You're a big strong boy, Mule
but there is no way your guns are going to beat mine!

Santa checks me out, of course he does, You know the drill when two muscle studs first meet: the initial stare-down, gazing at each other, some overt flexing and posing, then the sizing up of each other. Santa is looking me up and down, his eyes rake over every inch of my body. He checks out my bulging biceps, chiseled pecs and sculpted abs, my thickly muscled thighs, thick rock-hard muscled ass and pronounced bulge. He likes the view. OK, I smirked.  I can play this muscle intimidation game too.  I stretched my muscles, showing off my own far younger and equally impressive physique. I throw a couple of poses at him to show off what I got. 

OK, I smirked. 
I can play this Muscle-intimidation game too.  

I throw a couple of poses at Santa to show off 
my own far younger and equally impressive physique

Then Santa brought his arms up into a double bicep flex.  I can't take my eyes off of those incredible mounds of muscle he is blasting right in front of me as I visually eat up every muscle on this perfect example of a muscle man.  He knows I am enjoying my view as much as he did his.  

Santa kicks off his black boots and unfastens his broad buckled belt, letting his pants fall to the floor. He step out of pants and now stands in front of me  buck naked other than an overpacked white jock strap which barely contains his huge cock and nut-sack. I am wearing the underwear I pulled back on when I woke up before I came down looking for the burglar, that shows off my equally impressive bulge. 

Two muscle bulls square up  chest to chest and nuts to nuts to
 prove who is the strongest muscle man.

Two muscle bulls about to line it up  chest to chest and nuts to nuts to prove whose the best muscle man.  Ah, the thrill of having two muscle studs who know they can defeat most anyone their size...and then putting that reputation on the line to see who can kick whose ass. 

Let's get this over with! I've got a slut to fuck and a couple of
 hundred million toys to deliver after I kick your ass!

"Let's get this over with," Santa said. "I got a slut to fuck and a couple of hundred million toys to deliver after I kick your ass!"

"NOT a problem!"  I snorted "Bring it!"  I yelled doing the international hand sign for: COME AT ME BRO

"Consider it brung!" he replied with a hearty and jolly Santa laugh.

 And with that,  IT WAS ON!!!

Santa charged me like a bull

 Santa charged me like a bull with both arms open! But I was ready. I ducked under the charge, firing a hard fist into Santa's ripped stomach.  To my surprise, my fist connects with a rock-solid ab wall as strong as my own!  There is a sound like a cannon shot as my anvil of a fist lands followed by a bull-like grunt but my fist bounces off Santa's rock-solid abs inflicting no damage to his brick-wall of a mid-section

Santa's momentum carried him behind me. He spun around only to find I had done the same and was ready and waiting for him. CRACK! This time My hard fist struck Santa's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. 

I immediately charged in  as the not-so-jolly muscle- bound elf reached for his jaw, stabbing Santa's abs with a combination of punches! My first blow is a full on powerhouse assault. And I keep them coming. Relentless full power full contact punching strikes! I am determined to turn  those steely abs to mush.  The thudding sound of my fists hitting thick hard muscle and the ape-like grunts of my target echo off the walls of the room.  His brick-like ab muscles are holding, but Santa's grunts get louder with each punch and his body begins to bend over slightly.  But before I can fold him over there is a  WHOOSH!  as  Santa sends a retaliating punch sailing past my head.  Good thing my boxer reflexes let me slip that punch because it sounded and look powerful enough to have knocked my head right off my shoulders!

I swung recklessly, trying to connect with a knockout punch but showing better reflexes and more speed that he had so far Santa  Quickly backed right out of the my reach. Santa bounced back and forth, staying light on his feet, fists raised. Looks like Santa had some serious boxing skillz. Who would have thunk it!

As I moved forward, Santa feinted with a couple of blows at my gorilla-size noggin once again. I avoided the blows, but crafty Santa had only been moving me into position. WHUMP! Santa lifted a boot into my abs, driving it in hard. I stumbled back, hunching slightly. WHAM! Santa seized the opportunity. He lifted an upper cut that landed right below my chin. 

Damn it, how did I come to be fighting SIX Santas,
 and why are they so blurry?

Next he was using my head like a speedbag. 

WHUMP!  Santa lifted his massive leg and landed  a round house kick to my chest that knocked me off-balance  sent me sprawling backwards and  into the Christmas tree, knocking it over and tripping over some presents finally landing on my hard muscled butt on the floor. My head was festooned with garlands and tinsel from the tree...I was looking a pretty sorry sight!

Your Mule may have to rethink his strategy!

But don't despair dear readers, your Mule was not finished, no not by a long shot! 

"Dear readers.."  Wait!  That's me!  Mule mentioned ME on his
 Blog!!! Wait till I tell my friends on Facebook about this.  Andrew
 will be so jealous!  Maybe Enrique will do a picture of me..."

 I got to admit Santa was  Pretty spry for a guy who has been around for centuries, guess he picked up some Muay Thai shit in his travels!  Santa-Fu?

Santa Fu!

My thick muscle laden 54" chest is like a fortress so nothing was hurt other than my pride.  Santa didn't realize that tho, because he moved in fast thinking I was at least stunned.  Nope! Big Mistake, Santy. 

I was ready for him. I spun, sweeping Santa's legs out from under him. As Santa toppled down, I leapt up with my peak athlete  reflexes and landed on top of him. I pinned Santa on his back under my 247 lbs. of solid muscle weight. I was holding him down by both of his wrists to keep him trapped and pinned as he struggled against me.  Then I raised up and brought my hard knee down right into Santa's gut! The knee broke past the muscles and sent him into convulsions.

With Santa coughing, I  let go of his left wrist and quickly brought my forearm down across Santa's thickly muscled bull neck. Santa had the wherewithal to twist and buck upwards, throwing me off and to the side and scrambling away.

I  was up fast, but so was Santa. When we scrambled to our feet, both of us were more cautious than we had previously been. We now know that we each have the body of a bodybuilder with the immense strength of a powerlifter, and possess speed and agility one does not normally find on men of our size and bulk  We circled one another, the battle underway again. We are both powerful, pumped and pissed.  The air we breathed reeked with the smell of testosterone, sweat, peppermint candy canes, oreos and potpourri  (goddammit Santa!)

"You do know how to fight; I’ll give you that, muscle-boy. But I thought you were more into wrestling and tests of strength than throwing hands, Mule....." Santa said slyly. The cock and balls nesting in his jock strap were huge and demanding release.  Fighting makes Santa hard.  It does the same to me.  All that testosterone and adrenaline and bodily contact is enough to give any real male a boner.

Santa raised his hands and spread his fingers. I nodded knowingly. A  test of strength. . Good, I smiled. I hoped that when I brought this north pole strongman down to his knees, it would bring him to his senses and with luck the match might even end right then.  After all, I needed to avoid doing any serious damage to Santa.  Think of the children!  How is Santa gonna get them presents out if I puts him into the Hospital.  Not to mention millions of  poor parents having to explain 'supply chain issues' to crying, disappointed children.

I charged at him with arms up. He reached up to stop me. Our hands met in a grip above our heads with loud "slap"!    Our fingers locked like vices and immediately started trying to force the other down. We moved closer, banging our massive, heaving chests together. Two musclemen 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 their strenuous exertion and our bull necks strained with such intensity that the veins seemed to almost pop through their flesh.

A  test of strength!
With fingers locked like vices the two powerhouses 
 try to out-muscle the other! 

Vibrations in our arms, the quivering of our massive glutes, the rippling striations of our upper back and shoulder muscles, the rivets of sweat forming on each man's face and body, the puffing of our cheeks, and the various shades of red each man's face turned as we applied tremendous force to one  another. Our massive chests and rippling abdomens pressed against one another like walls of warm steel.

Bulging biceps in our arms, the quivering of our massive glutes,
 the rippling striations of our upper back and shoulder muscles,
the rivets of sweat forming on each man's face and body,
as we applied tremendous force to one  another. 

We were two evenly-matched competitors, but eventually with tremendous strain I got my hands on top. Now I had a slight leverage advantage.  I confidently exerted all my strength on Santa's muscles. Every muscle fiber in my body strained to force the mighty North Pole muscleman down to his knees.  Ol' Claus slowly felt himself being overpowered by his rival and being forced to his knees. Desperately he tried to reverse the leverage, but could not. Like me, his teeth clenched, he strained with every ounce of strength he possessed, as the veins in his massive arms, chest and neck stood out.  Straining, grimacing, and pushing in a futile attempt to remain in control he began to get panicky when he realize he was losing, causing more adrenaline to flow into his blood stream to fuel his muscles as they worked furiously to regain control.

