Wrestle

[Onyx]

(Boy) Wrestle
by Paul Smith (original version)
slightly modified by Onyx

These guys would eat those WWF guys for breakfast!


Mike Rippard had always been phenomenally successful at wrestling. Every single tournament he entered, he had won with ease. Now, he was about to face the world champion - Erik Llapovich. Mike Rippard limbered up in the locker room, flexing his tremendous muscles, jogging on the spot for a while. Breathtakingly shirtless, he wore a pair of tight fitting jeans and nothing else, not even underwear. His huge cock and balls jostled restlessly in his pants. He was soft, but still the tough fabric was nearly bursting at this seams as it struggled to contain his enormous package.

Mike reached for his dumbbells and held one in each hand. Needless to say, he had had to have the dumbbells made especially heavy to challenge his physique even a little. They were massive and made of concentrated lead. They weighed 50 tons each. Even so, Mike had very little difficulty in lifting them. He did 20 alternating bicep curls in rapid succession, his defined biceps bulging as he easily lifted the dumbbells. Mike was psyching himself up. He was going to win. He was going to WIN! Mike let off a yell and punched a locker beside him. His clenched fist tore through the metal like it were paper. He reached out with his other hand and lifted the locker above his head. Then, he rammed it against his head, bending it around his face like putty. Next, he held the twisted material in front of his and ripped it in half. 'I'm going to SLAUGHTER him,' he thought to himself, throwing the two halves away.

He turned and saw the manager. He looked shocked. And frightened.
"M-m- Mike R-rippard?"
"Yes little man?"
"I-if i-i-it's n-not t-t-too m-much bother, w-would y-you please g-go into
the r-r-ring n-n-n-now."
"I'm only too keen."
Mike turned towards the man, heading for the ring. The man backed uneasily
away, clearly fearing for his life. He had watched what this young man had done to
that locker. He knew when to keep quiet. Only a fool would approach Mike when
he was psyched. One such fool was Erik Llapovich.

The manager turned for his quarters. Each of the boys had been given separate changing rooms for fear of the damage they might do to the building's structure. The manager knocked on the door of Erik's suite.

Erik heard the knock and marched over to the door. He, too, was fully pumped. He reached for the door handle and pulled, not bothering to rotate the handle first.

"Uhhhhh!" he screamed, ripping the door from its hinges. The manager's jaw dropped.
"What do you want, puny one?" asked Erik Llapovich.

"You're w-wanted on s-stage," said the man, straining to control his fear
of this superstrong young stud.

Erik was wearing a dark blue speedo (with a specially enlarged front pouch) allowing most of his massively muscled body to be seen. He was young, beautiful and still only 19. But, even at that age, his dick was more than fully developed, and it lewdly strained his swimsuit to the breaking point. His muscles where enormous. His legs were as thick as tree trunks, his biceps bulged out to over 22" and pecs were two immense slabs of striated beef.

His biceps grew as he threw the manager aside, heading for the ring. As he strode away, the man examined his buttocks. They were striated, heavily muscled and clearly very strong. Tonight was going to be one hell of a match. They had had the ring especially strengthened - even a bomb wouldn't so much as scratch it.

In the arena the commentator announced:
"Please put you hands together for the challenger; it's the superbly developed, original muscle-man himself, Mike RIPPARD!!!"

The audience went wild. Mike kicked the steel doors open (even though they were bolted shut) and marched towards the ring. The spotlight followed him. To his
sides thousands of men and women tried to push past the railings, longing to touch him. The very same railings that held all of them back would pose no problem
for Mike, such was his physical prowess.

"And now, the current world champion; it's the muscle-boy with the stats that read like an algebra textbook, Erik LLAPOVICH!!!"

The crowd roared its approval, attempting to mob Erik as he headed for centre-stage. One managed to climb over. He dashed up to him and squeezed his genitals, his puny hand only capable of surrounding a small portion of his great sex tools. Erik grabbed his cuff and flicked him over his shoulder, slamming him against the wall above the door. With this demonstration of power, the crowd roared again.

"Do NOT touch me," warned the muscular nineteen-year-old, pointing towards the first casualty of the evening. He got up, a little dazed, and stumbled back towards his seat.

The two super-boys lifted themselves onto the stage and stood to face each other. Staring intensely into each other's eyes.
The announcer said:

"And now, boys, will you please remove your clothes."

The tradition of removing clothes had been started when it was realised that these young bodybuilders had become so powerful that there was literally no chance of them staying on, however strong the fabric. Also, since the sport had been primarily invented for turning on the crowd by showing them some serious male muscle, the contenders usually tried to remove their clothes as erotically as they could.

