THE FIGHT ISLAND After fifteen minutes of fight, Jerry is really in trouble. I punched his kidneys mercilessly, I twice slammed his 220-pound heavily muscled frame that was well distributed over his 6'1" height. I stretched his arms and his legs to the breaking point, I kicked him in the balls, I cracked two ribs of his with my hard fists, I put him in long held holds: a camel clutch, a boston crab, an over the shoulder backbreaker. I smashed his head down against the mat, grabbing him by his silky black hair, till his face was like raw hamburger. I tore out his pubes, forcing Jerry to scream. Now I am behind him in a standing position, and I am strangling him. I am enjoying his useless struggle. He tries to force apart the smooth iron muscles of my long, beautifully muscled arms. The ball of my biceps is crushing his windpipe while my forearms trap his neck in an iron vice. I could strangle him in less then ten seconds. I can snap his neck in less than a second, but I like to play with my victims like a cat with a mouse. I let him take a short breath, then quickly cut his air off again. Jerry is going frantic as he feels my 11" long rock-hard prick pressing against his back. He elbows me twice with his right arm, twice with the left one, but his moves gain him nothing. I force him to lose his footing, lifting his heavy weight, arching my back, reducing the impact of his blows against my lats. I can take much more pain Jerry. Since I was a small child I have been trained to absorb any kind of punishment, to thrive on pain, to react to any kind of difficult situations. My body was built to be an unstoppable lethal fighting machine. I was trained to take maximum pleasure from inflicting pain. Or was that just always inside me, in my genes? His elbow shots just elicit a muted roar of pleasure from me, while I whisper into his ear with my German sexy accent, "One more, Jerry, one more!" Jerry is a well trained fighter. He has already killed three warriors here on Fight Island, but now he knows he is losing his life, with his last strength coming from nowhere. He tries to leg-dive me, but no way--I am as unmovable as a mountain, my long muscled legs spread apart, firmly planted on the mat. He hits my limbs, understanding that it is like hitting the steel colums of a bridge. He tries one last move, bending back his right leg. He hits my orange-sized balls at full force with his hard talon, twice. I feel a sharp pain--trained or not trained, I do not like some scum bastard hitting my big cum-makers. Jerry is going to pay a high price. I pump my biceps, tightening my deadly hold, at the same time I shake him like a ragdoll. In five second he loses his senses, and I let him fall to the mat. Here I am, Sigfried Bulow, 25, 6'3", 210 pounds of ripped steel muscles, short blond hair, piercing blue eyes, a perfect nose, sensuous lips, the stunning good looks of a model. I tower over my battered and defeated opponent, who lies spread-eagled face down on the mat. I lick my lips where a drip of my blood from a small scratch is about the fall on the mat. I am starting the real show for the arena cameras; I know that somewhere there is a bastard who is taping the match. He probably has already had a couple of the most intense orgasms of his miserable life. I know this, because I have the sexual effect of a storm on most men and women. I call it sexual charisma-I've always had it. I move my long, incredibly muscled arms behind my head, stretching myself. Slowly I caress my large marble pecs, down onto my navel, where my large beautiful torso tapers towards a wasp waist. My lats are heavily muscled, my unbreakable eight pack is like an iron washboard. A crown of short cropped blond hairs puts is further evidence of my heavy sex pack, a long rock-hard pulsing uncut baby maker, much thicker than a beer can, points towards the ceiling. I cup my big, hairy, virtually unbustable balls, the skin stretched to the max as if the nutsac is not large enough to hold all the hot white semen that my balls are going to shoot. My long iron-corded legs are spread large, stretched to the max, the muscled masses moving under the silk skin, my calves strained to the max. I like my body. I'm not a bodybuilder or a powerlifter-they're much too heavy, too slow, their muscles too much for show to be efficient in a fight. I'm also not a swimmer type-they're much too light and too weak. I'm not a wrestler type-they're much too planted on the ground. My body is the body of a gymnast inside the frame of a swimmer with the power of a weightlifter and the reflexes and instinct of a wrestler: a perfect deadly machine. I am savoring the pleasure of the long, immanent rape, the unbearable pain, the total annihilation, the last humiliation, the relentless beating, the dreadfull death of poor Jerry, ex-American Marine, 28, ex-martial artist, ex-no-holds-barred fighter, now just ex. I am enjoying the feeling of absolute power over my defeated opponent, the power of life and death. I straddle Jerry sitting on his legs, I surf his asscrack with my iron rod while I slap his face. I want Jerry perfectly conscious and aware of his destruction. When he feels my assbuster pressing against his virgin hole, Jerry tries to crawl away. Two well placed fists to his mauled kidneys stop