Despite his efforts, I was slowly winning the contest.  That is until Santa  suddenly lifts his knee into my  midsection.  He caught me without a protective flex. My eyes bulged and air exploded out my lungs as Santa's knee slammed into my gut, sinking deep into my abs causing me to double over and  stumble back, coughing, spluttering, and heaving for air.

I was caught completely unprepared when Santa ducked behind me, rapidly jerked my wrists behind my back, and kicked the back of my knees hard. I dropped like a log to my knees. Santa extended my arms straight behind me, controlling me by my wrists. My massive pecs stretched to their limit as Santa pressed my wrists back to back. Through gritted teeth, Santa taunted, “Like I said, you’re a big boy… a big, dumb boy.”

.

~Enrique Nieto Nadal

This is almost too easy. 
 I expected more of a challenge from you, Mule!
But keep trying!
I am enjoying beating the shit out of you!

Santa shifted his weight to his left foot and carefully lifted his right foot, planting it solidly in the small of my wide back. Pressing with his foot and pulling on my arms at the same time, Santa pried his opponent painfully backward.

As an experienced and frequent fighter, I  was accustomed to being captured in dangerous  positions and always welcomed the challenge of muscling my way out. But despite my grunting flex and twisting attempts to escape, Santa was controlling me handily. In a flash, Santa pulled his big right foot away, and then stomped it hard again into my spine.  It hurt like hell and I grunted in pain.

Slowly, Santa pressed me  until I found myself laid out on my stomach on the floor, my arms continuing to be ripped backward as Kris Kringle drove his bare foot into my back. “You’ve got nothin’, boy!” Santa barked down at me. 

Again, Santa lifted his foot and stomped it down. A gasp of pain came from my mouth as my head jerked back reflexively. Instantly, I felt Ol' Saint Nick shifting his weight, leaning backward and prying my upper chest off the floor. I was genuinely awed at the power he exhibited in  prying my upper body backward. I felt a momentary flash of doubt in my complete confidence in my physical superiority.  This swole-as-all-fuck dude not only had an on-point physique on level with mine, but to my shock, I realized that  his muscles might be as strong as mine to boot!  Work muscles, not just 'for show' muscles.  

A Mule THanksgiving Story: Mule Meets the Amish

 

Mule meets the Amish:

    

So far, everything I Learned from my Google and YouTube
detectiving was not fake news. Amish people don’t own cars,
televisions, computers, or electronic gadgets. They Value Hard
 Work and Self Reliance. Most Amish are self-employed on
their own farms or in small business ventures like furniture
making. They are religious, gentle and kind people that value
 living life peacefully without aggression. Amish people in
general are non-confrontational .

A Thanksgiving Story

And...then a few hours later...

Da Fuqk, not again! 'Non-Confrontational', my ass! This f'n
 shit happens to me every-pucking-time! I really don't run
around picking fights. I just have a personality that draws
animosity!

Story by Mule, original art by Steve and  Enrique Nieto Nadal, 'exhaustive' research on the Amish by Mule on Google, editing and additional image corralling by Stefan.

From the Mulesblog Gang!

In Amish Country, what happens in the Cornfield,
STAYS in the cornfield.

I had met 18 year old Jebediah in Dallas at Smash Iron Fitness. when he was out on Rumspringa. The guy was a pretty chill dude given his background,  and was fully equipped with bulging farm muscles, so made for a good gym buddy.   Despite only being educated up to the 8th grade, he was a quick learner, he got so good at MADDEN NFL 17, that it got so he was beating ME at the game, quite the prodigy for someone who had never played a video game until he met me. 

During one of our sessions of playing Fortnite I asked how life was without video games. Jeb said something about how he and his older brother Ezekiel wrestle for fun. I said: "I didn't know Amish wrestled, seems too akin to violence."  Turns out, yes they wrestle. They will not wrestle in high school or other professional leagues since they are not allowed to. Well, wrestling can be a lot of fun. I guess it beats playing hide the corn cob or whatever they do when they're not raising barns. 

Then Jeb really bottled my mind when he told me that his Dad had been a Professional Wrestler. I was like;  "Whoa dude, you need to aware me on this. "

Well apparently his old man back home was quite a stud back in the day. He related to me how, when his Pop was 19 years old, his Pa used his RumpleDumpstar Get Out of Jail Free Card  (edit-brah note:  Rumspringa) to spend a few years back in the early 1990's as a pro wrestler for a now defunct regional wrestling federation. He was known  first as the Mennonite Mauler, then as the Amish Armadillo. It turned out  he was quite good both at wrestling and at playing the "heel".   He has tats from his  bad boy persona wrestling days that  while strictly not a violation of the Ordnung if done on Rumspringa, were still something that would bring him in disrepute among his community, but since Amish seldom go shirtless in public most people outside of family don't even know he has them.  Pa's parents were driven into a fernhooled state with despairing cries of "Gookamoedoe!" and "Das teufelzeichen!"   Jeb's Mom almost called off her engagement with her future husband.   But ultimately calmer heads prevailed.   "Cool Story, Bro!" I told him. 

Then  a couple of days later during a gym session of heavy squats he told me an even cooler story, his ribald tale of how he had come to take his RumbleSpinGaGa (Rumspringa) so far from home.

Back Story on How Jeb came to be in Dallas:

Jeb was working in the barn, when a hot Amish chick Rebecca, from two farms over, comes around.   She was looking for his brother Ez, who was courting her, and liked dropping in unexpectedly to try get some muscle eye candy by seeing the hunky sons and their even hunkier Father shirtless.

While Jeb is talking to her (and mutually flirting),  his Pop returns unexpectedly because a wheel broke on the buggy.   Oh shit, Jeb is in trouble -- He shouldn't be alone with a girl much less one his brother is courting - Amish and universal BRO rules.

.

Pa is home and he does NOT like what he is seeing!

Darn that horny boy!  Still, Rebecca IS very hot, I would be
tempted by that Jezebel, myself!

Still I have to lay down the law, before things get out of hand!

Jeb and Pop put the new wheel on buggy, as Jenny watched lustfully.  There is nothing young Amish girls like more than watching musclely men working up a sweat.  

More chores is what thou needs, son, to keep thee out of trouble!

.

Pa's rippling muscles are a sight to behold!

.

The Hot Amish chick almost gets the vapors from all the bare Amish muscle on display. Pop tells hot Amish chick, Rebecca, that, she should git home and back to doing chores before she gets herself shunned by kith and kin, and she leaves hot and horny.

.

I   'spect thine parents have some work for thee to do,
best get back home, young lady!

Pa and the slut's parents  has arranged a marriage contract between slut and Ez.  Pa stands to get 10 acres of prime corn growing acreage, two milk cows and a pregnant sow in the way of dowry and if Jeb messes that up  by sticking his dick where it don't belong, there will be hell to pay.

"But Pa, that bitch is in heat,” Jeb explains. “She’s been comin’ over and checking me out for the last two days… flirting… touching my pecs… my abs… lookin’ at my dick…”

That  sure sounds like ample justification to your Mule, but for some reason Jeb's excuse got his pop even madder and Pa went all Amish Mafia on Jeb's ass.  

"This may seem strict, but as it says in the Good Book, Brethren before Jezebels! It is the holy code! Thou know how angry Ez would be if he found thee sniffing around his girl, we are talking a Cain and Abel situation! I think it best if you got away from temptation and start your Rumspringa now!" Pa told Jeb. "And when you return, you will have your pick of any horse in the herd for your own."

Jeb enthusiastically agreed! Not only would he get to start his Rumspringa early and experience life in the outside world but he would get a horse of his own on his return.  

.

.

 I think it best if you got away from temptation and start your Rumspringa now!

Jeb seemed to be really enjoying life in the 21st century, so I was really amazed when he told me several months later that he was done with his adventure, and was heading home come Thanksgiving, back to life in early 19th century Pennsylvania. His phraseology may have been slightly different.  He invited me back home to meet his folks over Thanksgiving as a way of thanking me for all the fun we have had.

"Are you sure that is such a good idea? I fear I would be a bull in a china shop back in Amish Country. I might end up getting you shunned by kith and kin!"

"Naw, I have written my parents all about you in my weekly letters home and they are eager to meet you. They do have interaction with the English, so it will be o.k."

