Challenge 009: Rick vs Mani

Daddy's new toy boy is yet to learn how to behave...

Who will win between Rick and Mani? Use the comments to place your bet before the fight is published!

Round 008: Office Politics - Nick vs Marcus

 

It took a lot to get him riled but Marcus was shaking with fury and barely holding back tears of anger. He watched as Miller disappeared around the corner for the last time. For the past few years they’d sat side by side in the open planned office, fast become more than just colleagues. Miller had become a good friend too, but now that’s all he was.

Marcus dropped into his seat and sat there rocking back and forth, trying to calm down. Over the partition, he could hear Nick laughing softly at some joke told by the person at the other end of the phone. No doubt one of the executive wives he’d been flirting with as he weaselled his way up the corporate ladder.  Miller was just the last victim in a line of good workers and great guys to be given the flick thanks to Nick’s never ending whispers in the bosses’ ears.

Marcus loosened his tie and struggled out of his suit jacket, throwing it onto his desk. He couldn’t leave yet. He couldn’t bear running into Miller in the parking lot.  That would be too hard.  He’d wait another ten minutes to be sure Miller had gone.

Nick laughed again and whispered “See you tonight then,” before hanging up the phone.  Marcus could picture the brown-noser sitting back in his chair and smugly running his fingers through his perfectly highlighted hair.  Marcus felt like he was going to explode.

“Fuck it!” he snapped to no one in particular. He punched the divider that separated his desk from Nick’s and stormed around to the other side.  “You really just don’t give a shit, do you?!” he barked.

“Hey, easy big boy,” Nick grinned. “What’s on your mind?” As if he didn’t know!

Marcus clenched his fists and he saw Nick’s eye’s drop momentarily to them.

“You mean Miller?” Nick asked. “Yeah, that was sad. But like the boss said, we gotta cut costs. He was the weakest link.”

“Bullshit!” Marcus snapped. “You know who the weakest link is? You are! If you stuck your nose any further up anyone’s arse, you could save on the solarium!”

Nick laughed and stood up. “Looks like you’ve made up your mind about me.  It’s not worth wasting my breath. No matter what I say, you’re not going to believe me.” 

Marcus glared his response, so Nick continued.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you angry. You know what we call you when you’re not around? Mighty Mouse – because you’re the most timid thing here.  I’m impressed. You’re kinda scary when you get worked up. I like it.” But his grin told Marcus he was being toyed with.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“You wanna take it outside?” Nick asked.  “Or wait… I’ve got a better idea.  Follow me.”  He brushed pasted Marcus, deliberately bumping shoulders, and didn’t look back.

“Don’t walk away from me!” Marcus roared, causing the last of the office stragglers to look up startled.  Marcus stormed after Nick, catching up with him in the elevator, which Nick was patiently holding open for him.

“You want a piece of me?  I’ll give it to you, but first I wanna show you something,” Nick smiled.  “There’s just one rule I have – keep off the face.  We’ve both gotta work tomorrow, so no bruising the face. Anywhere else can be hidden under clothing.  Personally though, I find fisticuffs a bit school yardish.  I prefer a good scrap the old fashioned way. You know – man on man. Pin him down and make him your bitch?!” 

Nick laughed. His calmness, especially against the backdrop of piped muzak seemed surreal and in complete contrast to Marcus’ fury.

Nick produced a key and turned it in the elevator control panel. The elevator stopped half way between the top two floors and the doors opened to reveal a new level. 

“Come on,” Nick grinned and strode away before Marcus could make any comment. 

Half way down the corridor, Nick opened a door and waited for Marcus to catch up. He motioned Marcus inside and then followed, sealing the door behind them.

The room’s floor was padded, as were the walls on all four sides.  The fluoro lighting was stark, and four security cameras peaked out from the corners of the roof, covering every inch of the room.

“What is this?” Marcus asked.  He turned around just as Nick grabbed him and slammed him back into the wall, pinning him with an arm across the throat.

“This,” he said, “is my arena. I was starting to think you would never man up. But now that you have, you can show me what you’re made of.”

“What…?!” Marcus’ mind raced as he tried comprehending this odd turn of events.  An arena? At work?

