|When I woke I heard birds singing. I sensed sunlight through my closed eyelids and felt a cool breeze on my naked skin. I opened my eyes. OmegaMan sat naked on a chair across the room watching me. The sight of him was as thoroughly arousing as the sight of Stewart, if not more so, even though I knew he intended to kill me. By every measure he was as much a man as I. All this I knew from SPEAR intelligence files as well as Gordon's memories, but I couldn't have appreciated the complete magnificence of the fact without seeing him myself, naked, a state I knew even Gordon had never witnessed.
When I first saw him a few hours ago, even under his hood I saw how broad and masculine his features were, the sharpness and angularity of his cheekbones and his jaw. What I couldn't see then, and what Gordon had never noticed, were his green, almost luminescent eyes. His shaved beard was thick and dark, and against the pale color of the rest of his complexion it was even more apparent. His neck was thick and muscular. His shoulders were three feet wide. His pecs were so thick you could hide folding money between them. His abs massive, but tight. Between his enormously muscular legs was a cock that could only be compared with a boa constrictor. It lengthened in time to his heartbeats, but not enough to make it erect. Only enough to make his admiration of my own naked body clear.
"Good morning, as they say in your country," he said to me, his thin lips grinning malevolently around his large, white teeth. "Welcome to my dacha, or rather the guesthouse of my dacha. I am sure you are not surprised that I didn't kill you during our little altercation back at the Kremlin. You are too extraordinary an opponent to kill with weapons or chemicals, or with distractions."
'Distractions' was an understatement, and they were distractions that OmegaMan had created himself.
There had been a G-8 summit meeting in Moscow. A SPEAR agent had found out that OmegaMan was planning to capture and kill the leaders of the eight most powerful nations on earth, including the leader of his own country. In the last several years, OmegaMan had muscled his way into control of the Russian Mafia. He had amassed great wealth, and he ran major companies all over the former Soviet Union. He controlled three political parties. SPEAR wasn't sure what OmegaMan hoped to gain by his plot, but the plausibility of the plot was never in question. OmegaMan's style had always leaned toward senseless destruction.
SPEAR arranged for AlphaMale and BetaBoy to go undercover as members of the President's Secret Service bodyguard. Ordinarily Pierce would have just sent me, but these were special circumstances. Although Pierce had decided to trust me, in spite of the fact that I was not entirely the same man he had known for almost forty years, he had put AlphaMale, SPEAR agent, on probation. SPEAR spent days running tests on my body. They tested my strength, my speed, my agility, and my combat skills. In every way they found my capabilities unchanged from before my residency in AlphaMale's body. Since I knew everything AlphaMale had known, my body retained all the skills he had had, and I benefited from all his experience.
In addition SPEAR tested me to find clues as to how my mind - the mind of a middle-aged gay man from Los Angeles - had been placed in the body of the magnificent world famous hero AlphaMale. But nothing indicated where AlphaMale's consciousness had gone, and no one could begin to explain how my consciousness could have leapt from the parallel world I was from, where super heroes were young male fantasies, to this fantastic place, where they were reality.
Eventually, Pierce put me back on active duty, but Stewart worried about me. It wasn't because he thought I was less physically capable than Gordon was. I was just not completely Gordon. No one could be sure how I would react in a crisis.
For security reasons, the G-8 meetings were held at a different location every day. Several sites were prepared, but no one knew until the leaders arrived which site was to be used that day. On the third day the meetings were held in a sub-basement of the Kremlin. Security from each of the eight countries was posted throughout the building. Stewart and I were posted at the entrance of the actual meeting room.
Midmorning we heard rumbling noises from the street level. The agents watching the exterior reported several large troop trucks were approaching the building. Sharp shooters were ordered into position. The rumbling stopped. Then an explosion shook the building to its foundations. The radio reports through our earplugs conflicted, but apparently grenades and teargas had been lobbed at the building entrance. Militiamen poured out of the trucks wearing gas masks and, undercover of the tear gas, they penetrated the guard positions at the entrance to the building. Agents inside the building fired at them, but they appeared to be wearing bulletproof clothing. The agents that didn't fall to the militiamen's gunfire fell to their superb hand-to-hand combat techniques and physical prowess.
When the militiamen got within sight of the meeting room door I saw why. Not a one of them weighed less than 250 pounds. Although they couldn't have been super soldiers, they were obviously physically conditioned, chemically enhanced troops. Stewart and I weren't the least bit phased by their gunfire or their teargas, and as strong as they were, they might just as well have been children when they came at either of us. With the security of the world in danger, neither of us pulled punches. The first wave of them fell in a matter of minutes.