"I ain't English, I'm MURICAN, damn it!"

"The 'English', is just how we refer to anglophone Americans, our community speaks a dialect of German as its native tongue."

I replied: "Hard to get my head around that, you speak Murican like you were born to it, you don't sound Kraut at all!"

Jeb laughed and shook his head at this, and didn't even bother to respond and went back to playing Penguin Pop.

At first I was like: "nah" but I got to admit after Jeb's stories about his Pa and all, I was curious, and so then I relented with a: "Fuck it, why not?"

So in preparation for my sojourn into Amish country, I did some research, and by "research", I of course mean I watched Harrison Ford's 1985 film: Witness.  I also read this cool article from Men's Health On Line Are-you-Amish-strong? that explains that Amish guys have super-strong cores, 'cause they throw 80 lbs bales of hay around 12 hours a day. 

Fun fact I learned from Google and YouTube  before I left:  The Amish are owners of most of the USA rendering plants used to make pet food. Many are multi-millionaires, but you wouldn't know it to look at them. Forbes On Line said Jeb's grandpa and his 9 great uncles (the sons of honorary WWI Admiral John Yoder,  honorary Commodore of the honorary Amish Navy per Wikipedia)  made over 80$ million in 2017 in a deal with Purina.  This made me more enthusiastic about my trip.

So I grew out my hair and beard for the occasion, "to blend in" with the native Amish,  and was good to go.

I  grew out my  beard and brushed up on my horse riding 
skills "to blend" with the Amish natives

So there I am in Lancaster County, PA.  We flew into Lancaster Airport via Philadelphia.  We flew the last leg on Southern Airways Express, on a plane so small there were no fare classes, and when they saw me, I felt certain they wanted to charge me for two seats for my extra bulk, which Southwest has done to me before,  but this time they must have been  too afraid of me to ask.  They did make Jeb and I sit on opposite sides of the plane though "in order to balance out the plane."  WTF ?!

From LNS we took a combustion engine Uber (oddly enough, there are no Horse and Buggy Ubers)  (big disappointment)(but a big entrepreneur opportunity) to Intercourse, a town whose name I wholeheartedly approved of.

I Approve of the Name of this Town!

In Intercourse, after we enjoyed a piping hot fresh Lancaster county pretzel, and I bought an authentic "Amish" hat. Intercourse, where all the children are above average, and Novembers are unusually sunny; we were picked by Jeb's older brother Ezekiel in a horse and buggy (YAY!) in which we buggied it out to the family farm. Ezekiel like Jebediah was a impressively strapping Amish farm lad. His big ham-sized fists looked like they could inflict serious damage, if the Amish weren't all wimpy  turn-the-other-cheek meek and pacifistic like.

A Buggy Ride While Rocking my  Cool New Amish Hat!
It's good to be The Mule!

So back at the Farm, I met Pa and Ma. Pa was a huge muscle bear of a man, even bigger than I was expecting. Ma was gentle, soft spoken, and a great cook. We're talking old fashioned country cooking- homemade bangin' ass fried steaks, veggies, potatoes and this is the stuff they eat daily. Ez's betrothed  was as hot as Jeb had said, and by the way she was eyeing me, (the same way I eye cooking bacon), every bit as slutty as he described.  I would have to restrain myself, because even though I really wanted to smash that, Your Mule knows the etiquette of being a good guest, don't shit on the carpet, don't put your feets on the table, and don't fuck the wives/fiancees  of your hosts.  Bros before hos!  

The bacon has got me thinking about food.  For the most part, the Amish eat food that they grow themselves. I am pretty sure Pa, Ez, Jeb and me managed to eat a whole cow in one sitting. Pa and I are both huge muscular motherfukcers, and Jeb and Ez are big growing boys. I think Ma ate a sweet potato or something, and Rebecca a few peas, but I was too busy chowing down all that great protein to notice what the womenfolk was eating.

The next day I helped around the farm, doing chores with the boys. I chopped some wood, threw around some bales of hay, carried some fence posts. It sort of seemed a bit like cross-fit training only you felt you were accomplishing something. And the fresh air was great too.  It was an unusually warm day for late November,  so suns out, guns out, and off came the shirts!

I helped around the farm, doing chores with the boys.

I chopped some wood, threw around some bales of hay, 
carried some fence posts. 

Doing chores was like cross-fit training.
I was even getting a good muscle pump doing em! 

All this farm work  builds muscle all day long.
No wonder these Amish kids are as swole as fuck! 

 Think of it- Daily manual labor and a diet of awesome farm fresh foods without all the preservative crap every day of their lives. During the winter time instead of farming they build genuine Amish fireplace mantels (As Seen On TV!) that they sell to a space heater company.

The boys and me stayed out doing that stuff until it started to get dark and then headed back to the farm house. On the way to the house we passed the Barn where Pa was just finishing up a long day of shoveling pig shit.

Pa had spent a long day of shoveling pig shit out the barn

Today was the first time I been around Amish dudes, much less Amish dudes with their shirts off, other than Jeb. Then again, I don't see many Amish people, nor do I know any other than Jeb. 

Pa and the boys had been working with their shirts off all day, which was understandable given the nature of farm work. The boys were powerfully built and impressive,  but  Pa and his bare torso was like Wow! next level straight yoked up.  Pa was one swole jacked Amish dude. I had seen 'ranch hand muscles' on Cowboys before, and his 'farm muscles' gave him the same sort of huge physique. Massive through the chest, shoulders, arms, ass and legs. He was sheathed in huge muscles, but not perfectly defined ones like a bodybuilder, more like a powerlifter. Not fat though, a thick, manly and massive dude.

.

Pa

I know that Amish are supposed to be humble and uniform in appearance, as much as possible. In-breading, and boring unstylish clothing accomplished the latter,  but speaking personally, when you are jacked, it is hard to be humble, and this blast from the past family had men that were JACKED, and the women were pretty strong for chicks, as well.   But think about it: the work- field work hauling bales of hay, building fences, construction to include friggin' barn raising, shoveling shit, tilling land - that's some hard friggin' work! How do you not build muscle doing that all day? Not to mention those master race German Günter Schlierkamp  style farm-raised Teutonic genetics.   It turns out the Amish around here, are all secretly swole as phuck! Or mechdich, as they say in these parts.

Hauling bales of hay, building fences, barn raising, shoveling
shit, tilling land - that's some hard friggin' work! How do you
not build muscle doing that all day?

I was kind of surprised at how friendly and talkative to me Pa was. I had been lead to believe that the Amish was a little standoffish to outsiders. That was certainly not the case with me. I asked Ez about that and he had an interesting answer.

"Ha Ha. That's because thou are built like a darn Sampson, Mule!"

"Wat?" I asked, rather stupidly.

"Look, mostly Elders like Daett  (Pa) would talk to thou, but not much more than that. But if thou art built, they're nicer. And thou art built like a darn brick out house, man. Our culture just likes  muscle men and respect power, especially if thou art nice too. They look at people like they do horses, Daett looks at thee and thine muscles and sees that  thou could do a lot of work and breed good children!" Ezekiel explains

Back at the farmhouse after a long day of work:

That was quite the workout!  I'm famished!  I said after a
 day of farm labor.

Wait until thou tastes Ma's cookin', thou will be glad thee 
worked up a big appetite.

I can't wait, anybody want to arm wrestle, or play a round of
 poker while we wait?

Um Mule, that is not how we do things around here, now is the
 time for reflection and prayer! Jeb interjected.
Well I guess we won't be conversating about sports and pussy
 over a beer either then, I think.

Ma chastised the boys for not wearing shirts in the house when they had an English guest (me) staying over. But Ma relented when Pa pointed out that all the men had been working shirtless together all day anyway. She sent the boys out to chop some firewood for the morning while she finished cooking. Pa and I sat at the table and conversated while Ma was cooking. The old man had some cool stories to tell. It sounded like the big guy had been one hell of a stud in his youth. Ma was like "Pa, thou know I don't like thee telling those stories around the boys. Thou don't need to be putting those wild ideas in their heads!"

I had googled some Amish jokes before I came as part of my research.   I tried one out:  Q: What goes clippity-clop, bang-bang, clippity-clop? A: An Amish drive-by shooting!  SILENCE! I realized that those must not be jokes BY the Amish, but about the Amish.

"We do not joke about shooting in Amish Country, Mule, but I can appreciate the gist of the jest of a buggy being a getaway car,"  Pa interjected generously to bring the mood back to chill.