Nick released his hold and tore open Marcus’ shirt. He reached in and locked a steal hold on Marcus around his armpits, just above the pecs.  Marcus cried out.

“The fight has begun, Mickey Mouse. You wanted a piece of me? Now’s your chance.” Nick stepped back and pulled Marcus from the wall, throwing him across the room.

As Marcus stumbled to his knees and turned to look back over his shoulder, Nick was casually removing his tie without a care in the world.  Marcus roared and charged at Nick, ramming a shoulder into Nick’s gut.  They crashed into the wall and Nick slammed his forearm down on Marcus’ back.  Marcus dropped to his knees and Nick locked his head between his legs.

Marcus let out a muffled cry while Nick returned to removing his tie and shirt as though nothing had happened. At length, he opened his legs to let Marcus out and pushed him over backwards.  Marcus looked up and his eyes widened at the site of Nick’s smooth, chiselled body.

“You know,” Nick said, removing his shoes and tossing them into a corner. “Better men than you have tried to bring me down. Remember Angelo? The Italian Stallion that half the chicks wet their panties over? Turns out he was more like a Shetland Pony.  And when I took him down and stripped him bare…well, let’s just say that he definitely took steroids.”  He clucked with mock disapproval and stepped towards Marcus, who tried to scuttle away like a crab.

Nick grabbed Marcus by the hair and lifted him to his feet.

“Your turn,” he smiled.

He took Marcus’ arm and spun him around, but Marcus suddenly reversed the hold and sent Nick slamming back into the wall.  Marcus charged but Nick caught his hands locking them in a power vice.  Marcus slammed his chest into Nick’s and forced the bastard’s hands back against the wall crucifying him against the cushioning.

“Nice move,” Nick grinned. “But now you’re just turning me on.”  He thrust his chest harder against Marcus’ and his arms exploded with muscle as he began forcing his arms forward.  Marcus strained to keep Nick pinned but his strength was unmatchable.

As Marcus began arching back, his knees buckling, Nick changed grip, twisting Marcus over and landing him face up across his knee.  Marcus cried out as his lower back felt the pain of the back breaker.

“If you’re naughty enough,” Nick teased, “I might even roll you over and slap your arse a few times. Would you like that, eh?!”

He removed Marcus’ tie and thew it over his own shoulder before tearing open the remainder of Marcus’ chest.  The light layer of hair that coated Marcus’ defined torso thrust upwards into Nick’s taunting fingers.

Nick bounced his knee a few times causing Marcus to gag in agony. It felt as though his back would snap and the pain was too great for him to move.  Nick loosened his belt, removing it and tossing it aside.

Next his pants were loosened before Nick finally rolled Marcus off his knee. Marcus groaned, thankful for the respite but Nick grabbed at him immediately, removing his shirt, shoes and pants.

Marcus kicked out and tried scrambling away. He was down to underwear and socks now and feeling very exposed.  He ripped off his socks so he wouldn’t slip and staggered to his feet, using the wall for support.

Nick came at him and he raised his hands for protection. Nick walloped him in the gut instead.  Marcus doubled over and Nick slipped in behind him, hooking Marcus’ right arm behind his neck then dropping them both backwards onto the floor.  Nick’s legs hooked under Marcus’, forcing them apart.  An arm cut across Marcus’ throat, forcing his head back, and leaving him guillotined across Nick’s body.

Once again, Marcus couldn’t move.  Nick threw a few light punches into Marcus’ gut in quick succession, then slapped at Marcus’ exposed pecs before clawing them mercilessly.  Marcus cried out but any attempted to pull free just applied more pressure across his throat.

“I can’t even begin to tell you all the things I could do to you from here,” Nick whispered in his ear, flicking a finger at Marcus’ dick.  Marcus jumped at the unexpected touch and Nick laughed. “You know, if it wasn’t for the cameras I’d be taking this a whole lot further right now.”

Marcus turned his head in surprise and their eyes locked, only inches apart.

“Oh yeah,” Nick smiled.  “Didn’t I tell you?  You’re being recorded. This is your audition. You’re part of the club now.”

“What club?” Marcus wheezed as Nick’s palm began sliding over his chest. “What are you talking about?”

