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The Alpha Male 4


Shade

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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Juicers

Juicers. That’s what they’re called. Not every strongman is a juicer mind you. I’m not. And Mack isn’t either. But then neither Mack nor I are in any sense of the word ordinary. We got something special.

These guys? These juicers? Well they started out ordinary enough a lot of them. Maybe some of them were freaky to begin with like Mack and me. But the one thing they all had in common was that big and strong were two things they couldn’t get enough of. And if they couldn’t get more naturally then they would get there with the aid of some fine chemical assistance.

Before you jump to any conclusions, it’s not like there was one brand of super steroid out there. A lot of shit has been developed over the years. Chinese, Russians, and of course the Americans. But not just them. Developed during the Cold War mostly. They spent billions like it was Monopoly money. Most of the shit didn’t work. But I guess it was a classic case of what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Fucking strong.

Fifty years ago you could have had a pencil neck geek benching a ton.

We’ve moved on since then. Today’s juice, the stuff that was on the market in the twenty-first century for the discerning meathead, was vastly improved by new research and underground cash. Improved by private research labs. Seemed like there was always some new shit on the market. Go capitalism!

And it made for some mean motherfuckers. Some strong motherfuckers.

CRACK!

My head twisted to the side with the force of the punch. I rubbed my jaw, working the muscle and tasting blood in my mouth. That punch? Yeah, that one I felt.

The prick opposite me was a juicer. You could always tell. Even the weaker ones would have been big enough and strong enough to do a fuck ton of damage. They had a look about them. And not just cause they were powerful looking fuckers. No, it was a quality and hardness about their muscle.

And this particular juicer had just thrown a right hook at my titanium jaw. He did well to hide it, but I saw by the involuntary flex of his fist that he’d taken some pain for that shot. Maybe even broken some knuckles.

About time too. I was starting to get bored of this fight.

I grinned back at him. It was a pretty evil grin. The kind of grin that lets a guy know you’re coming for him. Not just coming for him, but gonna fuck him up. Fuck him up so bad his unborn children will feel it.

He took a step back, and his wrist spasmed again. Oh yeah. My jaw had caused his hand a lot more damage than his fist had caused me.

I casually brushed the dust over my bare pecs, and looked up at the arena. The stands were pretty crowded and the audience roared with approval. They’d seen me at work already over the last couple days, and they knew what to expect. I didn’t like fighting. Not at all. But Mack convinced me it was a good idea. Helped, as he put it, to make sure my fighting skills were in order. And when the big boss gave me an order, I followed it. Not because Mack would beat the shit out of me. Because he’d never actually been stronger than me when I knew him. But rather because he was the smartest fucker I knew. And I owed him everything.

My opponent put his arms back up into a defensive position. In the Circuit the rules for the fights were pretty simple. Bareknuckle and whatever it took. And the fight didn’t end until a guy was either on the ground or he tapped out.

Fuck yeah. I felt myself get just a little bit hard at the thought of the power in my body. I was aching to unleash just a little bit of the hell I had in me.

Before he even knew what I was about I was on him. I threw a couple weak punches to his gut. It would be no fun to finish him off too fast. He tried to strike back, but he didn’t reckon on what he was dealing with. The few hits he landed were pathetic by his standards, but I was getting bored of this and I wanted to end it quickly.

A couple more lightning strikes to his stomach and I could hear him groaning. Awww yeah. The thrill of the fight, and the victory was at hand. One. Two. His ribs cracked. Another punch to the guns. I hit him hard. He started to lose his balance, and his guard cracked…not that it would have mattered.

My left fist came up then in an upper cut and the juicer was toast. The force of my punch, hardly my strongest, sent him flying up into the audience.

He landed on another bunch of juicers in the stands, and they showed no sympathy whatsoever. With howls of laughter they threw his wasted form back into the pit, where he lay unconscious. I was pretty sure I hadn’t killed him when I hit him. But sometimes even I don’t know my own strength.

“If you can’t play with the big boys then you shouldn’t get in the ring,” said a voice next to me.

I turned to see the referee surveying the damage. Referee was a pretty loose appellation. It’s not like he got in the way much. As I’ve said there aren’t a lot of rules. But I was the only man standing, and he so lifted my arm in victory.

The crowd erupted in cheers and I basked for a moment in the fleeting glory of it all. They liked me well enough because I always won. And I was starting to develop quite a reputation as the man to beat.

Pumping my arm in the air a few times, I finally walked away into the bowels of the mine under the makeshift stands.