He gives me a wink and speaking low so Ma wouldn't overhear said:  "Jeb in his letters home had much praise for both thy skill as a wrestler and thy luck with the ladies. In my wrestling days during my extended five year rumspringa, there were many women of loose virtue among the English, who were wrestling groupies..."

"Murican wrasslin' sloots..."  I offered.

"Ach jah, I partook of their offered blessings, and was quite the ladies man.  I was particularly fond of a position I called the Amish Plow.  This is when having sex from behind with thine partner, in the 'doggie' position, thou knocks a girl's arms out from under her and pull them back above her head, smacking her head against the floor and making her into a virtual plow... I was wilder back then, obviously."

Pa was really growing on me.

Ma scolds the boys for being shirtless, especially in front 
of a guest.

She sets them to the chore of chopping wood for the stove
and fireplace.

Well after another fantastic supper I was wondering what entertainment was going to be like with no cable, no TV, no Internet, no computers and no PS2. We did some conversing, and then Jeb and Ez decided to do some wrestling. As I had learned from Jeb, grappling is a big deal among Amish kids it turns out. Who knew?

"Ezekiel, remember it is thine night to wash the dishes. Make sure thou do that before thee and thine brother raessle (wrestle)" she called from the top of the stairs in Pennsylvanian German. 

"Man, I hate washing dishes, seems like WOMAN'S work to me. But I know better than to argue with Ma!" Ezekiel grumbled in Keystone Kraut.

"OK, dishes done. Now I can kick Jeb's ass!" He said in English with a wink towards me.

My eyes scanned Ez's well developed body. His well muscled frame showed the hard manual work he did. Jeb, like his brother, had a muscle packed physique complete with well defined abs and muscular legs. Both these yoked farm boys were fucking stacked! 

Ma laments having only wild boys rather than sedate girls.

Ma forgot her knitting needles, and returned to see the boys rolling around inside the house.  "Kenna thou not take this out to the barn?"

Ez snorted:  "What, and spook the animals?"

Ma was not mollified: "Why did I have to have boys!" and Pa was like "Don't break the furniture this time." Ma still didn't approve. But Pa said "Boy's will be boys, its good for them to burn up some energy and let it out rutsching around. It will get them tired out before bed, so they won't be tossing and turning and thinking about girls all night! Thou complaineth now woman, but methinks thee will find the house mighty quiet and a bit lonely after Ez is married in the Spring!" Ma just sighed, exclaimed: "Wunderlich!" and said some other somethings in Pennsylvanian German (Pennsilfaanisch Deitsch ), and announced she was going up to bed and would see us at breakfast,  "Guten nacht," she said with forced cheer towards us unruly menfolk, before angrily muttering under her breath, in German, as she left.

Wunderlich, dess is why we kenna hab nice dings, she said in
 heavily accented English.

Now, wife, finery is proud, sturdy and plain is better.  Hey Ez,
 no eye gouging! Dat es not Amish behavior!

My eyes scanned Ez's well developed body. His well muscled frame showed the hard manual work he did. Jeb, like his brother, had a muscle packed physique complete with well defined abs and muscular legs. These swole farm boys were fucking stacked and yoked! 

The boys roughhouse, Pa referees and coaches, and makes sure things don't get too out of hand between his two high-spirited high testosterone  sons. I watch and have to admit the boys are pretty good. They are both as strong as an ox, but with limited farm-boy fighting skills.

Both boys were showing enormous testosterone and adrenaline fueled warrior boners through their tight long flannel underwear. I could feel my own cockmuscle swelling in my jeans.

The muscle boys locked up collar and elbow, pushing hard against each other. Ez twisted Jeb's right arm into an armbar and drove the younger muslestud to his knees. Ez rammed his elbow into the Jeb's upper arm and punished the muscles.

With his free hand, Jeb swung a punch to Ez's midsection. The Muscle-bound older brother's stomach was rock-solid. His rippling abs took the punch and he continued to punish Jeb's arm with the arm bar.

Ez used his armbar to power his younger brother down to the floor where he lay across Jeb's back contorting the thick muscles in Jeb's arm. The young muscle stud grimaced and struggled beneath his older brother's control. 

I am dominating thee once again, little brother!

The older muscle stud sat on Jeb's shoulder blades pulling his arm backwards, twisting and wrenching it. My prick was rock hard watching Ez  as he dominated his muscular younger brother.

Thou art getting better, but I am still always one step
 ahead of thee!

"Come on, Jeb" Pa said, "Fight him like he is the urge to Sin. Use thine muscles on him." These Amish farm kids play hard and rough it seems.  Neither one was holding back.

The dominant older muscleboy was showing no mercy, demonstrating his capacity to inflict pain by twisting on Jeb's arm and forcing it back. Jeb was clenching his teeth as Ez wrenched his arm.

Stronger, smarter and better looking than thee, little brother,
it must sucketh to be thee!

Ez locked Jeb's wrists and pulled his arms backward. Jeb kicked his legs in agony, his handsome face contorted in anguish.

"Give it up?" Ez asked, pulling back on Jeb's arms.

"NO," Jeb said. "Thou wilt  never make me give up!"

Ez responded with more punishment. He pulled back harder on Jeb's arms. He leaned back and tugged on Jeb's arms like he was trying to stop a runaway horse. 

"I'll pull thine arms loose from thine shoulders, Jeb" he threatened. Pa and I could see drops of sweat forming on Jeb's forehead and dripping down to his eyes as he struggled against the power Ez was demonstrating on his younger brother. Jeb's eyes were closed as Ez put the strain on Jeb's well-defined arm muscles and powerful shoulders and thick neck.

"OK, das es enough!" Pa ordered. "Die Match es over!"

Ez released his hold immediately and jumped to his feet as Jeb stayed down on the floor. Ez was stretching out his pumped up muscles and wiping sweat off his chest. The young stud was feeling dominant and manly as shown by the enormous boner standing upright and flexing in his long johns.

Ez could not keep the winning smile off his face. I could tell Jeb wanted to crack his brother upside the head, but he held back.

Pa spoke to Jeb in German, but then out of respect to me, switched to English. "A great deal of what we see depends on what we are looking for. See not thine loss, but what lessons thou has learned from it for future successes." Pa consoled Jeb. "Jah, Daett," Jeb replied sadly.

Ez grinned. Then he turned to Jeb, "Come on, lets do something about our hard-ons " as his hand reached down between his legs and grabbed his big tool. Pa just shook his head. "Just make sure you  both bathe, before bed and don't wake up your Maemm!" he told them, then as they bounded up the stairs, stripping down as they headed to the showers, Pa said to me. "Boys will be boys...." Pa had an enlighten attitude about sex, it turned out.   He sort reminded me of my old man on that score. No wonder all the families 'round here have a whole bunch of kids.  Seems the Amish not only work hard, but play hard.

"Now that we have seen the kids raessle, how about us men have a go at it. I rarely get a chance to test my stamina, and measure my strength against an opponent on my own level. Mayhaps I have finally met mine equal. How about a sweaty struggle for supremacy,  friend Mule? It might turn out to be a very long and loud contest so we best take it out to the barn!" Pa said to me.

"Fuck yeah, sure! I love to wrestle. Show me what you got!" I replied. We went out the front door and down to the barn. By the time we got to the barn my warrior boner was tenting my jeans.

The bright full country moon made it as bright as day.

 I decided to do a little intimidation, since I like showing what I got.  I started to flex, letting him see my thickly ridged six pack, wide beefy shoulders, V-shaped muscled back, thick as redwood quads and bulging biceps. Then I let my hand roam over my muscle-packed body. I began to pump up my arms so he could see my HUGE arms and rock hard biceps. I flexed and unflexed my rock-hard abs, then tensed my legs, causing the muscles of my thighs to harden into steel girders. The more I thought about the impending fight, the harder my dick got. I simply struck a most muscular pose and flexed at Pa. “Come on big man let's see what you got to match THIS!" I challenged confidently and cockily. 

Come on big man let's see what you got to match THIS!
I challenged

"Not bad, English! Thou got big muscles..." Pa said with a slight smile.

Not bad, English! Thou got big muscles...

But mine are just as big, I think...and even stronger...

"But mine are just as big, I think...and even stronger..." Pa asserted, his smile disappearing as he spoke. His tone was confident without being cocky.

If we Amish were of a mind to gamble, I would bet on my
 working muscles over thine SHOW MUSCLES, Mule.