“You think the Company is called ‘Spartan’ by chance?!  There’s a whole underground scene going on, and with your pretty boy features and the way you suffer so nicely, you’re gonna be a huge hit with the punters!”

“I don’t want…”

“Nah!”  Nick snapped, cut him off by pressing down on his throat. “You brought the fight to me, remember.  There’s no turning back now.”  He released Marcus and pushed him away, rising to his knees and allowing Marcus to do the same. “You wanna know why all your friends are getting sacked? Notice that it was only the guys being given the boot? It’s because they took the challenge, then wimped out. The Company doesn’t like quitters.”

“That’s a lie!” Marcus spat and swung a punch.  Nick caught it mid air and slid in close, wrapping his other arm around Marcus’ waist. The sweat on Marcus’ skin lubricated their touch and their chests slid against each other seductively.

“When this is over,” Nick said, starring Marcus in the eye and lowering his tone to an almost romantic swoon, “you’re going to have a choice.  You either join us and have a job for life, or you say ‘no’ and get shown the door.”

He bowled Marcus over and came down on top of him, pinning him to the floor. “You’ll be paid for your silence, of course, but you’ll never work here or with anyone we deal with ever again.”

Marcus strained up, but Nick’s strength was too great, leaving his arms pinned by his head.

“Let me give you some time to think it over,” Nick said and slid Marcus’ hands high above his head. He locked them in place with one hand, and whipped the tie off his shoulder, proceeding to bind Marcus' wrists despite his struggles.  Nick then held Marcus' arms down with one hand and used his free hand to cover Marcus’ mouth and nose.

Marcus’ eyes widened as his oxygen supply was suddenly cut off.  He twisted and stained desperately, but Nick lay on top of him riding the thrashing like a rodeo champion.  Marcus’ lungs burnt hotter and hotter and the face above him began to blur and dissolve.

Every sensation was heightened and in the final moments before Marcus lost consciousness he felt Nick’s warm breath on his cheek like a summer’s breeze and the grating of Nick’s chiselled torso against his like an erotic massage.  But the last thing he felt was his own dancing cock and he knew when he woke, he’d have a job for life.

Story outline and characters were suggested by MC. Send your ideas to grapple at myway dot com

Challenge 008: Nick vs Marcus

A workplace dispute uncovers a hidden agenda...  

Who will win between Nick and Marcus? Use the comments to place your bet before the fight is published!

 

Thanks to MC for the challenger pics and story request. This is our first fight by request!  If you'd like to pitch a fantasy fight, email grapple at myway dot com

The Paragons

Gay superheroes face their ultimate challenge!

Join the world's greatest superheroes as they face their ultimate challenge...

From the author of "Raunchy Rassling" comes an ongoing serial of sex, seduction, and super-powered brawling!

Enter the arena at
www.theparagons.blogspot.com

Round 005: Festive FurTree Face-Off - Ivan vs Joel

The Santa suits were barely PG. The red lycra shorts clung to their skin, revealing every bulge, while the oversized, button-less red jackets with the white woollen lapels hung loosely over their torsos, held on by the silk red strap that wrapped around their waists.

Glimpses of their furry chests sent the expectant audience into a frenzy. Dance lights and the techno beat had already worked them into a sweat, but now, with a few drinks under their belt and lust in their groins, they surged against the barricades to witness the annual charity FurTree Face-Off.

The nightclub pulsed, but those in the know had already stopped dancing and were crowding the arena to ensure a good view. Even those not involved with the local bear club turned out for this annual Festive muscle-bear event.

Last year’s champ, Ivan, was a demonstration of muscle over mass, taking down the reigning champion, the 230-pound Colossal Cub. This year, he was facing crowd favourite, Joel, a community worker who had quickly won the hearts of many since moving here to take the Director role of a local community charity. His leadership had earned him the respect of the community, while his and sex appeal had stolen the hearts of almost as many.

Regardless of who won, the money raised would go to charity but Ivan knew that he was fighting both an opponent and an entire community this time. By popular vote, they wanted Joel to win, and Ivan struggled with the idea of throwing the fight for the sake of charity.

That said, the ticket money went to the same charity regardless of who won.

