BUTCH AMERICAN vs. RUSSIAN BEAR
Part 6 of 7
(The Raunchy Punch-Drunk Sequel to Dads and Sons Fathers’ Day Fight Wager)
A hard punch to Vlad’s face snapped his head back and sent him staggering landing him heavily on the ground. Butch immediately began kicking Vlad as Vlad rolled to get away from Butch’s boots. As Butch was in the process of delivering another brutal kick, he slipped on what was fresh feces pitching him face forward. A hard punch thrown by Vlad met Butch’s square shaped chin on the way to the ground. Again, both fighters rolled around on the rough wooden floor covered with crud. The rotting wooden floor was yet another opportunity to be stabbed with splinters. A loose nail pierced Vlad’s side. He reached back and pulled out the nail flinging it away. This gave Butch a good shot at Vlad’s nose and as his face spun around from the blow Vlad suddenly found his entire head covered in thick spider webbing. His breath stifled, Vlad desperately sprang to his feet and retreated to the far side of the barn scattering the onlookers as he frantically clawed at the webbing trying to get it off.
Butch followed him in a frenzy to press his advantage but in doing so knocked over one of the kerosene lamps. One of the truckers caught the lamp in the nick of time, but the fight was veering so out of control, everyone started running through the double doors of the barn in terror. Vlad hesitated for a moment then followed everyone outside. He grabbed snow from the ground and scrubbed furiously, freeing himself of most of the sticky webbing just as Butch came charging out through the double doors bellowing, “WHAT, YOU ALL DONE? C’MON BACK INSIDE CAUSE I AIN’T THROUGH BEATIN THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!!
Vlad yelled back. “I CAN FIGHT YOU OUTSIDE IN THIS OPEN SPACE COVERED IN SNOW OR WE CAN GO BACK INTO THAT FUCKIN BARN! MAKES NO FUCKIN DIFFERENCE TO ME!! NOT EVEN IF THE FUCKIN BARN CATCHES FIRE. FUCK THE FUCKIN LAMPS, I FIGHT YOU IN THE DARK!!
Butch said firmly, “WE STARTED IN THERE, I SAY WE FINISH IN THERE!
The Russian shrugged dramatically. “THEN IN THE FUCKIN BARN WE GO AGAIN AND FINISH THIS FIGHT!!
Murray had taken out two of the kerosene lamps. There were two remaining lit inside the barn, but the visibility had dimmed considerably.
Carla said, “YOU TWO ARE PSYCHO. I’VE GOT GRANDKIDS FOR GOD’S SAKES, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH. I’M GOING BACK TO THE DINER.” Murray confessed he had seen enough also and followed behind her. Some of the truckers preferred to stay outside the barn to safely peer in through the open double doors. The two truckers recording the fight with their devices stepped inside gingerly, wondering if anything was going to end up being visible now that half of the light source had been taken away.
Between the two remaining lanterns spaced strategically, Butch and Vlad faced off yet again. They each spit into their dirty hands and massaged their dirty cocks making them fully erect again. They slowly flexed their aching muscles, gazing at each other defiantly. The truckers moved in close to film close-up shots of their bodies from all angles taking careful attention to record the multiple wounds on each fighter. Neither man minded. They were proud to display their battle trophies.
Vlad suddenly asked, “DO YOU STILL INSIST ON WINNER FUCKING THE LOSER?
Butch responded tauntingly, “YOU BACKIN DOWN FROM THAT? WHAT, YOUR ASS GETTIN NERVOUS?”
Vlad shook his head smiling, “OH NO, AMERICAN. JUST MAKING SURE OF TERMS.”
They exchanged grim looks, then Vlad shot a wad of spit at Butch. Again, his loogie landed on Butch’s left pec, most of the gob spit dripping off the same pink nipple. Butch said scornfully, “GUESS YOU FAVOR THAT SIDE OF ME, HUH?” Butch fingered the spit on his nipple and then flicked it towards Vlad. He then let loose with a wad of spit of his own landing a gob in the middle of Vlad’s chest. Vlad made a show of rubbing Butch’s loogie over his entire chest moistening his red nipples making them stand erect. His pleased cock bobbed excitedly as well.
Their blood lust up, they charged each other, their huge bodies ramming together with enormous force. Blow after blow after blow was traded. They punched, kicked, slapped, cursed, spit and clawed each other from one end of the barn to the other.