This competition was being held in an abandoned mining town in the Rockies. Iron Mine it had been called. And it was aptly though ironically named for in Colorado’s past it had once been a silver mine, not an iron mine. Originally dug in the late 1890s, most of the developments were abandoned by 1917. By which time there was a great deal of water in the deep mine and bad air.

For the purposes of the Circuit it was perfect, and prepared like an Olympic venue. So what had been a ghost town was now a hive of activity.

Mack’s big frame was leaning against the wall as I walked through and he tossed me a towel.

“Five minutes,” he said, grinning, his Scottish accent think and broad. “That’s a new record even for you.”

“Sad thing was I was toying with him.” I sighed. “If I’m gonna compete they really should send me someone I’m not going to knock down right away.”

“Ah lad,” he said, his good humour coming out in his tone of voice. “You’re still new to the sport kiddo. You can’t just expect to walk onto the Circuit and fight whomever you like.”

I grunted my acknowledgement, but it still felt a bit like a waste of effort. Not that I’d put in that much effort. Barely broken a sweat. He wrapped his big arm around my head, and I felt his solid guns against my neck. Guiding me towards the exit.

“Let’s go and get the champ a pint. I’m buying the first round.”

“Well there’s a first time for everything!” I smirked at him, unable to resist.

Mack hauled off and punched me in the arm to pay me back for my cheek.

Now that one I felt.

* * *

They had a place near the edge of town that passed for the local pub while the contests were on. Most of the guys in town were big guys like Mack and me, whether or not they were juicers. A lot of guys wanted to compete. Especially in the, shall we say, minor league categories. Guys like me were far too strong for those events. We competed in the so called major leagues. Just meant that if you couldn’t bench at least a ton you weren’t gonna be entered. Beyond that though it got tougher to know how strong a man was. Not everyone was always honest about their true power. And with juicers, well the quality of the juice could affect performance.

I slammed back another beer and wiped some of the excess out of my beard. I’d gotten tired of shaving so often and allowed myself some growth. My body had muscle on muscle, but the hair on my face gave me a certain aura and I found some of the guys were less likely to try and call me out. They didn’t take me for some kid, but treated me with a bit more respect.

“What do you reckon Mack?” I asked him as he hung up his cell phone. He took a drink from his glass and his mouth started to turn upwards in a smile.

“How do you feel about a title fight tonight?”

“Title fight? I thought you said I had to work my way up?”

“Funny thing is he asked for you.”

I knew I was getting well known on the Circuit, but not that well known.

“You’d be fighting for Superheavyweight Championship on the American Circuit,” elaborated Mack.

I whistled. Those were big leagues indeed.

“Who’s the champion?”

“I don’t know him. Some younger lad apparently,” Mack said. “He just won the title a week ago apparently. Fresh from victory.”

“And he’s ready for a challenge to his title so soon?”

“Just so. I knew the former champ pretty well. He was one big, tough cunt. Part of an American strength project in the nineties. I’d never met a meaner man, or a stronger one. Except you maybe. Name of Salvador. Jorge Salvador. He’d have served jail time if they could have built one that could have held him. Willy, the promoter, tells me this new kid handed Jorge his ass and then demolished what was left of him.”

“Sounds like a mean fucker!” I said, trying to play it cool. But inside I felt the tingles in my stomach, signalling my excitement at an impending contest I could really enjoy.

“Well I’ve trained you as well as I can. But don’t fuck up or it’ll reflect badly on me.” He sounded serious but there was a twinkle in his eye, and I knew that beneath it all there was a genuine warmth and a real concern for my welfare.

After a pause Mack added, “Be careful lad. I know you’re one strong fucker. And with men like us I know there is no way you’d be willing to sit your life on the side lines. Hell I wouldn’t respect you if you did. But the trouble is that you’re not accustomed to losing. And you’ve become like family to me. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

My heart grew about three sizes and I actually felt my throat tighten with emotion. Mack was old enough to be my father, and he’d been that and more to me. But I don’t think I’d ever heard him express that much emotion in one go. He was too subtle by far.

“C’mere old man,” I told him. Unexpectedly squeezing him in my arms. “I won’t let you down. I promise.”

* * *

I had some time to kill before the fight. Mack made sure I’d had plenty of food, so I wasn’t exactly starving…yet. I figured I’d go walk off some of the nervous excitement.

Like most of the men around I was shirtless.

As I crested over the ridge I could see the tents up for the various interests in the competition. A temporary arena had been constructed at the side of the town. I could see the big men who were competing and their associates wandering around.

Men heaved and lifted a variety of heavy objects in makeshift gyms set up around the town, testing their mettle. Moving my eyes over the lot I could see men wrestling in another part of town. Attempting to use their strength to get a handle on their opponents and overpower them. There were plenty of these weight pits around, and improvised equipment like Zek had at the Snake for training.