He had good reason to be confident and self-assured. Pa was about my size, which means he was damn big. He weighed about 260 ( 118 kg.) and it was all solid muscle. And just in case I forgot to mention it earlier, Pa was fucking JACKED! His muscles were just as big as mine, although not quite as defined as mine. In other words, we are close to the same muscle size, but he is slightly beefier. He started flexing for me as I compared our stats mentally. FUCK!! Chest, arms, legs, shoulders this dude matched me muscle for muscle. Even his abs looked as hard and thick as mine.

I have a good eye for muscle and even though I doubt Pa has ever  been to a gym or lifted a weight in his life, based on his physique I would estimate that I am about to grapple with a dude that can deadlift 300kg (660 lbs.) and OHP 150kg (~330 lbs.). That's a lot of functional strength. But I was confident, I knew my body was always ready.

We began limbering up, stretching our huge muscles before we wrestled. Standing with my thick legs apart I flexed my mighty arms, and clenched my fists causing my vascularity to rush across my arms, flexing my horseshoe triceps, puffing up my chest and flexing my pecs, at the same time tightening my magnificent eight pack abs. My muscles popped as I made sure that Pa knew that while we may be the same size, my body was more vascular and aesthetic. I arrogantly kissed my own bicep.  I was trying to psych out my opponent with my muscle, but I could tell from the fearless look in his eyes that it was not  working. 

"Ach, Vanity is a sin, my boy, and pride goeth before a fall." Pa grinned. "I think all those muscles of thine are for show. Ach jah, let's see how thou fair against a godly muscle man," Pa said as he flexed his biceps bounced his big furry pecs, and rippled his abdominals. For an Amish-dude, he was showing uncharacteristic pride in his physique, but perhaps it was glory to God, type posturing, but it sure sounded like country-fried. trash-talking to me. I think I caught a glimpse of the glorious, boastful, Amish Armadillo of yesteryear, sneaking out of that Humble Amish facade, Pa normally wore.

"I have a little confession, friend Mule" Pa is saying as I am stripping off my clothes. "I like punching things. And I am good at it. Really good at it, in fact.  But don't take my word for it...."  WHAKKK!!!

I hadn't even had a chance to get my vest off when great  Amish muscles flex and bulge!  A body that is like a steel springe erupts in furious action as a powerhouse left flashes in an overhand blow that  knocks  your mighty Mule down on his muscled ass.  OWW!!!... I didn't see that coming! What did he hit me with?......Everything is spinning ....can't think straight... A sucker punch had knocked my butt into the dirt!  The back of my head hit hard on the wagon as I landed.  My big gorilla noggin snapped hard as it bounced off the hitch.  I was  stunned, and fuck did  that hurt!   "WTF, dude...! What's with the cheap shot. Aren't y'all supposed to be pacifists?"

Pa stood over me, his anvil sized fist still flexed. "Ha, I still haven't lost my knockdown punch!...Relax English, If I had wanted to hurt thee I would have knocked thee out. That little love tap was just a introduction to Amish Power! Not violence so much as EXPLANATION." That sounded like a rather dubious rationalization of violence to me, and made a note of it for future exculpatory use. I know an intimidation tactic when I see it, and that cannon of a fist that knocked me on my muscle butt was all about intimidation. Looks like Pa knew a thing or two about psyching out an opponent himself.

  

What Pa called a "tap" had me down and seeing stars
 and hearing bells.

I hate to feel what he considered to be a REAL punch.  It was
 a good thing Amish were pacifists, they would be dangerous
 if they allowed themselves the luxury of violence.

My sore chin, and throbbing head was glad I would never
find out what it was like to mix it up with Pa in a serious
brawl.

I won't fist fight thee, but I can raessle thee, Mule, to test thine 
mettle against mine..

You're on man, I need a chance for some payback now! 
Do you Amish squeal like pigs when you are forced to submit
in wrassling?

I gotta hand it to Pa...I didn't see that punch comin'...and he hits way harder than I expected.  

"You're on man, I need a chance for some payback now! I'm going to run you over and then stomp the shit out of you, bitch!  Do you Amish squeal like pigs when you are forced to submit ?"  I snarled.

I am about to instinctively throw a retaliatory punch from my knees. I fire my big right first upward towards his big bull balls, but showing some real fighting skill Pa blocks my punch.

I'm still dazed, but I instinctively start to throw a retaliatory
 punch to his big bull balls while on my knees!

With surprising skill, Pa easily blocks my punch!

Like I said, No punching, English...

It's best Thou just stays down until thou recovers, 
English

I want thou at full strength, English, so thou will have no
 excuses for thine defeat!  After all, It would be meaningless 
for me to win with cheap tricks. 

How about you eat a dick, you Amish douchebag...is that all
 you got?

"Thine overconfidence will be thine ruin this day, English. We will see which of us 'eats a dick' as thou so cleverly put it!"

"Take thine time, English. I will be ready whenever thou art ready!" the Amish muscle bear said as he stepped back.  "It seems I've surprised you with that little taste of my strength.  Here is another surprise: allow me to show what a REAL man wrestles in," Pa smiled.  He slowly began to take off his jeans. Pa unbuttoned then dropped his jeans, and then his long johns.  I was surprised to see that beneath his very Amish gear, he was  wearing a pair of black spandex briefs, a relic of his wrestling days.  You can take the Amish dude out of the wrasslin' ring, but you can't take the wrasslin' ring out of the Amish dude.

These are the sort briefs I wrestled in back in my 'Mennonite 
Mauler' and 'Amish Armadillo' pro wrestling days. 

Pa noticed my surprise."These are the sort briefs I wrestled in back in my 'Mennonite Mauler' and 'Amish Armadillo' pro wrestling days.  I wore them especially in thine honor tonight, English. And besides, wearing them  puts me in the mood to really  kick some ass!" he said by way of explanation.  Well, I guess Pa had planned this out then.  It wasn't just a spontaneous match, or at least not on his part.

I had to admit Pa's muscle layered body was impressive as fuck in those revealing trunks.  He caught me admiring, and decided to let me continue to admire.  With a quick athletic mount, he perched on one of the horses, ostensibly to wait for me to be ready, but in actuality he was showing off his hot muscle man body and making sure I was checking out his imposing physique.

Pa waited while perched on one of the horses showing off his
 imposing physique in his wrestling briefs

I wore these wrestling briefs especially in thine honor tonight,
 English

Wearing my wrestling briefs really puts me in the mood to  
 kick thine big English muscle ass!

Get up, English...I have much  to show thee. Come on. 
 Let's see what thou got!!

I am going to enjoy humbling thine big English muscles!

After a couple of minutes of making me look up at him as if I was looking at a muscle god on this throne, he leap down to rejoin me.'

"Get up, English...I have much  to show thee. Come on.  Let's see what thou haveth!! I am going to enjoy proving thine big English muscles are no match for mine!"

"How about thee just try and find out, MULE?" he said. "Man to man? Diecke out und frei as in Eden, as we do battle?" Pa says as he puts his hands on his hips, looking at me through narrowed eyes. His thick dick looked like a third leg between his two muscled quads.

Your MULE paused and watched the Amish muscleman's thick horsecock as it powered up with potent manhood, till the thick cockhead poked out the top of his black briefs past his navel.  With what I guess passes for a sly grin among the Amish, he slipped his thumbs into the sides of his briefs.  In a single fluid motion he deftly pulled off his incongruent and un-Amish bikini briefs, letting them drop to the ground, freeing a steel-hard purple-headed python as large as my own!

My manrod instantly responded to the challenge. With a big grin I stood up and  dropped my jeans, leaving me  nude. My big cockmuscle slapped againt my eight-pack abs as it was freed and  instinctively flexed. "Fuuuck! This is gonna be fun!" --I thought. As you faithful Mule Blog readers know, there is nothing I like more than to fight butt nekkid! My stallion cock was already twitching at the thought of a nude fight with this huge muscle bear of a man.

I am going to enjoy proving thine big English muscles are no 
match for mine! Pa said with assurance as we shed our clothes
 for battle

                                                                       ~pic by Enrique Nieto Nadal~

We stripped nude to wrestle.
Fuuuck! This is gonna be fun! I love to fight butt nekkid!-- I thought.

Now we were both staring at the other's exceptionally muscled naked body and beautifully shaped, fully erect, throbbing donger! And as we both stood and stared at the masculine muscular splendor of the other, I couldn't help but think that we looked like two ancient Gladiators. Then both buck naked muscle hunks started to circle around each other. Both our man-pipes throbbed, bobbing up and down, so hard they hugged our abs and pointed straight up to the ceiling ... both our joy sticks dripping pre-cum onto the ground.

