Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Rob vs. Zeke: No Contest


By Rob

Each Friday night, Rob offered a prize of $500 to any challenger who could defeat him in the gym.

Plenty of fools took the bait, hungry for the money. Each bout lasted until one of the fighters couldn't get up. No rounds, no referee. Rob's boxing gym was always full for the fights. And it wasn't just young men. Rob had a small army of adoring female fans. Beautiful young girls always flocked around the handsome, muscleboy fighter, and there were a lot of them in the crowd.

Rob put on a good show for his customers. He won all the fights by knockouts. But first he gave a spectacular display of muscle power. Rob climbed into the ring wearing a black robe. He raised his arms to acknowledge the shouts from the audience. Then he let the robe slide off his shoulders onto the canvas. The crowd gasped in unison as the light picked up his rippling slab-like muscles. Even for those who had seen him before, the sight of his perfect physique was always awe-inspiring.

Tonight's first challenger was already in the ring. His name was Zeke. When he removed his robe there was laughter from the audience. He was a thin guy with stringy muscles. The $500 prize-money must have sounded good to him. Maybe he thought he could win with a lucky punch.

Rob flexed his pecs a few times, making them jump one after the other. The women in the audience went nuts. The men were yelling too. Then Rob flexed both arms. His biceps swelled to the size of cannonballs. The audience erupted in cheers. They'd seen Rob in action and knew what he could do with those muscles. They clamored for him to destroy his skinny opponent.

Zeke was looking at Rob nervously. Still flexing, Rob turned toward him and smiled. It was the smile of a panther eager to rip his prey to pieces.

Zeke came out cautiously. They circled. Zeke threw a punch. Rob brushed it away with contempt and flicked a jab into Zeke's face. The punch looked effortless, but it had enough power to knock Zeke back a few steps. Desperate, Zeke ventured in and threw a punch to Rob's stomach. Rob let Zeke's glove bounce harmlessly off his steel-hard abdomen. Zeke look confused. He tried a few more punches to the midsection. Rob didn't even bother to block them. He just laughed.

Rob continued to box Zeke's head around. Using him for a human punching bag. Punishing him for getting into the ring. Putting on a show for the audience. The rowdy crowd was loving it, laughing and bellowing encouragement.

"Yeah! Hit him again! Harder!"

Zeke's face was swollen and bloody. He was weaving like a drunk. Rob sneered at him, "Now I'm gonna bring out the big guns. How's this feel?" Rob drove a left into Zeke's belly and bent him over. Then he straightened him up with a right uppercut.

There were "Oohs" and "Aahs" from the spectators.

Zeke staggered backwards. His eyes were wide with panic. Rob belted him in the face with a tremendous right. The skinny guy flew back across the ring and bounced off the ropes. On the rebound Rob caught him in the stomach with a right that lifted him off his feet. He held him like that for a while, Zeke's feet dangling and twitching. Then he lowered him, jerked out his glove and whipped it up into Zeke's chin. It connected with a loud crack. Zeke staggered back into the corner.

Rob closed in on his victim. Zeke cowered in the corner, paralyzed with fear. His swollen eyes pleaded for mercy. He raised his gloves to protect his face. Rob laughed. He sank a right deep in Zeke's belly, pinning him to the post. Zeke let out a shuddering sob as he collapsed against Rob's chest.

Rob pounded his opponent's thin body with powerful punches. The muscles in his wedge-shaped back bunched and rippled as his big arms pumped like pistons. The men in the crowd were yelling for blood. The women were squealing with excitement.

Rob shrugged his meaty shoulders. Smiling, he kissed both of his biceps. The yells and squeals got louder. Suddenly Rob spun around and hit Zeke with a brutal left hook. He continued pounding him with hooks, rights and lefts, jerking Zeke's head from side to side.

When he stopped hitting him, Zeke's head kept jerking. An uppercut knocked the skinny guy into the air and nearly out of the ring. Laying his left glove on Zeke's chest, Rob pressed him against the post. Zeke's head drooped down. He was barely conscious. Fright widened Zeke's eyes as he gawked at the massive mound of muscle. Sad puppy noises rose from his throat. His face looked like he was staring straight into Hell.

Rob held him propped against the post and cocked back his fist to administer the finishing blow. Rob let loose with a mighty right cross. It nearly tore off Zeke's head. Zeke was out on his feet. His face looked as if it had been caved in with a battering ram. Slowly he crumbled forward, his face hitting the canvas. His unconscious body quivered awhile before it stopped moving completely.

Squealing young women quickly surrounded Rob as he climbed out of the ring. They competed for his attention shamelessly. Females had always swarmed around him like bees around honey. The super strong sexy muscleboy would take four or five of the cutest hotties for a good long victory fuck.

3 comments:

  1. Great story Rob. Only the strongest deserve the fair.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is the kind of fight I hope to be in one day, soon. Me, the overmatched wimp, fighting a strong, aggressive alpha male for women like Sue's(or others on this site) pleasure or entertainment. Of course, I would want to (at least) hear her enjoy the victory celebration with the winner afterwards, though I'd do it just to entertain the women.

    ReplyDelete

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