OmegaMan was at the head of the second wave. He playfully fired a few rounds into my gut, knowing I would barely feel them. Then he dropped his assault rifle and swung his fist with enough force to flatten a tractor-trailer. I stumbled back. Stewart blocked his advance with a steely outstretched arm. I clasped both my hands together and swung full force across his face. He fell backwards.
"Forget OmegaMan, BetaBoy, protect the President!" I shouted over the gunfire and explosions. The militiamen were taking advantage of the distraction OmegaMan had created and were starting to slip into the meeting room. The agents inside the room were already evacuating the leaders through a secret escape route, but who knew how fast they could get free, or what lay ahead of them. "I'll take care of OmegaMan!"
"But, Andy!" Stewart protested. Calling me Andy instead of AlphaMale or Gordon was his way of communicating why he didn't want to leave me. He was afraid that no matter how well my body remembered how to fight I might not be able to defeat OmegaMan on my own. OmegaMan was in every way my equal, and AlphaMale had needed BetaBoy's help plenty of times in the past.
Reluctantly he obeyed.
Propped up on his elbow, OmegaMan grinned at me. He got back on his feet and crouched in front of me, swinging his arms, like a wrestler taunting me, threatening to pounce. He dove at my midsection, knocking me to the ground. I kicked my legs up and throw him off me and over my head. He crashed into the wall and tumbled down on an antique side table, reducing it to splinters.
Back on his feet he dove at me again, this time at my face. He held my head, forced his lips on mine, and pried them open with his tongue. A bitter liquid squirted down my throat. My heart pounded and everything went black.
Now, I was his captive.
OmegaMan stood. He towered about my reclining form. Since Gordon had never doubted OmegaMan's heterosexuality, I struggled to keep my ballooning cock from rising straight up and over my stomach, keen to keep him from taking advantage of my strong attraction to him.
"I have brought you here to this place where we can be completely alone to settle forever which of us is truly the 'AlphaMale' as you call yourself. There is no one within hundreds of miles from us out here. There are no roads, no telephones. The only way out is by helicopter. I have sent it away. It will not return for a week. By then it will have only one passenger."
He extended his hand to me and pulled me to my feet.
"I want to wrestle you as the Greeks wrestled, naked. I want to kill you without weapons. I want to kill you with my own bare hands."
Though I had been heavily drugged a few hours ago, AlphaMale's magnificent body had completely recovered. It tingled with energy.
"What happened to the G-8?" I asked OmegaMan.
"You'll find out if you live. If you don't live, it won't matter to you," he said.
My heart pounded. I clenched my teeth. I felt all the anger and hatred that AlphaMale had built up over the years for this hateful, reckless and supremely arrogant prick. I wanted to kill him as much as he wanted to kill me, although I knew that AlphaMale always kept himself from acting on that final solution.
We circled each other, crouched, our chests heaving, muscles taut and sweat beading on our bodies. I dove at his midsection, but he forced me downwards. I fell through his legs and crashed to the floor, shaking the whole cottage. OmegaMan dropped to his knees and grabbed my raised ankle. He wrenched it sharply. I bucked and twisted, tossing him over my legs on his back. In an instant I had his shoulders pinned to the floor and his legs up in the air.
"Good move," he said, through heavy breaths. "But this isn't high school. We aren't playing for points."
We stood up. Our faces were red, but neither one of us was fatigued. We locked arms. The full strength of our tremendous physiques pushed into each other. Our feet dug at the floor. A foot, an inch, was lost for a time on either side as we tried to push each other to the floor. With our heads forced down I saw his cock thickening again. This time it started to lift itself upwards.
Without even realizing it, OmegaMan took advantage of the distraction. Suddenly he had me twisted around with my back to him, his thirty-inch arms under my arms, his hands locked behind my neck in a Full Nelson. I knew not even my incredible strength was enough to prevent this man, who was my physical equal, from snapping my neck. OmegaMan laughed.
AlphaMale would have been defeated, but I was not completely AlphaMale. I played a hunch that Gordon could never have had, but that Andy could see as clearly as daylight. I stopped struggling.
"Do it, why don't you!" I said. "It's what you've been waiting thirty years for, isn't it?"
One of OmegaMan's arms untwined from behind my neck and instead its hand gripped and squeezed my neck.
"Don't mock me!"
"You can snap my neck. You can choke me, but neither of those things is what you really want to do to me." I reached behind my back and laid my firm hand on his totally erect penis. I was right. "Is it?"
OmegaMan tightened his grip around my neck, but he also moaned loudly and longingly. I gently caressed his thick baseball bat of a dick.
"I'd say it's pretty obvious what you really want to do to me."