him. I trap him in a neck-breaking full nelson while I slowly go inside his ass. My prick tears his insides apart, ripping the soft tissue. Jerry is pleading - "No, please, nooo!!" - he is screaming in pain and I am still only half way inside him. With a sudden thrust I piledrive my iron rod deep inside him, slapping at full force my heavy balls against his butt. Jerry is on the virge of losing his senses. I pump him relentlessy while I tell him he is my pussy, my bitch. Jerry cries, screams, he tries to fight back, but I bearhug him. My arms are like anacondas that leave him breathless. His ribs crack under the pressure. Jerry stops crying. He has no air left in his lungs, and his mouth is open in a desperate attempt to suck some air into his burning lungs. He becomes frantic, and in the meantime I never miss a beat with my rhythmic fucking. Suddenly I release my hold, and he fills his lungs with just enough air to scream like a soprano as my fingers grab his large nipples, twisting them, almost tearing them off his pecs. When I let go of them, my fingers are covered with blood. It is time for the last run. I have perfect control over my ejaculations. I can last much longer, even hours, but I want to preserve my strength for the matches still to come. I am still inside him. I put my hand over his shoulders, pressing poor Jerry against the mat, I plant my feet on the mat astride Jerry's butt, and I begin to lift myself, slowly, while I lift Jerry's muscled body. Still rock hard inside him, 220 pounds of screaming, shaking beaten hunk supported by my baby-maker inside his gut, by my right hand grabbing his hair, by my left hand grabbing his nipple. I am literally ripping him apart, his screams are inhuman, a rivulet of blood streaming from his ass, I carry him towards the arena's wall, I slam him against it, I began to fuck him like an obsessed man, each of my powerful thrusts slamming him hard against the wall. I grunt on the verge of my orgasm, a breathtaking orgasm. When I shoot my loads of hot white semen with my final thrust, I feel Jerry relaxing his limp body. I let him slump down to the mat. Red blood and white semen drip from his ass and form a small pool between his legs. My cock is still rock hard. With my foot I turn him to his back and straddle his chest. Suddenly I punch his balls, and Jerry screams again. He tries to cover his sex pack, bending his legs, but I hit him twice more in less than a second, then I grab his balls, my iron fingernails deep inside the soft flesh. Then I crush his balls with my hand and twist his ballsac till his balls burst. I pull his cock with all my strength, almost ripping it. I knee Jerry aside. His screams are music in my hears. I curl him into a fetal position, his hand covering his destroyed manhood, and I tell him, "I crushed you, I fucked you, I took your manhood, now I take your life." In no time I wrap my long muscled legs around his head, crossing my calves under his neck. I am sitting on his chest. Slowly my thighs strangle him, while my orange-sized balls are dangling over his mouth. I stroke my long uncut cock over his eyes, slapping his cheecks with it. I enjoy the feeling of absolute power over him, reaching my second orgasm at the very same time that he dies. I unwrap my legs from his neck, and when I am on my feet, I piss all over him. The armed guards take the lifeless body out the arena. The usual voice from the loudspeaker orders me to return to my cell, where I find medical aid, my meal, some fruit juice. I take a long shower, I eat my meal, I jump on my bed, I began to stroke my always rock-hard baby-maker. I fix with piercing blue eyes the camera that is surveying me, never deflecting my gaze. I know that someone is watching me, I know that he or she wants to touch my hard body, my silky smooth skin. I know that someone wants to feel the thrill of my deadly hands around his or her neck. I know that someone wants to feel my long ,rock-hard, thick, unyielding cock inside his or her hot body. I was born in East Germany, under a communist goverment. My mother was a spy, killed in action in England during the Cold War. My father was Russian, a KGB colonel, who propably died in some Siberian gulag, I never knew, so I was an orphan at the age of 4, when the Stasi, the East German secret police, took care of me. They grew educated me in special colleges where they selected their deadly agents. They wanted to produce the perfect spy, and for 15 years I learned wrestling, martial arts, boxing, how to inflict pain, how to withstand it, how to seduce a woman or a man, who to steal information, how to kill people using a sheet of paper, how to organize terrorist attacks. I killed my first opponent in a wrestling match at 14, he was a 17- year-old dark-haired, muscled teen. He too was trained in the same college where I was. Our teachers liked to pit one of us against the other in order to help them choose the best. During the hard training years I killed a lot of them, in wrestling matches, in blade matches, in gun duels, in war games. I also killed two martial arts teachers. I was the best there. I remember when the German people destroyed the Berlin wall, I was there, looking at those dramatic events, I was 18 years old, ready for my first mission, one of the most