I used them myself earlier and done enough to give me a pump. I’d also run up to the old granite quarries nearby over the last couple days to continue the onslaught on my muscles I’d started at the rail yard over a week ago. I was determined to improve my strength as much as possible.

I was the strongest that I’d ever been. And I felt ready for this fight.

That’s when I was pushed from behind. It was no love tap either. I took a step forward to balance myself, and turned to give hell to the man who had the balls to give me shit.

“Fuck! You better run or else I’m gonna fuck you up man!” I growled as I caught sight of the big fucker behind me. Didn’t take me five second to recognise him. Jack.

“How’s it going kid?” He asked.

It was Jack alright, but he was a hell of a lot bigger then when I saw him a few weeks ago.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Trying out some new juice,” he replied rather smugly and crossed his arms over his pecs. I gotta admit, he was looking pretty damn swole. Actually a hell of a lot bigger than when I’d seen him at the Snake. “It’s a lot more powerful than any shit I ever tried before. Got me repping out those sixteen ton presses just like you did. In fact I can do twice as many as you now.”

“That a fact?” I asked rhetorically, cocking my head. I wasn’t that impressed since I’d moved from cement filled Hummers on to benching over three hundred ton worth of trains.

“When did you start this shit?”

“A week ago,” he grinned, unable to resist pumping his big guns into a double bicep. Those fuckers were etched with every mark of the juice. But they were also pretty fucking huge.

I whistled my appreciation, but I wasn’t about to let Jack’s ego get the better of the situation.

“You still look like a pussy to me.”

Jack shot right up into my face. Pecs to pecs, and nothing but raw muscle and testosterone. I’ll give him one thing, he’d become a very big boy very quickly as the juicers were often wont to do. But I wasn’t giving ground. Not one fucking inch. I felt him hit me like a truck. He grabbed me and I reached back, suddenly in a wrestling hold with our hands gripping each other’s shoulders. We pushed against each other. Pushed hard. He’d had the advantage and he tried to press it home, but he found that I didn’t go anywhere. And I felt at last enough of a challenge to use my strength.

I lifted him up in the air enough that he lost his footing, and then I flipped him onto the ground. To his credit he fought hard as we wrestled. Jostling me and getting grips that I would break. We were already near the edge of town, and neither watching where we were going. As I rolled him onto his back, he managed to use my momentum against me and suddenly we found ourselves inadvertently rolling down the bank of a steep ravine into an overgrowth of woods next to the abandoned town. On the way down I’d lost my advantage momentarily, and I felt Jack press his luck as he managed to twist his arm around my neck into a head lock.

On another man he could have crushed their neck or at the very least put them to sleep. I wasn’t another man though. He poured on power, and I felt it. But I also reached up and pulled. Jack’s muscle resisted, but in the end it was no match for me.

“FUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK!”

He howled his frustration but as his arm was pulled free and there was nothing he could do to stop me. He tried desperately to cling on to me, but I held his arm. And spun him around. I forced one arm behind his back, almost to the breaking point.

He howled, but as I applied pressure that could crush granite, so he couldn’t move. My other arm forced him into the trunk of a mighty oak tree. And I pressed him there, pinning him to the tree.

“Think you’re a tough man Jack?” I whispered in his ear. My breath hot on his neck. “No matter how big you get. Or how much juice you inject into those little balls of yours. You will always be half the man I am. And that is why you’ll always be my bitch Jack.”

He roared, and I pressed him so hard into the tree that the timber began to buckle.

With my free hand I reached to his jeans, and tore them down. His button fly busted as his naked ass was exposed.

“Going commando Jack? And you’ve been training just for me pussy boy. Haven’t you?” I was already hard from wrestling, and my cock was dripping now. I quickly undid my own jeans. “Fuck yeah, that juice has got these glutes of yours nice and thick. Bet this is gonna be the tightest fuck I’ve ever had.”

“You’re…not…fucking…me…this…time….” He groaned against me.

I pressed against his glutes and he clamped them shut. I expected access as easy as I’d had before. But they were like a fortress of iron, and they forced my big cock upwards into the valley they made.

I tried thrusting several more times, but I couldn’t penetrate him. Unbidden the memory of the night at the Snake came back to me. Each time I thrust, I didn’t penetrate him being forced against him instead. Grunting, I heard him laugh as he realised what my problem was. It was a very knowing chuckle. I squeezed harder and his chuckle turned to a moan of pain.

“Wanna bet pussy boy?”