As if by mutual agreement, we both put up our hands and slowly interlocked our fingers: our match would start with a test of brute strength. I quickly realized Pa was even stronger than he looked; I could barely hold my own against the tremendous force the God-fearing muscle-dad was applying against my arms. I broke into a sweat and Pa smiled. Amish farmer muscle bulged and pumped hugely, as he gradually took control of his young muscle stud opponent, forcing me back, inch by inch, as we both grunted with the strain. The swole farmer was strong as an ox, but I was a skilled grappler. With a quick side-step, I released my part of the hold, causing Pa to stumble forward. As he did so, I side-step like a matador fighting a bull. I fire my right knee up, crashing into his stomach. BOOM! I smacked his abdominal wall of bricks with a hard brutal knee lift. FUCK YEAH!!

But this big dude's abs were like concrete! A rock-solid ab wall as strong as any I had ever come across   My leg actually hurt from hitting him.His rock hard abs took it, but I had caught him by surprise without a protective ab flex. The surprise gave me the opportunity to seize his left arm and savagely twist it, then hooked around it in a painful arm-bar. Using both my brawny arms against the strongman farmer's left arm, I poured on the pressure. Pa was clearly in pain. Pa was groaning. His groaning was music to my ears. All of my muscles were bulging with effort now. I felt no trace of pity or compassion. I liked Pa, but once the battle started I was in warrior mode, and he was just another opponent I was going to enjoy defeating, even humiliating.

Pa grinned at me as he muscled his way out my arm bar.  "Thou look like thou haveth a hard six pack too Mule, let's see if it is as tough as mine...” Pa rears back his right avil sized fist, his arm and chest muscles peaking, and fires it towards me.  WHAM!!! faster than I would have thought possible his right fist smashed deep into my rock solid abs.  With one mighty roundhouse gut punch the sound of fist hitting muscle filled the silent night air. It sounded like a crack of thunder! Sweat exploded off of my muscled body from the impact. I grunted in pain from the breath knocked out my body. My knees buckled but held.  I had managed to flex my abs into a wall of bricks in time and despite the thud and the aching pain through my body I stood on my feet. But he had doubled me over. Yes,  I was doubled over with my massive arms clutching my reddening stomach and struggling for breath in pained coughs--  But I was still on my feet! 

"Motherfucker!" I spit out angrily. " What happened to that 'no punching' rule???"

"Change of rules. I decided we should go with English rules in your honor!"

"Well you could have at least told me that...common courtesy and  bro rules and all!"

"This is WAR, there is no whining in the ring, just be glad I didn't hit you with a shovel," I had no idea what had come over Pa, but there was an odd and menacing look in his eyes.  He told me later than he had been transported back to his time as a wrestling heel, and was hearing the roar and taunts of the crowd.

"I don't need your fucking approval or to ask if you like it, English Bitch" Pa growled, his muscles flexing and his eyes wild and glowing.

"Whoah.." I wonder that the Amish term is for someone gone all bat shit crazy psycho?   (ed. note: verkehrt moondkalb)  Well, so that's the way it is. Goodbye to the mild-mannered Amish pacifist, hello Michael Myers .  Well if this was to be no-holds barred type match, TWO could play at that game, and y'all KNOW what I am capable of, readers!

~pic by Enrique Nieto Nadal~

WHAM!!! Pa's right fist smashed into my rock solid abs, 

doubling me over and sending  aching pain through my body...

 but I was still on my feet!

Pa knew he had hurt his opponent with his daring, dominant attack to his muscled abs.  But he was Fernhoodled.  The English should be laying on the ground or at least sink to his knees after that blow, but instead he is still standing. 

  “Not bad Mule,” Pa said. “I can't remember the last time anyone took my gut punch full force and didn't end up on his knees clutching his belly, puking up his guts and moaning in pain,” he laughed. I straightened up, stretched out and flexed my aching abs.  While trying to hide a grimace of pain and still working to control the ache in my bruised abs I raised my fists and motioned for him to bring it, my challenge to him to trade more punches clear.

He merely laughed harder and charged. WHAM!  His arm crushed into my chest with a clothesline! FUCK!!! Prior to this I thought that was one of the those fake ass moves you see in pro wrestling! Guess not as I hit the fucking ground like a toppled tree. As I sprang back to my feet, we both paused and momentarily stared once more at our opponent's sweat-dripping, glistening muscled body. Facing one another, we both felt mutual, lustful admiration of our opponent's physique and strength.

~pic by Enrique Nieto Nadal~

Mule Bearhugged by Pa

Pa wrapped his massive arm around my naked waist. I knew at once that I was in big trouble as I felt Pa's massive, smooth pythons coil around my midsection. I had been impressed with the huge size of the Amish muscle-dad's rock-crusher guns when I had first seen them. They were bigger than that of most bodybuilders, and now they were locked around my struggling body, in a crushing bearhug. I desperately tried to get free, but Pa had me! He cinched in his hold even tighter, forcing me to groan in pain. Not only was the air being squeezed from my lungs, but my John Thomas was beginning to leak pre-cum from the sexual excitement of my position. The front of both our muscled bodies were met in forced proximity. Chest to chest, nipple to nipple, hard johnson to hard johnson! Pa raked my erect bullet hard nipples with his own, flicking them up and down and around and around sending shivers throughout my muscular body.  I breathed heavily.  As hard as I tried not to be,  I was becoming aroused. This brutal bout exciting both of us. The bearhug was driving our crotches into a frenzied groin match. We began to drive our hips more forcefully into each other. We each ground our throbbing hard manmeat into the others, as harder and harder our pulsating manhoods fought. Pa forced his beefy pecs into mine. We stared into each other's eyes as muscled chest presses hard into muscled chest.  Together we both flexed hard up against each other. Our rock hard nipples continuously scrapped across each others. 

Pa's horse cock pressed up against the underside of mine, crushing it against my own heaving, deeply ridged muscle gut.

Pa used both his massive arms to pour even more power into his vice-like bearhug. I was locked in his arms like a animal in a spring trap.  His crush sunk into my body, his cannon ball hard biceps crushing dents into my body.  He was enjoying himself, feeling a rush of sexual and muscle power as he dominated his younger muscleman opponent with his bulging biceps and triceps! I was being crushed into the wall of muscle that was Pa's chest and torso. "Me thinks your back breaks now, English..." Pa growled.  I was trying desperately to relieve the terrible pressure of the mankiller arms crushing me. But Pa was too strong and was in control now, he was the aggressor. Our chests were heaving, and our pre-cum dripping freely as our kielbasas were squashed against each others rippling steel hard abs. The torturous pain of Pa’s bearhug was getting to me. I was having trouble getting enough air in my lungs to fuel my oxygen deprived muscles.

Pa’s might was proving too much for me. “Uuuuuuhhhhh!” I moaned. “Ooooooooowwwwwwww!” I groaned as Pa continued to savagely crush me against his muscled body. A grin plastered his face at my futile attempts to escape. 

Then in a change of tactics, Pa seductively licked the beads of sweat from my thick neck. The sensation was primitive ... carnal ... awesome.  It took all of my self control not to cum. Here I was, a massive muscle man caught in the grip of another massive muscleman ... our mammoth bodies meshed together ... our rampant lust for one another running out of control. My body shuddered, as my mind overheated from the heavy intoxication of pure sex. Pa growled like a mad bull, making it very clear that he was in control. Caught in the clutches of an erotic stupor, my eyes crazed with unrestrained primal lust. I knew what was coming. I was about to be cock fucked. I tried to squirm away, twisting my body to avoid Pa’s mighty manmeat.

                                                                                                                                                                                         ~pic by Enrique Nieto Nadal~
I pushed on Pa's massive chest, futility trying to break free of 
his crushing bearhug

I pushed on Pa's massive chest, trying to squirm and twist away to freedom. Pa dug his clenched anvil-sized fist into the small of my

wide back. Like a massive hydraulic press his huge arms drew my waist ever closer to his own armor plate abs. My rib cage was being contracted even more, bit by bit. My hands clutched the Teutonic Hercules’ biceps in an effort to lessen the agony of the crushing bearhug. That failed also.