perfect human weapons, but I was on the wrong side, the losing side. No one can fight history. I went back to my headquarters. It was almost deserted. I killed the guard in front of Colonel Becker's office, snapping his neck. Then I surprised the Colonel, who was preparing to escape. It was a brief fight: I broke two or three of his ribs with my flying kick. I stunned him with three fist blows to his head, followed by a headbutt to his forehead. I stomped his balls, twice, after which I stomped him to death. I cancelled all my files from the computer network. I no longer existed. I transferred a huge amount of money to a Swiss bank, then I went to the practice room where I had a meeting with my last wrestling coach, Kurt. He was 32 years old, 6'4", 240 pounds of beefy hairy muscles, a tough son of bitch. I told him I wanted to wrestle him naked, to the death. He was surprised but confident. He was my coach, and he was a lot heavier and more experienced. He thought there was no way he could lose to me. Big mistake. I attacked first, I feigned a low kick. He lowered his guard, so I shot two fingers into his eyes. He screamed, covering his face. I followed with a powerful ax-kick to the base of his neck. Kurt was stunned, he was forced to one knee. I grabbed his right arm with both hands. I turned my back toward his side, passing his arm between my legs. I put a lot of pressure on it, straining it and at the same time that my right hand forced his small finger to the breaking point, then I gave it a sudden twist. I forced his arm down, and at the same time I put my right leg between his legs, hooking his right leg, forcing it up. Kurt was forced to flip to the mat, back down. The next thing he felt was my long muscled leg wrapping around his neck. I bent my right leg under his chin, crossing my calves. In less than ten seconds, Kurt was on his back, in a strangling headscissor, his right arm tortured by my steel hands, his right small finger broken. Kurt was screaming in pain, but he was a seasoned fighter. He tried to reach my foot with his left hand. He was reaching for my toes. I sensed the danger, so I pumped all my leg muscles one more time, forcing a grunt from him, then I unwrapped my leg hold before any damage could be done. I jumped to my feet. Kurt was still lifting himself when I mule-kicked him in his chest. He landed three meters away, completely winded. He looked dazed, but I was sure that he was playing possum. I waited for him to get back to his feet. I was rock hard, I really was enjoing my domination on my older coach. Kurt looked furious, but approached carefully. On purpose I let my left guard down. He saw the opportunity and threw a punch to my head with his right hand. I turned my head so that his punch landed against my skull. Kurt sceamed in pain, his broken fingers sent him waves and waves of pain. I attacked, rights, lefts, hooks, jabs, uppercuts, knee lifts, elbows, to his face, his pecs, his gut, his lats, palm strikes to the forehead. Kurt backed to the wall. He was too busy to defend himself to try something else. I was tearing him apart. At last he tried a knee lift to my balls. I deflected it with my thigh. My knee lift hit the target, three times in a row. Kurt doubled, and my uppercut lifted him from his feet, slamming his skull hard against the wall. I finished him with an elbow against the base of the neck, at the same point as the previous ax kick. I heard a loud crack of broken bones. Kurt was slumping down to the mat. I grabbed him under his armpits, lifting him, than I slammed him against the wall. He was completely dazed. I jumped high, planting my feet against his waist. Then I monkey flipped him, throwing him high in the air. Kurt landed so hard against the mat that he bounced twice. Kurt was almost out cold, spread-eagled on his back, unable to move, moaning sofly. Time for the kill. I kicked Kurt onto his back. I grabbed his arms, planting a knee against his back. In a rapid fluid motion I dislodged his shoulders. Kurt had no fight left. He was able only to cry and to beg. I lifted him on his feet by his hair. I bearhugged him from behind, constricting my grip with maximum pressure. Kurt was desperate. I was shaking him like a ragdoll, and in a few second four ribs were broken. He could not breathe, and his spine was at the breaking point. I continued to grip him in the deadly bearhug, then I let him slump to the mat. Kurt was dead, his spine broken in three places. I left the building a few minutes before it crashed to the ground, destroyed by the Sentex and the TNT. THE FIGHT ISLAND II My next opponent is a professional fighter, his name is Carlos, he is a 30 y.o. Brazilian, 6'6" and 270 pounds of beefy muscles. His big muscles are covered by a layer of fat that makes him more menacing, a dark fur is all over his body. His black eyes are showing no emotions. He is a well trained fighter, with a lot of experiences in illegal fights circuits, he probably likes to kill his opponents, he uses his ju-jtzu knowledge to takes his opponents to the ground, then he uses his grapling skills, his weight and his size, his incredible strenght to cripple his opponents' limbs or to strangle them or to crush them in deadly holds. He is skipping around the arena turning his head on the left first