In their sexy Santa suits, the contenders stepped into the ring. Testosterone filled the air as the surrounding crowd cheered to the MC’s announcement of their names and stats.

Joel threw off the Santa hat as his name was announced, delighting a glamorous drag queen who caught the discarded cap. With deliberate eroticism, he gyrated to the music as he untied the silk strap and stripped off the Christmas jacket to the appreciative audience. He discarded the Santa jacket, retaining the silk belt to twirl it like an entertainer.

As reigning champion, Ivan was announced second, and copied the routine, stripping off his Santa hat then jacket for the roaring audience. He was amazed at how loud they sounded over the thumping background music that entertained the patrons on the dance floor in the adjoining room.

Ivan twirled the silk strap like a stripper, almost mirroring Joel’s own routine. His eyes ran over Joel’s torso and he could easily see why Joel was the favourite. In other circumstances, he would gladly have submitted to such a hunk.

The circular arena was small, made from a shallow plastic kid’s swimming pool. But it was enough space for a grapple, and sturdy enough to withstand the slippery oil coating layered on the plastic.

Ivan breathed deeply, retracting his taut stomach and accentuating his powerful chest. Joel grinned; his stocky frame oozing its own sturdy power. They crouched and circle, eyeing each other off.

Joel dove deep, grabbing Ivan’s legs, and Ivan immediately wrapped his arms around Joel’s waist. They grappled for dominance and Joel grabbed Ivan’s ankle’s, ripping his legs from under him. Ivan’s back hit the floor and Joel hauled his legs up and over, sandwiching him against the floor.

Ivan grunted, then crossed his arms and swung his silk strap over Joel’s head. As he pulled out, the strap cut across Joel’s throat, choking him.

Joel’s eyes widened and he pressed his own strap across Ivan’s throat. Ivan gagged and tightened his own choke on Joel.

It was a battle of endurance, but Ivan had got in first. Joel released his choke and grabbed at the strap that squeezed against his throat.

Ivan used the distraction to throw Joel off him. Joel hit the ground gasping and Ivan pounced on top of him. He grabbed Joel’s arm and twisted it behind his back. Joel yelped as Ivan held it firm and wrapped the silk belt around his wrist.

With no thought of compassion, Ivan grabbed Joel’s other arm and forced it behind his back, tying it firmly with the strap too.

Joel cried out as Ivan turned him over. His arms were tied behind his back, rendering him helpless and exposed to Ivan’s advances.

Ivan sat on his stomach and looked down on his prey. With a victorious smile, he grabbed Joel’s pecs and massaged them roughly. Joel groaned, squirming against the torment and trying to free his arms. Ivan taunted Joel with a few light punches to his stomach, then flexed his biceps in victory.

Joel struggled, but was trapped. Ivan grinned and began roughly massaging Joel’s chest again.

“It’s up to you,” Ivan offered as his thumbs tickled Joel’s nipples. Joel thrashed, but couldn’t break free of the straps.

“Give up?” Ivan asked.

“I give!” Joel cried, even as he strained against the straps that bound his arms.

Ivan smiled, and leaned down to plant a kiss firmly on Joel’s lips.

Joel arched, pinned but happy as his broad, furry chest arched up to rub against Ivan’s. He was hard and willing, knowing that beyond this public display, they would satisfy their urges in private.

Ivan flexed again, and slid up Joel’s chest to force his groin in Joel’s face. The lascivious crowd roared, hoping for a live sex show, but that would later, after the commentator had announced Ivan victorious.

Round 003: Thirst - Carlos vs Buyu

Buyu massaged the cool water into his aching muscles and turned to let the spray of the waterfall moisten his face. The stiffness felt good. He was a man now, and the aches echoed the challenges he’d faced and conquered in his initiation rites. Now, in the isolation of the jungle, far away from his tribe, he faced the final obstacle of loneliness and survival. His triumphant return in twelve night’s time would let him join the ranks of men that kept his people fed and safe and proud. He couldn’t wait.

He opened his eyes, turning away from the spray and a movement caught his eye; just a slight one by the water’s edge. He swam a little closer until he could see a white, soiled carcass on the ground. Was it an animal? Could the Gods have brought him his supper without having to hunt?