Butch grabbed Vlad by his beard and yanked, then with his other hand grabbed Vlad’s thick hair and tried forcing his head into another thick spider web. Vlad instinctively grabbed at Butch’s hair but not able to because of Butch’s crewcut, grasped instead Butch’s moustache and the inside of his upper mouth with one hand and with the other hand, held his square cleft chin twisting Butch’s face and head towards the same spiderweb. Their bodies crushed against each other in a battle to determine whose face was going to be covered in the sticky web. This desperate tug of war was excruciatingly painful as each man simultaneously tugged and resisted. After several agonizing minutes, their combined weight against the side of the stall they were leaning on gave way. The combatants crashed to the ground, the spiderweb ending up sticking and crusting both their heaving chests.
Grabbing one another they rolled on the ground alternately thrusting and colliding their bulky bodies throughout the space. Their cursing had grown so loud and so vehement it caused stampedes of vermin. Two squealing rats leaped clear over them trying to escape the wild melee. The owl finally left its perch and swooping over the frightened truckers disappeared through the double doors of the barn and into the dark night.
Butch, seized with an uncontrollable fury, bit deeply into the side of Vlad’s pec causing him to scream in pain. Vlad retaliated by biting just as ferociously into Butch’s beefy shoulder. Locked together, their teeth bit harder and harder into each other’s bleeding flesh as their bodies writhed and thrashed about looking like two king cobras in a tangled death match. A desperate boot kick sent one of the kerosene lamps onto its side. As straw began to ignite into flame, it was the fighters who simultaneously broke off from each other, and as Vlad righted the lamp, Butch stomped the fire out with his heavy boots.
They rose, spat their opponent’s blood out of their mouths, took a mere second to inspect their bite wounds, squared off and immediately went back at it again with hammering blows. A grueling amount of time had passed but both fighting men were determined to best the other in this bloodsport challenge. One man would win. One man would lose.
Then suddenly, it happened. Vlad connected with an uppercut to Butch’s most tempting target – his square-shaped chin with the deep cleft in it. The devastating punch sent Butch sprawling backwards, his hulking body hitting the ground so forcefully it shook the entire structure of the barn sending scampering rodents into yet another blind panic. The onlookers looked around fretfully as if they believed this time the barn really would completely collapse on all of them.
Vlad backed away waiting to see if Butch was still in the fight. A stone silence followed everyone anticipating what would happen next. One of the truckers with his recording device stepped forward tentatively aiming it into Butch’s face and then announced. “OH, YEAH MAN. THIS DUDE’S OUT COLD.”
Swiftly, Vlad instructed one of the truckers to bring a kerosene lamp into one of the still standing stalls. Vlad rushed outside and returned instantly carrying an old table that he had noticed outside the barn. He braced it against the securest side of the stall. Retrieving Butch’s cap, he went back outside and filled it to the brim with snow, brought it back inside and placed it on the table. He then lifted the still unconscious Butch in one swift motion and carried him into the stall and placed him face up on the table. He then took the cap and applied the snow gently over Butch’s brow and cheeks. Butch made a groaning sound.
Vlad then instructed the two truckers to position themselves at the table with their recording devices. One of the truckers said, “You’re really going to fuck him? In here? In all this squalor?
Vlad answered, “THOSE WERE HIS FUCKIN TERMS. HE SAID WE FIGHT IN HERE. WE FUCK IN HERE. YOU HEARD HIM SAY IT. NO BIG FUCKIN DIFFERENCE TO ME. THESE WERE HIS TERMS. YOU WANT TO RECORD THIS OR NOT?
The truckers aimed their devices as Vlad gently applied more snow around Butch’s face and around his neck, front and back. Butch came around, dazed but recognizing where he was. He also realized what position he was in on the table and who was carefully administering him. Vlad continued to apply snow to Butch’s chest, stomach and even began to massage his legs.
Now fully conscious, Butch let out a deep sigh and said shamefacedly, “Fuck, I lost, didn’t I?
Vlad answered quietly, “Yes, you lost. And now, my friend, I invade your American territories which you say have never been invaded before. These are the terms you set.”
Butch said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I lost. Get it over with. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!”
Now his anger was growing as well as his humiliation. “GO ON! FUCK ME AND GET IT OVER WITH! DRILL, BABY, DRILL, GODDAMN IT!!
Vlad still speaking quietly said, “I can make this pleasurable or painful. It’s all up to you.”
Butch turned his head away and whispered, “Go on. I’m no damn welsher. I lost fair and square. Do it.
Vlad said, “Yes, but next time we team up and take on all these fuckin rats, you and I. Maybe these mutha-fuckin rats will be watching us even now as I fuck you in your ass. The owl too if he hadn’t flown away.’