then on the right, his small balls and his 4" soft cock dangling between his powerfull legs. I smile, I saw him when he stared just for a fraction of a second my orange sized balls and my long, fat cock, he has already found a big, painfull target of his attacks, he likes to hit his opponets' fat cum makers, expecially when they are bigger than his own cherry sized balls. Carlos seems very confident, he has 40 pounds and 3 inches on me, a good martial arts background, strenght, experience and determination. Carlos is so predictable, he is waiting for me to attack first, usually a lighter fighter attacks first to strike the havier opponent with punches and kicks, using his agility and speed to doom the more powerfull fighter, Carlos expects me to fall in his net of grapling technics, no way! I assume the fighting stance, tensing my arms and all my perfectly developed muscles, planting my foot on the mat, immovable like a mountain: Carlos is surprised, he must attack first, he decides to surprise me with a kamikaze attack: he is fast, really fast, theese big men are explosive in their first 10 yards, he is already at me, like a fury, ready to tackle me to the ground, I sidestep at the last instant, turning on my left side, I backpunch him to the base of his neck, sending him to crash to the mat, face first: the first blood is mine. I assume my fight stance again, immovable. Carlos jumps to his feet in no time with a roar of anger: he attacks again, this time he opens his arms so that I cannot sidestep his tackle: I let me fall back to the ground, locking my hands under his armpits, I put my legs on his hips, and I use his force to monkey-flip him: Carlos lands 5 meters away, bouncing against the hard mat. Quickly he is on his feet, but I am already at him, I round-kick his face, my foot connects hard against his left cheek, his head his forced to his right, I stop my round movement, ready to a front kick against his gut, he sees my move, he is ready to grab my leg, but I am thinking better, my foot crashes down against his right foot, I hear a satysfing sound of breaking bones, the big Brazilian screams in surprise and pain, he jumps back on his left foot, I shoot a low kick to his left kneeback, Carlos crashes to the mat on his back, during the fall he spread his legs, I see the opening and as soon as he touches the mat, my right foot connects at full force against his cherry-sized balls, smashing them against his pubic bone, Carlos' scream is so hight that it could crash a glass. Carlos jacknifes covering his mauled balls with both hands, he has not already reached the sitting position when his chin connects against my knee, sending him back to the ground, stunned. I do not waste time to admire the results of my attack, Carlos can be hurt and stunned but he still dangerous, I grab his legs and in no time I cross them around my right leg, Carlos too late understands what his happening, I force a screaming Carlos on his belly, quickly I sit on the small on his back with my scorpion death-lock perfectly applied: usually this is a pro-wrestling hold, not so effective, but I laugh while I am bending his right broken foot whith my iron fingers, while his injured left knee is forced to the breaking point, while I bend Carlos' back that is sending him waves of unbearable pain. Carlos screams, cries, after few second he is begging mercy, I tighten my holds, he screams louder, I taunts him, he begs, I apply more pressure, he screams, perheps I can break his back but I do not want to be so easy whit him,after few moments he is on the verge of passing out, I release my holds. Carlos is moaning, I straddle his back, I grab his dirty black hairs, and I slams his face against the mat, after ten or more times his lips and nose are broken. I turn him on his back, before he can react I punch his throat, the Brazilian clutches his throat with both hands, he coughes and spits blood. Again I move fast, in no time he is all wrapped by my iron body in a spaddle hold, my spaddle is so tight that his chin is touching his pecs and his back so bent that his ass in the air completely split open. His neck is so bent against his hairy pecs that he can hardly breath. With my free hand I slap what is left of his mauled balls, Carlos cries, then I begin to explore hia asshole with my fingers, Carlos understand what is happening, with a burst of energy he tries to freed himself, he shakes, screams, but he cannot power out my iron grips, I begin to fingerfuck his virgin hole with my index, Carlos screams - Nooooo, please , noooo - I whisper to his ear - How do you feel, Carlito? Is it humiliating, boy, to be finger fucked by a smaller, younger fighter? - Carlos explodes in pure rage, he surprises me, I must admit, he freeds his right arm but before he can do some damages I let my hold, gaining my feet as fast as I can, he is already on his knees when I knee-lift his chin, sending him again to the mat, slowler he raises to his knee again only to meet my hard boned foot, my round house kick forces his head on his side, a rivulette of blood from his mouth lands few yards away, his body turns around and falls on his belly to the ground. He quickly is on his fours, but he is an easy target, I kick at full force between his legs, downside up, I lift his body 