First, the spotlight fell on Mike. He ran a hand through his short cropped golden hairand grasped the waistband of his jeans. He breathed deeply and slowly and began to pull, gently ripping the fabric down the center. More and more of his gigantic legs were revealed until the ruined fabric just fell to the floor. He threw the two sweat stained halves into the audience. One man caught a half and smothered his face against it, licking up Mike's sweat. Next, Mike Rippard turned around performed a stark naked lat spread, the audience gasping at how his V-taper grew from an impossibly trim waistline to a vast expanse of rolling back muscles that would put a gorilla to shame. Even from behind his huge cock and balls were clearly visible between his mammoth legs. Mike flung his head back and soaked up the applause. His nude buns clenched together incredibly tightly, like two smooth, steel balls. This was greeted by rapturous applause.

As Mike lowered his arms to his sides, the spotlight panned across to
Erik. He did a perfect roundhouse, stretching his leg up towards his head,
tensing his butt cheeks powerfully. His overly-stretched speedo ripped and fell to the floor. The crowd cheered. The audience went wild, staring wide-eyed as the nineteen-year-old's massive cock was revealed. Sweat ran down it's enormous length, highlighted by the bright lighting.

"Well, I hope you'll agree ladies and gentlemen, that was the best pair of
strip-off's we've had all season. Now, the real fun begins."

The flood turned on, lighting up the arena clearly. Both Erik and
Mike's naked flesh could be easily seen. Both were limbering up; jogging on
the spot, flexing their huge biceps, stretching their massive legs.

"Are you ready boys?"

Both boys gave the thumbs up, and got into their positions.
"Remember: No rules. Ready...GO!!!"

The "no rules" rule was introduced when it was realized that no-one could
control these young studs if they wanted to - so why bother trying?

Mike was the first to move. his hands moved like lightning as he grasped
Erik's nude body tightly and lifted his from the ground. Then, Mike slammed his
down against the floor, denting the metal. Clearly, these boys were even
stronger than the manager thought.

Erik swept his leg underneath Mike, knocking his to the ground. Erik stood up and prepared to kick Mike Rippard with enough force to smash a concrete wall apart. He accelerated his massively-muscled leg towards Mike with amazing speed. Mike reached out and grabbed Erik's foot, stopping it in its tracks. Then, Mike lifted Erik from the ground (using only one hand) and threw his against the sides of the stage. Erik recovered quickly and reached beside him. He grasped one of the "reinforced" metal poles from the corner of the ring and ripped it from its fixings, tearing it like play-dough. He hit Mike hard over the head with it. It buckled around Mike's physique like plasticine. Mike tore the metal off his body and punched Erik in the stomach, sending him sailing out of the arena. He slammed against a wall, which cracked around him like sand.

Lifting himself off the ground, Erik turned around and punched a hole in the wall. Then, he snapped a large lump of concrete from the wall. He threw it at Mike. It shattered against Mike Rippard's thickly muscled pecs. Mike continued to walk towards Erik Llapovich, powering his way through the steel bars that ringed the arena. The metal buckled like tin foil. Erik did a massive jump, straight over Mike's head, up onto the stage. He thumped down, denting the metal again. Mike crouched down, making his bum flex erotically. The spotlight focused on this, making it reflect the light dramatically. His cock was so long that it hung far down between his legs, the great head of his dick resting on the cold floor. Mike slid his hands underneath the stage, forcing his fingers through the metal sides of the object. Then he started to stand up, all his muscles flexing erotically, tearing the ring from the ground. Erik fell to the floor, bouncing on his cartoonishly wide shoulder muscles and steel hard glutes. As he strained to lift the heavy stage above his head the crowd screamed: "Mike! Mike! Mike!"

Erik realized that if he was going to fight back, this was the time to do it. He sat on his haunches (making his striated buttocks startlingly obvious to the audience) the forced his hands into the arena's floor. The metal protested loudly. His cock suddenly jumped straight up, it's huge head slapping his skin slightly above his six-pack abs. All the muscles on his incredible body bulged, tearing the floor apart. Within seconds, Erik Llapovich had made a sizable hole in the steel. He jumped gracefully through, landing delicately. He ran towards Mike and rammed the nude boy backwards, into the stone walls. Again the concrete was severly damaged, several large fragments tumbling down on the overmuscled bodybuilders. They bounced off their finely honed physiques. Mike was still stunned, so Erik managed to grasp the shaft of his now fully erect cock and lifted him from the ground (using only one hand). Then, the muscular teenage boy threw him into the crowd. They caught him and started caressing his body, feeling his powerful glutes and gigantic cock.