The blunt head of it brushed against my butt, and I backed into him forcefully, sliding it upward and pinning it tightly between us. OmegaMan loosened his grip and thrust his hips forward.
I laid his hands on my stiff dick. He grabbed it and squeezed tightly. My nipples inflated.
"This is much better, isn't it lover boy?" I said.
I twisted around. He almost refused to let go of my dick. Our broad, thick pecs tight together, I opened my mouth and kissed him on the lips. He accepted my tongue inside his mouth and sucked on it, hard! Then I laid both my hands on his immense chest and squeezed. It was magnificent, broad, latticed with blue veins, and carpeted with thick, curly brunette hair. He stared menacingly into my eyes as our tongues wrestled passionately. I broke our kiss, but not eye contact. OmegaMan's eyes drifted from my eyes down my chest. As OmegaMan stepped closer I lowered myself to the floor. He dropped to his knees. He fell forward, bracing his fall with his outstretched arms, and he held himself above me while he renewed his stare into my eyes. I wrapped my ankles around his waist and guided his prick into my ass. He was even thicker than I was and easily as long. If he hadn't needed it so desperately, penetrating me might have been a chore for him. The feeling of even the first inch of him took my breath away, but he didn't wait for me to get acclimated. As he thrust deeper his abs bunched and bulged, his intercostals popped out, the veins on his forehead twitched and his jaw went slack. I braced myself at first, then teased him by alternately pulling him in with my ass muscles and resisting his entry. At the last few inches I locked my ankles together and pulled his groin into me. When every last inch was home he let loose with a string of Russian obscenities.
It only took him a moment for him to start fucking me, at first slow and easy, then harder and faster, all the while swearing, at the demons that had plagued him since he'd first been created. He stopped looking me in the eyes. He concentrated completely on pounding his dick into my butt. I massaged and pulled at his prick with my ass and marveled at the dark beauty of his undulating musculature. In a way he was masculinity incarnate, even more than I was, because he was not only immensely powerful, he was completely at ease with all of his destructive impulses. Eventually I relinquished control completely to him and luxuriated in his possession of my body. The two of us grunted like animals, aware of nothing but the intense sexual pleasure we were giving each other. Finally he screamed and clenched every muscle in his body, as though he unloaded not only his jism inside me, but decades of anguished repression. His explosions inside me were so powerful I could feel the cum squirting down the length of his fuck pole and splattering into my intestines. Then the sound of his orgasm sent me over the edge. I spurted each time he rammed into my ass, until my own ejaculations synchronized with his. He beat my dick with his fist, almost believing my dick and my explosions were his as well. When the cum ceased to flow he collapsed atop me, completely limp. The weight of him might have been uncomfortable, but instead I welcomed the burden. I accepted his weight as my own.
The cum began to dry between our chests. I rolled the two of us over so that I was on top of him. I tried to raise myself up on my elbows, but OmegaMan tightened his grip on me. I looked at his face. It was wet. He'd been crying. I pressed my lips on his. He sucked hard at my mouth.
I eased his softening dick out of my ass. His coarse, hairy chest rubbing against my hard nipples and sensitive abs had made me hard again. I broke our kiss tenderly and raised his legs up high. He looked up at me with alarm as I poked my cock at his butt hole, but I could see his dick start to swell in anticipation.
He was tight, like a virgin, so I guess he'd not only repressed his attraction to me, he'd repressed his attraction to all other men as well. I pushed harder and my horse cock slowly slid deeper. OmegaMan gritted his teeth in pain. The muscles all over his body tensed and bulged, exciting me even more. I wrapped my hand around as much of his long, extra thick cock as I could, and jacked it firmly and slowly. He unclenched his teeth and gasped in pleasure.
The rest of my cock slid all the way in. I drooled saliva on as much of his cock as I could and massaged the spit into it as I began to fuck him. Working the whole thing with one hand was quite a chore, since it stretched all the way up to his pecs and it's head easily filled my fist, and I needed my other hand to prop myself up. But the way his silky hot ass tugged along my dick flesh made it more than worthwhile.
After a while he was grooving so much on the feeling of getting fucked that he removed my hand from his dick. He let his eyes rove all over our bodies and explored every inch of me with his hands. I slowed down because I sensed he enjoyed being fucked by me even more than he loved fucking me. Eventually his breath went shallow, his muscles tensed, his dick jerked and spewed cum over his head, on his face and all over his chest. The spasms inside his ass sucked and jerked at my dick and I fired like an automatic weapon inside him. The rest of the week we took full advantage of the seclusion of his dacha. By the end of our time together OmegaMan was a changed man. Although no less aggressive, his destructive impulses were channeled in more productive directions. And ultimately he learned that it can be just as exciting to be dominated as it as it was to dominate.
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