He emerged from the river, brown skin glistening in the spotted sunlight that flickered through the surrounding trees. The creature was a white man, wrapped in torn cloth, dirty and unconscious. He was face down in the dirt, one pale arm outstretched as though he’d been crawling towards the water. Buyu hesitated. He’d never seen a person with such pale skin!

Cautiously, he approached and crouched down at the top of the man’s head. Buyu prodded the figure’s shoulder. The man groaned and Buyu fell back on his arse in surprise. Yes, it was definitely a man, deformed as his skin colour may be. Perhaps there was a tribe nearby that he knew nothing of? Perhaps this man had failed his initiation and was forced to leave the safety of his people?

Various thoughts ran through Buyu’s mind but the loudest was that of his father’s, telling him that the injured and the weak must always be protected. He crouched again and hooked an arm under each of the man’s pulling the figure towards him. Buyu would lift the man up and carrying him back to the campsite.

The man was heavy, and Buyu heaved, sliding the semi-conscious figure towards him. From between Buyu’s legs, the man mumbled “water!” even as Buyu began dripping over the back of the man’s neck. He didn’t understand the word but suddenly the man’s lips were on his thigh, sucking the clear liquid from Buyu’s skin.

Buyu yelped in surprise and toppled backwards, his grip pulling the man over him like a blanket.

“Water!” the man groaned again as his face fell into Buyu’s chest. Dry lips began sucking on Buyu’s torso almost immediately. Buyu froze, his body electrified by the unexpected sensation; his nakedness hiding nothing of his reaction. His mind raced, exploding with sensations he’d yet to encounter and then suddenly panic set in. He threw the white man off and scrambled to his feet, running back into the river for safety. He was panting, and his hand subconsciously reached up to touch the lingering tingles on his skin.

The white man lay on his back unable to move, and there he stayed until Buyu finally returned to him. Taking great care not to let the man’s face near his skin, Buyu dragged him from behind this time, all the way back to his camp.

Days past and the man’s thirst and hunger subsided, although he was still weak and spent much time in sleep. Buyu had discarded the man’s ruined cloths. Until he recovered, the man had no need to protect his midsection from prickly vegetation. And while he lay there in sleep, Buyu got to sit and watch over him, occasionally reaching carefully to touch the islands of hair that covered much of the man’s body. It was hair different to the short, curly sprinkles on the men of his own tribe, and Buyu was fascinated by the difference.

In fact, there was much about this man that fascinated Buyu. During one, lucid moment, he thought the man was trying to communicate with him, pointing to himself and saying “Carlos” over and over. Buyu assumed that must be his name.

And even when hunting for that night’s meal, Buyu couldn’t help but replay those initial sensations that had been caused by the man’s mouth. He knew now that Carlos had been trying to drink water from him, but how can drinking cause such a feeling?

Finally, he could wait no longer to find out. Carlos was still weak, but healing nicely, so Buyu decided to recreate the sensation; to understand what it was that he’d felt. If he could make that intensity return, he may have learned a skill to take back to his tribe!

He gathered water in a bowl that he’d carved from a fallen tree. Splashing his chest with the water, Buyu leaned over the sleeping figure and waited while the water dripped on Carlos’ face. Carlos stirred, but nothing happened, so Buyu leaned closer. No response.

Perhaps Carlos was still too weak, Buyu thought, so he sat beside his ward and gentle lifted Carlos up, holding the man’s face into his chest. This time Carlos stirred, reaching around Buyu to grasp his shoulders. Carlos tried turning his head away but Buyu used force to hold it in place.

Carlos gasped, his open mouth inadvertently capturing Buyu’s nipple, causing the young tribesman to gasp in return. Buyu pressed his pec harder into Carlos’ gaping mouth and he felt a tongue scrapped over the tip of his tip. He jumped with surprise, letting Carlos go in the process.

Carlos looked up at Buyu and tried sitting up, but Buyu took this as a sign he wanted more. Buyu pushed him back down and lay on top of Carlos, pressing his chest into his face again. Carlos grabbed Buyu firmly now, trying to force him off. It was like a game, Buyu thought! A test of strength!