"Get the fuck off me, before I kill the lot of you!" he screamed. And he meant it. Make no mistake, Mike was REALLY mad.

They dropped him and he charged off in the direction of Erik, knocking aside the people that were too slow to get out the way. He reached the thick metal barrier and grasped it in his hands. The fans stared, slack-jawed as he tore the metal rod clean in half, twisting the steel like putty. After he had walked through the torn metal, he sealed the rip, moulding the iron like wet putty.

Mike turned to face Erik. He sprinted up to him (his erect cock swinging as he ran) and grasped him by the base of his opponent's equally huge dick. Then, with the upmost of ease, he lifted Erik from the ground and threw his towards the exit. Erik flew straight through the door, the wood splintering around him. He was eventually stopped by a large juggernaut, leaving it with a large dent where his muscley buttocks had made impact. Erik stood up and dusted himself off. Next, he reached to his side and levered a car from the ground, holding it high above his head.

Suddenly, he flung it at Mike, letting off a loud grunt as he did so. The vehicle flew through the shattered door and rammed hard into Mike's strong figure. He was knocked backwards by the blow, and ended up underneath the heavy car. The spectators looked on in awe as the 2,500 lb car started to raise upwards, supported by a pair of tremendously muscular arms. When Mike Rippard had removed himself from the wreckage, he threw the car to the ground where it landed on its side. He looked really pissed off.

"I'm gonna kill you, Erik," as he said 'kill' he drew back a fist and punched the roof of the car hard. his fist distorted the metal roof severly, before tearing straight through and emerging from the bottom of the vehicle. The car was now just a mangled lump of metal. Someone in the audience wailed "My car!", but Mike didn't care - he could easily overpower any man.

Mike gritted his teeth and charged at Erik. He grasped his opponent's hugely swollen biceps and started to push him back. Soon, Erik was pressed against the wall. Mike pushed him straight through both drywall and solid concrete. Using the falling rubble as a distraction, Erik broke free of Mike's iron grip and dashed off to the entrance. It was a brightly lit corridor with stony walls.

Mike charged after his and rammed him against one of the walls. Erik shoved him back. All the time, the walls were crumbling like sand, falling apart around the sexy boys. They didn't seem to notice, or care, about the damage they were so easily doing. Erik lifted Mike from the ground and rammed his head against the wall, tearing through the concrete like paper. Then, Mike Llapovich threw Mike back into the main arena. Mike stood up, breathing deeply through his nose. He looked really pissed off.

Mike Rippard marched meaningfully straight towards Erik, pushing aside anything that got in his way. One such item was a TV camera. He grasped it so tightly that the iron buckled, lifted until it was above his head without even flinching, and then threw it against the wall, turning the camera into a useless pile of spare parts. Another camera was impaled on his thick cock and mercilessly humped until his cock blew completely through it and out the other side. Mike reached Erik, who was standing defiantly, hims chest puffed up, posing for the crowd.

Mike yelled and grabbed Erik's neck tightly. Then, slowly but surely, he lifted him from the ground, using only one hand. He continued to lift Erik upwards, pushing his head through the steel roof, the metal tearing around his beautiful face like play-dough. Erik kicked and yelled, thumping Mike hard in the chest. For a nineteen-year-old he packed quite a punch, and knocked Mike to the floor, allowing Erik to drop. Mike stood up, reached to his side, gritted his teeth and grasped a massive pole that went from the floor to the ceiling. Then, he ripped it from it fixings and wielded it like a massive baseball bat. He took a swing at Erik. Erik was knocked to the floor. Whilst Mike prepared to take another shot, Erik reached out and grabbed the metal rod. Then, he pulled at it as hard as he could. Mike had no intention of letting go, so the steel started to stretch, until it snapped with a loud 'twang!'. Erik stood up and took a shot at Mike with his half. Mike was knocked into the crowd. They mobbed him this time, a dozen hands reached out to feel his pecs, massage his butt, and worship his abs. At least three men dropped down to suck his huge, erect dick.

"I warned you," he said, before lifting two men with each hand clean off the ground and throwing them aside. The crowd moved closer to fill the gap, they were clearly Erik's supporters. He reached out with his hands and pushed the gang apart, knocking over two hundred men off their feet with ease. He headed for the barrier, pushing aside any stragglers. Then, he delicately leaped over the steel barrier and turned to face his opponent.

It was at this point that the RefBot decided to call it a draw. The referee was made a robot since the large number of casualties that had occurred when
human ones had attempted to do something that either wrestler disagreed with. The robot ones where made super-strong, so as not to have that problem.

The two muscular young men turned towards the robot and asked: "What did you say?"

"I declare this match a draw."