We were pressed together massive tallywacker to massive ding dong. Pa moved his hips back slightly and positioned his big cockhead under mine, then pressed his dangledong into the underside of mine. Pa increased the pressure of his bearhug as he began to hump my anaconda with his, crushing my trouser python as he shoved it back against my own body with his own battering ram. Our grunts and groans of both pleasure and pain turned me on, as did the feeling of our two massively muscular bodies cemented together. Faster and faster Pa humped my manmeat, thrusting his mighty fuckpole like a jack hammer. Pa became so engrossed in cockfucking my dingdonger with his own mighty impaler that he grunted loudly with each powerful strike, shaking his sweat-drenched head from side to side. Beads of perspiration flew every which way as he ratcheted up his pulverizing hammering attack. Faster and faster he bludgeoned away at my man meat.

I was about to cum! Pa was going to force me to cum and drain nuts! I had to get away or else I’d shoot my load and with it my strength. I knew I had to get free now!

Then with one last mighty attempt I was finally able to break free of the pulverizing bearhug and push myself away from the Amish powerhouse.

Pa unexpectedly playfully smacked my granite hard glutes. “I can kick this magnificent  hinterbacken of thine whenever I want to, Muscleboy!" he gloated, in a way he had not done since his days as the Amish Armadillo, our bout had awakened a part of him that had laid dormant here among the "Plain Folk" of Lancaster County. "I'm a good judge of livestock and horse flesh, and of men. And thine muscle butt is a thing of pure beauty.  The most magnificent  ass I've ever seen on a man. It's a true bubble butt of grade A muscle!  And you have a pair of balls the size of any blue ribbon prize bull at the County fair!" Pa complimented. His words made my huge, thick fuckrod throb wildly.  It stretched out straight as an arrow,  the head beet red and saturated in pre cum.  

“Are thou ready for more? How’s this?” Pa asked.  With a grunt the Amish powerhouse slowly began to lift  me up and off my feet. Effortlessly he lifted me over his head by one ass cheek and the back of my neck, his muscles peaking as he does. With great ease the Mighty Mennonite pressed me up and down several times, demonstrating his strength by turning his helpless victim into a human barbell. He held me in an over the head body press to my astonishment. Here he was standing in the middle of the barn and pressing me over his head. “Who’s in control now,” he taunted, as he manhandled my 260 lbs body like I was a rag doll. “Be prepared to be sucked off!” he added. 

As he power lifted me over his head he pumped me up and down, his straining back and ass muscles flexing. Then as he lowered me down he took my great one-eyed monster into his mouth to suck on it. He was again trying deliberately to force me to climax. He was trying to force the cum out of me.  He sucked my sausage as he pressed me up and down.

Pa took the head of my massive fuckpole into his mouth. he began to suck on it, licking it, swirling his tongue over my enormous cockhead, probing the piss slit with the tip of his tongue. I felt my body tense as I moaned in pleasure. The feel of that huge fucking piece of warm meat in his mouth made Pa's  mouth water something fierce.  He licked the underside with the wettest, broadest strokes of his tongue. Pa flicked his tongue around my love helmet ....underneath the head ... up and down the underside of the shaft ... anything to wet my huge fuckpole.  My head jerked a few times from the oral ravaging, my bratwurst was undergoing. 

Still held aloft by Pa, I couldn’t stop moaning and sighing ever time his tongue touched my man-muscle. Pa’s tongue tip rubbed underneath the edge of my cockhead. He nibbled ravenously at the swollen head. He viciously dove onto my schlong ... stuffing the huge head into his mouth. My body jerked violently ... almost falling out of Pa's clutches.

Pa had me in serious trouble. He began to lower me further, trying to get the entire nine inch length of my musclecock in his mouth. I have a lot of manmeat, and it was a struggle for Pa to swallow all of it. He held his head straight back to open up his entire throat and slowly lowered me down, until finally his face was pressed up against my groin, with his beard buried deep into my pubes.

I moaned and groaned in pleasure as the powerful suction of Pa’s mouth brought me to near climax. I fought with all my strength not to shoot my load. I tried to squirm free but as before, Pa had me firmly under control. As he sucked, pumped and sucked, he brought me ever closer to cumming. He kept  the huge head of my python-like penis captured in his mouth.  Again and again Pa pressed me up then down and deepthroated my wang! His strength was amazing. 

The Amish he-man was driving me crazy, as I released sighs of pleasure. I desperately gasped for air. The Amish Sampson took a deep breath as he went down on me until he could feel the head, swollen, tight, hot and smooth, hit the back of his throat.

Pa, ever so slowly, lifted me higher, which pulled my mansword back out of his mouth. The long, wet pull out caused me to wail out in ecstasy. The Amish hunk swallowed me again, lowering me down into his mouth. Again he pulled it out slowly. It was the withdrawal that really got to me, it was driving me crazy with sensual delight. Pa did it over and over and again and again, every time slower than the last. My elevated body buckled and squirmed while being held overhead. I was constantly moaning in both pain and pleasure at the greatest blowjob I had ever experienced.

Pa swallowed tremendous quantities of my leaking pre cum. In fact, he used his tongue to lick and swirl about my cockhead, making sure he got every drop of my pre-cum.   I could feel my fully packed ball sack churning and boiling.  Pa seemed determined to suck me dry of every drop of my man juice. He was savagely siphoning my cum tanks. It would be just a matter of a few more seconds before I would shoot a ball draining geyser of cum!

                                                                                    ~pic by Enrique Nieto Nadal~

Pa power lifted me over his head then pressed me up and
 down like a human barbell As he lowered me down he took
 the head of my cock into his mouth and began to suck on it!

Pa rolled his tongue around and round the head of my throbbing salami until it was on fire. It was sexual torment. My breathing became faster and faster as my moans grew louder and louder. 

The Amish Armadillo felt my muscular buttocks clench as he drove  Your Mule, his hunky victim, wild with erotic desire. The feeling of total domination over a muscleman was Pa's greatest secret suppressed satisfaction, and the bigger his opponent, the greater his satisfaction, a vanity he normally, in his plain Amish life, humbly avoided.   I knew I had to get away or else I would shoot my load and with it lose the last of my strength. But time was running out!

Pa went all the way down my 9" inch shaft to its base . He held all of my love trumpet in his hot, wet, juicy mouth as his tongue massaged and sucked it hard. My body trembled as this Amish grizzly began to withdraw ... his teeth raking hard as he started to lift me higher, ever so slowly, raking, tonguing, licking, pressing until his teeth clenched the base of my cockhead and stopped. 

“OOOOOOHHHHHH ..... GOOOOOODDDDDD!” I cried.  My donger was as rock hard as it had ever been in my life. It throbbed and throbbed and throbbed like a ticking bomb about to go off. I fought the overpowering urge to pump my load down Pa’s throat. I was determined to keep Pa from stealing the testosterone laced semen out my cum vault and leaving me as weak as a kitten.

The Amish Incredible Hulk felt this massive body he held helplessly over head, turn rock solid. Pa knew I was close. He held my cockhead tightly between his teeth. He swirled his tongue over and around my man-mushroom causing me to moan ever louder. Then he began to probe my piss slit with the tip of his tongue. Gently, at first, then ever harder his tongue tip invaded it, my body trembled uncontrollably.

Pa knew he had this muscleboy right where he wanted him ... defenseless ... totally helpless ... and at his mercy. “I’m going to make thou shoot thine might, Muscleboy,” boasted Pa. “Thou knoweth it, and I knoweth it,” he added. I didn’t want to cum. I was desperate not to cum and lose more of my strength and my dignity. But my balls were drawing up higher in my nutsack. My balls wanted to climb up and blast out a load.

My self control was waning fast. With all my might I was trying not to shoot his load but there was no keeping the dam from giving way.

                                                                                                                                                              ~pic by Enrique Nieto Nadal~
Pa was determined to suck me dry of my baby-seed. When the
 dam breaks cum gushes out my nuts in a torrent down Pa's
throat. My thick white cum cascades from the corners of Pa’s
 mouth and flowed as down his bearded chin, dropping like a
waterfall onto his chest!

 “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!AH JEEZEEEE!! UHHHHHHHHHH... DUDE! I'M GONNACUM! I'M GONNA CUMMMMM! ”  I screamed as the first violent jets of my cum blasted down Pa’s throat.  Pa swallowed hard taking it all as his tongue continued to probe my piss slit. The second eruption was even more violent and stronger than the first. My cum flooded Pa’s mouth. He gulped down the full load. Then more and more mighty jets of my cum flooded Pa’s mouth as the cum explosions came faster and faster ... too fast for him to swallow them all. Cum bulged out his cheeks and thick white cum  cascades  from the corners of the Pa’s mouth and flowed as a torrent down his bearded chin, dropping like a waterfall onto his chest.