He snatched Carlos’ wrists and pinned them to the ground, high above his head. As Carlos arched, Buyu understood the gesture that he wanted the sensations returned, so he leaned down and sucked the pink nipples until he felt Carlos’ member begin to rise and throb beneath him. He knew now that he’d done the right thing and he slid forward again for Carlos to please him more. But Carlos snatched his hands free and wrapped his powerful arms around Buyu, rolling him over.

Buyu understood, and stretched his arms out above his head, just as he’d pinned Carlos’ arms down. Carlos grabbed Buyu’s wrists to hold them in place and slid up Buyu’s body to look him in the eye. Buyu smiled. The solid muscle on top of him, the soft glide of skin on skin as Carlos had moved… it all added to the new and powerful feelings he was experiencing.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and Buyu saw the challenge Carlos was issuing. The smile drained from Buyu’s face, and suddenly their lips met and Carlos kissed him long and hard. Buyu arched up, knowing now what that challenge was. At home, he’d seen his parents kissing, and the man was always in charge. Carlos was making himself in charge and Buyu had let himself be pinned down!

Buyu arched and squirmed, but Carlos’ grip was strong despite the man still being weakened by his ordeal. How much stronger would he be if he had not been weakened, Buyu wondered?! Their chests grated together and Buyu found himself getting harder and harder, the more he strained. Carlos too, seemed to be affected the same.

Carlos sat on Buyu’s chest now, drawing Buyu’s arms down to shoulder height, and securing them in place with his knees. Buyu eyed the thick, dancing shaft directly above him, wondering what was expected of him even as he kicked out trying to break free. Carlos took Buyu’s head, raising it and forcing the erection against Buyu’s lips.

Buyu didn’t understand, and bucked harder, throwing Carlos off balance. He pulled an arm free and struck out at Carlos, hitting him in the ribs. Using the element of surprise, Buyu rolled Carlos off and quickly positioned himself as Carlos had done, holding the white muscleman down with his knees. Carlos arched a little, but lay there as if in defeat, but in the man’s eyes, Buyu saw understanding, not defeat. The man wanted him on top, perhaps to show him what was expected.

He raised Carlos’ head and Carlos kissed Buyu’s thick dark foreskin. Buyu yelped as if struck by a jolt of lightening. Carlo’s arms came free, but instead of fighting back, Carlos grabbed Buyu’s sides and held him there. As Buyu looked down on Carlos confused, Carlos raised his head and wrapped his moist lips around Buyu’s thickened shaft.

If a deep voice could squeal, it would be sound that croaked out of Buyu’s throat. His head fell back, he arched dangerously, and he only stayed in place by the grace of Carlos’ grip. Buyu was blinded by a stirring so intense that he could neither think nor breathe. His body convulsed in sync with the long, moist strokes of Carlos’ lips. Like a distant observer, he became vaguely aware of Carlos’ hands sliding up his ribcage until they held him just under the armpits. Thumbs reached out to stroke Buyu’s nipples and it was then that it became too much.

Buyu threw himself off Carlos and scuttled out of reach. He sat there panting, eyes and mouth wide open, trembling as he looked back at Carlos. Buyu reached down to grasp his own cock and he stroked it a few times. It felt good, but nothing like what he’d just been through.

Carlos smiled at him, propping himself up on one elbow and mumbling something unintelligible in his foreign tongue.

At length, Buyu regained composure. He was a man. He must not run away. And it wasn’t as though Carlos had been hurting him.

He crawled back to Carlos’ and lay down beside him. Carlos smiled and rolled over on top of Buyu. This time, Buyu let him. He had much to learn, and Carlos seemed eager now to teach him all he knew. Buyu told himself not to be scared. These pleasures were secrets of another tribe that he could bring back to his own people. And perhaps, once Carlos had taught him all he could, he would make himself the man again and force Carlos to satisfy him over and over again. But until then…

Buyu closed his eyes, his lips parting ever so slightly as Carlos’ warm breath was replaced by moist lips against his neck…

Challenge 003: Carlos vs Buyu

When a native tribesman discovers the unconscious body of a white man, water isn't the only thirst...

Who will win between Carlos and Buyu? Use the comments to place your bet before the fight is published!

Challenge 002: Don vs Max

Who will win between Don and Max? Use the comments to place your bet before the fight is published!