Mike and Erik drew back their fists in unison, and threw the strongest punch this world has ever seen. The robot exploded in a pile of transistors and buckled metal. Clearly, the designers had underestimated the superhuman strength of these boys. Having dispatched the robot, Erik and Mike went for each other's necks. They rolled about on the floor, throwing incredibly hard punches at each other. Occasionally one missed, and the ground was left with a deep hole in it.

As they rolled over and over each other, they pressed their bodies together, rubbing their huge cock and balls over one another. Both Mike and Erik suddenly realized that they were sexually excited. They stopped hitting each other.

"Why are we fighting?" asked Erik.
"For money, and to prove our strength."
"We've proved out strength, we've got our money."
"I don't want to stop, I'm too pumped. I have to get rid of this energy somehow."
"We could, you know..."
"Fuck?"
"Well... Yes."
"You're a homo?"
"Bi."
"So am I."
"Let's do it then."

Erik reached out and caressed Mike's massive cock. It swelled in his hands. Mike used his hand to rub Erik Llapovich's balls. Erik began to lick the nape of Mike's neck, exciting his "opponent" greatly.

"Oh...Yes!!" screamed Mike, thumping his hands down against the floor, denting it.

Mike Rippard fingered the muscular nineteen-year-old's cock and balls more ferociously now, making it swell up to its full length: a majestic 12 inches. Lying on top of Erik, he found the other boy's huge member actually lifting him upwards.

Mike orgasmed, spraying great jets of cum in between their thickly muscled bodies. Erik ran his hand between their deeply etched six-packs, slopping up of Mike's cum in between his fingers and gently licking it off. The wonderful taste and smell, combined with Mike's incredibly sexy body, pushed Erik closer to his own orgasm.

"Uhhhh!" yelled Erik, squeezing their huge bodies closer. Any other man's puny cock would have been reduced to a bloody pulp under their enthusiastic frotting. Huge car crushing machines couldn't apply as much force as these two young bodybuilder's were lovingly doing to each other.

The slit of Erik's fist sized cock started to dribble pre-cum down his massive legs, running onto the floor. Soon, the lovers were surrounded by a pool of their own steaming love juices.

Erik climaxed, gasping and slapping his hands down in this warm milk, splattering the spectators. Despite having cum just seconds ago, Mike soon joined him in squeezing out even more juice from his immense cock and softball sized balls. He clenched his hands into tight fists, scrunching up the steel ground like paper. Both of the young bodybuilder's muscles tensed compulsively, Erik's hard backside ripping huge lengths of iron from the floor. Mike shivered with pleasure, making his large balls wobble like jelly on a plate. They both came together, their beautiful faces contorted in sexual agony as they sprayed cum over each other's hugely muscled torsos. They cried out in pleasure again and again for one, two and then three minutes, cumming non-stop the entire time. If the two muscle studs weren't pressing and rolling around together, they would have literally shot their sticky loads across the auditorium. As the two muscle boys emptied their enormous balls via the biggest dicks in the city, they rolled over their own puddles of cum, coating each other in a healthy lather of super-spunk.

Then, it was over, Erik laying on top of Mike, still fondling his semi-erect cock. Erik Llapovich stood up, and offered Mike his hand. Mike took it, and Erik helped lift him to his feet. Warm love juices ran off his body and onto the pool on the ground. Even their short blond hair was completely wet and sticky with cum.

"Follow me!" said Erik.

Erik Llapovich headed for the commentator's room, kicking down the door with ease. The announcer turned around and saw the two he-men. He looked scared.
Erik pushed him aside, slamming him into the wall. He picked up the microphone and said in a husky voice:

"We officially declare this match a draw."
Then, he squeezed the microphone until it buckled like a toy, the plastic
snapping easily. Mike smiled and scooped Erik up in his muscle-packed arms.
"Where are we going?" asked the super-fit teenager.
"To my house. I've got a friend I want you to meet."

[Ender]

I don't mean to say any negative about this story itself... It's just not the sort of story I would normally associate with Onyx... Yes, I am aware that Onyx didn't write it but I'm a bit confused as to why he posted it.

I generally like the sort of stories Onyx writes/posts, but this story isn't any thing like an "Onyx" story. And frankly I don't see any connection to muscle growth beyond two overgrown brutes beating on each other and then deciding that having sex would be easier than trying the beat each other senseless...

The only thing I can think of that would make Onyx involvement in the story make sense is that the friend that Mike wants Erik to meet is Damian...

[boyn2changes]

I have a sneaking suspicion that this story 'slightly modified by Onyx' might be a lead-in to some new Onyx material on its way.

So a guy can hope...