Butch said, “WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET ON WITH IT?”
tuffchap (1)
4/13/2021 8:52 PMBUTCH AMERICAN vs. RUSSIAN BEAR
Part 6 of 7
(The Raunchy Punch-Drunk Sequel to Dads and Sons Fathers’ Day Fight Wager)
A hard punch to Vlad’s face snapped his head back and sent him staggering landing him heavily on the ground. Butch immediately began kicking Vlad as Vlad rolled to get away from Butch’s boots. As Butch was in the process of delivering another brutal kick, he slipped on what was fresh feces pitching him face forward. A hard punch thrown by Vlad met Butch’s square shaped chin on the way to the ground. Again, both fighters rolled around on the rough wooden floor covered with crud. The rotting wooden floor was yet another opportunity to be stabbed with splinters. A loose nail pierced Vlad’s side. He reached back and pulled out the nail flinging it away. This gave Butch a good shot at Vlad’s nose and as his face spun around from the blow Vlad suddenly found his entire head covered in thick spider webbing. His breath stifled, Vlad desperately sprang to his feet and retreated to the far side of the barn scattering the onlookers as he frantically clawed at the webbing trying to get it off.
Butch followed him in a frenzy to press his advantage but in doing so knocked over one of the kerosene lamps. One of the truckers caught the lamp in the nick of time, but the fight was veering so out of control, everyone started running through the double doors of the barn in terror. Vlad hesitated for a moment then followed everyone outside. He grabbed snow from the ground and scrubbed furiously, freeing himself of most of the sticky webbing just as Butch came charging out through the double doors bellowing, “WHAT, YOU ALL DONE? C’MON BACK INSIDE CAUSE I AIN’T THROUGH BEATIN THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!!
Vlad yelled back. “I CAN FIGHT YOU OUTSIDE IN THIS OPEN SPACE COVERED IN SNOW OR WE CAN GO BACK INTO THAT FUCKIN BARN! MAKES NO FUCKIN DIFFERENCE TO ME!! NOT EVEN IF THE FUCKIN BARN CATCHES FIRE. FUCK THE FUCKIN LAMPS, I FIGHT YOU IN THE DARK!!
Butch said firmly, “WE STARTED IN THERE, I SAY WE FINISH IN THERE!
The Russian shrugged dramatically. “THEN IN THE FUCKIN BARN WE GO AGAIN AND FINISH THIS FIGHT!!
Murray had taken out two of the kerosene lamps. There were two remaining lit inside the barn, but the visibility had dimmed considerably.
Carla said, “YOU TWO ARE PSYCHO. I’VE GOT GRANDKIDS FOR GOD’S SAKES, I’VE SEEN ENOUGH. I’M GOING BACK TO THE DINER.” Murray confessed he had seen enough also and followed behind her. Some of the truckers preferred to stay outside the barn to safely peer in through the open double doors. The two truckers recording the fight with their devices stepped inside gingerly, wondering if anything was going to end up being visible now that half of the light source had been taken away.
Between the two remaining lanterns spaced strategically, Butch and Vlad faced off yet again. They each spit into their dirty hands and massaged their dirty cocks making them fully erect again. They slowly flexed their aching muscles, gazing at each other defiantly. The truckers moved in close to film close-up shots of their bodies from all angles taking careful attention to record the multiple wounds on each fighter. Neither man minded. They were proud to display their battle trophies.
Vlad suddenly asked, “DO YOU STILL INSIST ON WINNER FUCKING THE LOSER?
Butch responded tauntingly, “YOU BACKIN DOWN FROM THAT? WHAT, YOUR ASS GETTIN NERVOUS?”
Vlad shook his head smiling, “OH NO, AMERICAN. JUST MAKING SURE OF TERMS.”
They exchanged grim looks, then Vlad shot a wad of spit at Butch. Again, his loogie landed on Butch’s left pec, most of the gob spit dripping off the same pink nipple. Butch said scornfully, “GUESS YOU FAVOR THAT SIDE OF ME, HUH?” Butch fingered the spit on his nipple and then flicked it towards Vlad. He then let loose with a wad of spit of his own landing a gob in the middle of Vlad’s chest. Vlad made a show of rubbing Butch’s loogie over his entire chest moistening his red nipples making them stand erect. His pleased cock bobbed excitedly as well.
Their blood lust up, they charged each other, their huge bodies ramming together with enormous force. Blow after blow after blow was traded. They punched, kicked, slapped, cursed, spit and clawed each other from one end of the barn to the other.