I cried out in pain and pleasure with each furious ejaculation of my giant, veiny Master-of-the-Universe.  I felt my strength ebbing away with the rivers of cum as Pa suck and sucked and licked and licked my fuckpole. I don't think I had never cum so much in all of my life. One especially massive blast finally caused Pa to gag, cough and withdraw completely to catch his breath and clear his throat. When he did my ginormous Russell-the-love-muscle popped out still shooting load after massive load. Load after load gushed out with such force that it sprayed Pa's muscled packed torso, covering his beefy hairy chest and heaving rippling stomach and thighs in a thick carpet of white milky cream.

Once I had been thoroughly drained of my cum, Pa simply let go and walked out from under me, like you walk out a squat rack after racking the barbell. Only in this case leaving me to crash down to the ground onto my back. Pa's magnificent body stood menacingly over me.

My body crumbled to the dirt floor in a state of exhausted ecstasy, ending up in a heap at Pa's feet. He had milked every drop of my muscleman seed out of me.  Totally drained of my strength and as weak as a newborn kitten, I could only whimper. Not only had my body been ass-kicked by a big muscle guy, but my ego had taken a beating as well. My mighty man meat was now limp, while Pa's horse-cock was still huge and hard, bobbing up and down as he stared down at his defeated opponent.  Pa put his foot on my heaving chest, flexing his mighty arms in victory, his chest and abs heaving. Standing over me, his muscled body dripping a steady shower of sweat on me, his fallen opponent. With one hand he wiped the perspiration from his face and eyes, flicking the wet, slimy residue contemptuously down on me. Plainly visible was my cum still dripping off the victorious Pa's bearded chin. He straddled me, posing his massively built body as he continued to pose and stroke his monstrous thunder stick. The erotic sight of all that sweaty, bulging muscle standing above me was more than I could handle, and my limp, abused ding-a-dong responded by becoming painfully hard again.

Pa looked down at me.  He admired my finely formed muscular buttocks once more, but in Amish humility, and hostly manners declined to take that additional prize, even though I was in no position to stop him.  “I’ve always liked fucking up thou big musclebound Sampson wannabes,” he stated in a surprisingly mellow tone “The bigger thou guys art the better I like it ... and thou art one of the biggest. That was the most fun I have had in... well, actually, the most fun ever..." he laughed. So Pa had had fun, and I had been conquered by the best blowjob ever!

"Now, I need  for you to take care of my own boner, kicking your big English muscle ass got me fucking hot...Yeah... that's right, now there's something you're GONNA do...You're gonna suck my dick... like I fucking sucked yours!"  Pa announced as he moves his left hand up and down his dripping wet pecs, muscled torso and rippling sweat-slick six-pack abs. He clamps his left fist around his long, fat horse-like cock and begins to stroke. Pa stands directly over my face, his feet straddling me, his bull-size balls dangling and the hooded head of his thick uncut cock hugging his rippling abs while reaching up halfway to his furry muscle pecs.  He starts wacking off -- slapping his big salami. Or more likely around these parts they probably call it buttering the corn or churning the butter.

"It's not going to suck itself, English..." he said. Snapping his fingers, to connect to me through my ecstatic post-coital haze.  I look at the massive equipment dangling in front of my face, cock my head, and with an angry glare I snap: "I'll suck when I'm fucking ready!" 

 "Nee, you lost..you suck when I say to suck...my English Cocksucking Muscle Bitch!" Pa replies forcefully as   he pushes his thick fuck tool down, aligning his fat cockhead with my mouth. He steps forward,  with a very UnAmish like smirk. His cockhead looks too large for my mouth, but with a grunt and a thrust of his muscled ass, his mushroom cockhead pops into my mouth.

Still spellbound, your humiliated Mule clamps my left fist around the base of Pa's cock, then slide my tongue over his cockhead, lifting my head upward as I do. My eyes meet Pa's as I look upward.I pause for a moment, then sigh, my cheeks burning red, as I begin licking Pa's cock like an Amish ice cream cone, and began working my mouth and tongue like a sexual automaton, working that Amish man meat like a mad machine, pleasuring his uncut dinker, from the head, down to the mighty shaft. 

My head lowers and raises repeatedly over the muscled Amish strongman's rock-hard meat. Pa's head tilts down to watch my powerful shoulders, moving head, and heaving chest as I start rapidly deep throating the Mennonite Muscle Stud.

Pa slams his cock balls-deep into my mouth, his bull balls slapping my chin, followed by rapid hard humping and pumping. Pa's sweat-slick, muscled ass flexed with each pump. 

Through very loud erotic grunts and sighs of unAmish like pleasure Pa spoketh thus:

"AND NOW... UNGH!... YOU'RE FINISHED... UNGH!.. UNGH!... YOU ENGLISH BITCH! BECAUSE... UNGH!.. THIS WILL ALWAYS... UNGH!.. REMEMBER... UNGH!... WHERE I... UNGH!... DEFEATED AND HUMILIATED YOUR... UNGH! BITCH ENGLISH ASS! UNGH! AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Pa's muscles tense. He contorted and tightened his massively muscled body as , his muscles peak and he begins to roar, his body shaking, as his head rolls back and then snaps forward, his body jerks, he snaps his hips back and his cock pops out of my mouth as his explosion of cum shoots like an out of control fire hose. His groans become a howl as he explodes, spraying jet after jet of thick cum that coats my face and torso until I look like a glazed donut.

Having shot, his long thick dick was still leaking out cum. He let his hose to continue to drain on me, allowing  cum to plop down in large globs temptingly onto my face. As he contorted and tightened his massively muscled body he stroked his softening fire hose of a baby-maker. Flexing his ample ass muscles as he choked the chicken, milking every last drop of jism from his huge  bratwurst down on my face and chest.    

When he was finally through he looked down at me the hauteur was gone, and the serene humility was back. It looked like his mini-Rum-tug-tugger (Rumspringa) was over and he had set his  wild wrestling glory days once again behind him.

Pa's insanely developed muscles had a massive testosterone fueled pump from the workout they had just been through. His immense body rippled with astounding waves of steel muscle with even the smallest movement the made. The "V' formed by his lats was amazing.  His pecs and abs move with each breath. You could have charged admission for the muscle show Pa was unknowingly putting on by just walking. I stared as Pa struts with a natural arrogance to the center of the barn where he picks up the black briefs he tossed there earlier and steps back in them, taking some time to adjust his sizeable junk as he slips them back on.

"How do you feel, friend Mule?" Pa asks while the muscle stud struggles to fit his extra value size nut sack and still half-hard one-eyed Amish Anaconda into his black briefs. 

"Like I got the shit kicked out of me and then got sucked off, then had to suck cock and took a cum shower to boot!" I replied flatly while taking in the sight of Pa's hot Amish Muscled Ass and the massive equipment between his legs being squeezed into those black briefs. I was amazed all that bulging muscle beef and meat could fit in such skimpy briefs.

Ignoring my smart-ass remark, Pa spoketh:  "I hope thou have enjoyed thine visit and have learned something about us Amish...perhaps we were able to dispel some of the misconceptions you English have of us...I wish you well, friend Mule.... I am looking forward to another sparring session with you someday, God willing..."

I didn't respond, I was in a fog, the power and dominance Pa had exerted over me and was still reeling from one of the most incredible blow-jobs I had ever received.    The combination of power, domination and sensual pleasure, had me seeing hearts...even as I looked down at my painful abs, purpled with broken blood vessels visible. “My poor six pac,” I think. “My new Amish man-crush sure could land a punch.." I smiled dreamily.

and on this Thanksgiving, I was thankful I had gone to Amish country. WOW!

Although it would get them in trouble with the Bishop,
the Farmer brought in a Mennonite from Intercourse to
 take memento pictures for Mule of himself with Jeb
and his family including his little brother Zebulon.

Ezekial's hot, slooty Amish wife,
 damn was I SO tempted to smash that!

The Dark Side of the Amish


and on a lighter note:

Previous Thanksgiving Themed or Thanksgiving Time Posts:

Mule and the Male Fitness Model

Out of the Cobwebs: Thanksgiving Treats

Biker vs. Truckers:  The Battle for  Raging Hog BBQ

Musings from Valhalla: Happy Thanksgiving