This time I reached down to make sure that my cock was aimed for his hole and with the power of my own body I wedged myself in there.

“No…no….no…” he muttered. He didn’t have any idea. Not really.

His muscle was strong, but my muscle was stronger. Stronger by far. I felt myself break him. If he wouldn’t give in willingly, then I would take it. To the victor go the spoils. And I was mighty worked up.

Once I got started I wasn’t stopping. His ass opened for me. It had no choice. I was wedged inside soon enough. Oh, and fuck was he tight! I felt my meat rip his hole apart for me as I took him inch after glorious inch slipping quickly, tearing my way inside, powered by my own massive glutes, I quickly enough felt my balls bang against him. I started thrusting. Forcing him into the tree. He started to moan and then I felt him relax around me.

His own massive cock rose in front of him. It ripped into the oak as I fucked him. Me fucking his hole, me fucking the tree through him. Jack started groaning, this time with pleasure. And I started grunting. I felt him shudder beneath me. The sensation in both his ass and cock bringing him to climax. I continued to pound him until I took felt my mighty balls start to heave, and lose their torrent of cum.

“FUCK!” I breathed as I leaned against Jack’s broad back. I released him as I pulled out of his ass.

He turned and pulled himself against me. I leaned down and kissed his waiting lips.

“I was hoping that you were still strong enough to take me.”

“I will always be strong enough to take you pussy boy.” I told him self-assuredly. But this time I also said it affectionately.

“We’ll see,” he growled. “I’m still training hard. Juicing hard.”

“I’m training hard too.”

He nodded. “Saw your last fight. You demolished that guy.”

“Got another fight tonight.”

“I’ll be there.”

I nodded my head back towards town. “Let’s go get some food. I’m starved. And then maybe I’ll fuck you again before it’s time for the fight.”

Jack grinned from ear to ear.

* * *

“You look awfully cheerful,” Mack said with an appraising eye. “Did you get some?”

“Let’s just say I ran into an old friend who was more than willing to accommodate my cock for a while.”

“Well I hope you’ve still got some fight left in you for tonight.”

“Don’t worry old man. I was just letting off some steam.”

We walked toward the arena and I could hear the roar of the crowd.

“Last fight before yours is on now,” Mack informed me as we walked into the staging area of the arena. We walked up to where we could see entrance. “Let’s go get introduced to the champ.”

We walked until we caught sight of the opposing side. There were some big dudes standing there in a bit of a huddle. The biggest one dwarfed the others. He was a tall blond man. His back was to me, but I figured this was the champ himself. Couldn’t be anyone else.

He was as wide as the side of a barn. And even I was impressed with not only his size, but his thickness. The mop of blond hair crowned a head that sat on top of a much thicker neck. But from the back it was hard to tell where the neck ended and the traps began. His engorged traps swept down a pair of massive shoulders and then into wings that looked fully extended even though he was standing casually. The lats formed a veritable anatomy chart of muscle. Until you reached his narrow waist. But even that was thickly packed with muscle. If you could tear your eyes from main part of his torso, you could attempt to focus your eyes and feast on the sides of beef hanging off his arm. Those were triceps, but in his case I’m not sure that word was sufficient. I licked my lips involuntarily taking it in.

Despite being naked from the waist up, he was wearing jeans. As was I. But it was clear that they barely contained those wheels. They were thicker than most men’s bodies, and even I couldn’t quite take my eyes of his thick, round glutes once I’d properly seen them. I wanted a piece of those even though I’d just fucked Jack six ways from Sunday. Literally.

No doubt about it. This dude was massive. Abso-fucking-lutely huge!

Even Mack was caught up short. “Fuck!” he breathed out in awe.

I had to admit something I’d never admitted before. There clearly was a bigger fish in the sea. And he was standing in front of me with his back turned. If he hit as hard as he looked like he could, I contemplated for the first time in a long time that I might not win. A chill went down my spine.

The man next to the champ saw Mack and I standing there. “Ah!” he said, in a heavily accented tongue. Eastern European or Russian from the sounds of it. “Here is the challenger.”

Well it looked like if I was gonna lose my first fight, if that was indeed the case, it was going to be to one of those Eastern European roidheads.

Maybe he wasn’t as tough as he looked.

I stood squarely, and crossed my arms over my chest.

What happened next shook me to my very core. The champ turned around. And I got a look at his face.

I knew that face.

This wasn’t some Eastern European juicehead. Fuck no. That face was etched in my nightmares. It belonged solely to the demon I thought I’d vanquished a long time ago.

Staring back at me was the bully of my youth. Billy Nickerson. And I could tell from his eyes that he knew exactly who I was too.

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