Butch grabbed Vlad by his beard and yanked, then with his other hand grabbed Vlad’s thick hair and tried forcing his head into another thick spider web. Vlad instinctively grabbed at Butch’s hair but not able to because of Butch’s crewcut, grasped instead Butch’s moustache and the inside of his upper mouth with one hand and with the other hand, held his square cleft chin twisting Butch’s face and head towards the same spiderweb. Their bodies crushed against each other in a battle to determine whose face was going to be covered in the sticky web. This desperate tug of war was excruciatingly painful as each man simultaneously tugged and resisted. After several agonizing minutes, their combined weight against the side of the stall they were leaning on gave way. The combatants crashed to the ground, the spiderweb ending up sticking and crusting both their heaving chests.
Grabbing one another they rolled on the ground alternately thrusting and colliding their bulky bodies throughout the space. Their cursing had grown so loud and so vehement it caused stampedes of vermin. Two squealing rats leaped clear over them trying to escape the wild melee. The owl finally left its perch and swooping over the frightened truckers disappeared through the double doors of the barn and into the dark night.
Butch, seized with an uncontrollable fury, bit deeply into the side of Vlad’s pec causing him to scream in pain. Vlad retaliated by biting just as ferociously into Butch’s beefy shoulder. Locked together, their teeth bit harder and harder into each other’s bleeding flesh as their bodies writhed and thrashed about looking like two king cobras in a tangled death match. A desperate boot kick sent one of the kerosene lamps onto its side. As straw began to ignite into flame, it was the fighters who simultaneously broke off from each other, and as Vlad righted the lamp, Butch stomped the fire out with his heavy boots.
They rose, spat their opponent’s blood out of their mouths, took a mere second to inspect their bite wounds, squared off and immediately went back at it again with hammering blows. A grueling amount of time had passed but both fighting men were determined to best the other in this bloodsport challenge. One man would win. One man would lose.
Then suddenly, it happened. Vlad connected with an uppercut to Butch’s most tempting target – his square-shaped chin with the deep cleft in it. The devastating punch sent Butch sprawling backwards, his hulking body hitting the ground so forcefully it shook the entire structure of the barn sending scampering rodents into yet another blind panic. The onlookers looked around fretfully as if they believed this time the barn really would completely collapse on all of them.
Vlad backed away waiting to see if Butch was still in the fight. A stone silence followed everyone anticipating what would happen next. One of the truckers with his recording device stepped forward tentatively aiming it into Butch’s face and then announced. “OH, YEAH MAN. THIS DUDE’S OUT COLD.”
Swiftly, Vlad instructed one of the truckers to bring a kerosene lamp into one of the still standing stalls. Vlad rushed outside and returned instantly carrying an old table that he had noticed outside the barn. He braced it against the securest side of the stall. Retrieving Butch’s cap, he went back outside and filled it to the brim with snow, brought it back inside and placed it on the table. He then lifted the still unconscious Butch in one swift motion and carried him into the stall and placed him face up on the table. He then took the cap and applied the snow gently over Butch’s brow and cheeks. Butch made a groaning sound.
Vlad then instructed the two truckers to position themselves at the table with their recording devices. One of the truckers said, “You’re really going to fuck him? In here? In all this squalor?
Vlad answered, “THOSE WERE HIS FUCKIN TERMS. HE SAID WE FIGHT IN HERE. WE FUCK IN HERE. YOU HEARD HIM SAY IT. NO BIG FUCKIN DIFFERENCE TO ME. THESE WERE HIS TERMS. YOU WANT TO RECORD THIS OR NOT?
The truckers aimed their devices as Vlad gently applied more snow around Butch’s face and around his neck, front and back. Butch came around, dazed but recognizing where he was. He also realized what position he was in on the table and who was carefully administering him. Vlad continued to apply snow to Butch’s chest, stomach and even began to massage his legs.
Now fully conscious, Butch let out a deep sigh and said shamefacedly, “Fuck, I lost, didn’t I?
Vlad answered quietly, “Yes, you lost. And now, my friend, I invade your American territories which you say have never been invaded before. These are the terms you set.”
Butch said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I lost. Get it over with. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!”
Now his anger was growing as well as his humiliation. “GO ON! FUCK ME AND GET IT OVER WITH! DRILL, BABY, DRILL, GODDAMN IT!!
Vlad still speaking quietly said, “I can make this pleasurable or painful. It’s all up to you.”
Butch turned his head away and whispered, “Go on. I’m no damn welsher. I lost fair and square. Do it.
Vlad said, “Yes, but next time we team up and take on all these fuckin rats, you and I. Maybe these mutha-fuckin rats will be watching us even now as I fuck you in your ass. The owl too if he hadn’t flown away.’
Butch said, “WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET ON WITH IT?”