3 feet hight, he screams helpless, a paralyzing pain shakes his whole body, he is still falling to the ground when I kick his ass, pushing his body landing few yards away. The dark haired Brazilian is flat on his stomach, stunned, his legs spreaded eagle, his hands are cupping his destroyed balls, I step beside him, merciless I begin to intrude my toe inside his ass hole, I am violating his manhood, Carlos cries and tries to crawl away, but with small kicks my toes are deeper and deeper inside his ass. I follow him crawling around the arena, I am enjoying his total humiliation, my fat rock hard piledriver is at its full must throbbing in spasm of pure pleasure. After few minutes, I decides to end the game, but I want to terrorize my next opponents who are watching on their screens the fight in their cells: if your enemy fears you, no, if your enemy is terrorized by you, you have just won the mental battle, I must force my next opponents to think only what can happen to them, their mind must be paralyzed by the fear. I drop to my knees, and I begin to fist his kidneys, punch after punch his body bounces on the mat, he has not even the force to screams, after few dozens of blows his kidneys are mush, even if I want to spare him, he cannot survive at the internal injuries. I force him to his knees lifing him by his ears, his eyes are spent, I slam his face against my crotch, then I grab his right nipple and I twist it with my iron fingers, he opens his mouth and screams: just what I want. I insert my fingers inside his mouth, first the left ones, then the right ones, before he can byte them, with a sudden jerk, I pull with all my forces his jaw down, Carlos tries to react, but in one second his jaw is out of his sockets, completely broken: Carlos will never gnaw anything else in his short left life. The Brazilian faints, I must kindly slaps his face, back and forth to reanimate him, I need him well conscoius for what is happening. In few second he gain his senses, his eyes are pleading, I smile at him, his mouth is open in an innatural way, I grab the big warrior by his ears and I impale his face against my long fat babymaker, with two thrusts my 12" hard meat is all inside him, down his throat, chocking him, I begin to pump him faster and faster, still grabbing his head by his ears, I move my thumbs against his orbs, I begin to press them against his eyes. Carlos is going frenzy, he is chocking against my cock, his broken jaw must send him waves of unbereable pain, he grabs my glutes with his hands, his iron fingers desperately scratching my skins, he muffles and moans, I cannot stop myself, I am on the verge of the most powerfull orgasm of my life, I am pumpimg my exploding cock in and out his ravaged throat with long fast powerfull strokes, Carlos is being chocked to death by my new deadly weapon, when suddenly my cock explodes, I smash Carlos' face agaist my pubes, my hot incommensurable white semen is invading his intestines and his lungs, my cock is chocking him to death, after one minute I am still shooting waves and waves of sperm, Carlos cannot breath, his face is almost blue, the blood pressure is popping his eyes out of the orbs while my thumbs are caving their way towards his brain. Suddenly everything comes to end, his eyes pop out of theyr sockets, my thumbs reach his brain striking him dead, his throat's muscles clutch against my iron rod in the last spasm of death, forcing me to a new sudden orgasm, I almost faint in the last extasy, I am still, unable to move when Carlos' body slumps to the mat, his mouth sliding from my still rock hard cock, causing me new waves of pleasure. From the orbs of the dead Brazilian two streams of blood and grey brain flow to the mat, from his mouth a rivulette of white semen mixed to the dark blood drips from his chin to his throat, forming a small pool at the base of the neck. Two guards enter into the arena, their mouthes open in disbeliefe, their eyes open wide in horror and terror: horror and terror in the eyes of my next opponents, too, I can feel their fear, I can read their mind. The guards aim at me with their guns, isterically they shout at me to go back to my cell, they walk behind me carefully, from a side doors a tall man appears, he is young, 28-30 years hold, 6' tall, more or less 170 pounds of lean muscles, quite goodlooking, dark blond, blue eyes: he orders the guards to go back, he will take me to my cell, he has a gun in his hand, the guards go away, we walk towards the cell, when we are close to my cell, in a flash I turn against the mysterious young man, easily I take away the gun from his hand, I slam him against the wall, I press my hard body against his, I kiss him, I put my bloody hands on his lean body, exploring his muscles and bones, in few second he is breathless, I can feel his cock hardening, his hands move behind my head, caressing my silk blond hair. My hands are around his throat and his balls, he begins to tremble, I can kill him easily. I step back, I let the gun fall to the ground and I enter into my cell. He stays still against the wall, trying to catch his breath again, after few moments, he runs towards to door and he closes it. He smiles and whispers me - I will save you - He runs away. I start to laugh: if he save me, I will damn him.