Ambrose continued to watch the man train. It was strange that the Brass leader was training without any guards. It was common to have a couple of aides around to train in peace. But, after surveying the wrestling ring, it was empty — except for both of them.

Despite his most diligent effects, Ambrose could hardly gather any details on Minotaur, other than his powerful raw brute strength.

“His guard,” gritted Ambrose. “There’s no opening… Got to be patient.”

His hand reached back to his set of weapons, a pair of circular throwing blades known as Chakrams. When the time was right, he would strike down this brute and teach him not to mess with the String again.

The String leader shifted uncomfortably and waited for his target to let his guard down. The air was thick of the man’s sweaty musk.

Chapter 4

*BAM! BAM!*

A loud slamming sound echoed around the ring, followed by another quickly behind.

Levi Zaman was drenched in his sweat. His naked muscle-bound body was displaying raw, powerful masculinity. His broad shoulders, thick bulging arms, and perfectly sculptured torso were at their peak condition.

Despite being focused on his punching dummy, Levi felt something was amiss. Someone had infiltrated his ring, and it was someone skilled. He could not pinpoint where the infiltrator was, but he knew he was the target. After all, he clearly instructed his division to clear out whenever he did his training due to the effects of his ability.

The Brass leader felt excited. Rarely anyone dared to challenge him. Born and grown in the deepest and darkest part of Bismuth, Levi trained himself through countless brawls and bloodshed. Power and strength drove the man to be who he is today. Weakness was unacceptable. Over time, Levi made a reputation for himself as one of the most brutal and powerful forces to reckon with, giving him the name… Minotaur.

“Who is this person?” Minotaur wondered as another powerful punch slammed into the dummy. “How cowardly to hide for so long.”

Impatient, he decided it might be quicker to get the infiltrator to reveal himself. Minotaur grinned slyly as he stopped his punches. He bounced around on his toes before switching over to his kicking practice.

*Bam! Bam! Bam!*

His kicks were getting higher… higher… higher.

Suddenly, the muscled man missed his kick and stumbled to his side. In that brief moment, he felt a shift in the air as a metallic object flew toward him from behind one of the columns.

“There you are.”

In mid-fall, he grabbed onto the spinning metal weapon. Then, with a quick motion, he flung the weapon back to the source, crashed it into the stone pillar, and utterly destroyed it in that split second.

His eyes spotted a purplish figure darted out quickly before landing squarely on his feet in the wrestling ring. Minotaur recognized the figure, and he smiled, “Ah… Ambrose.”

The young man in a purple oversized cloak and matching garment stared back. His assassination attempt had failed, but his eyes were still determined.

“Minotaur,” Ambrose said back coldly in acknowledgment.

Minotaur’s eyes gleamed hungrily. His body tingled with excitement for combat. “I always wondered when you will finally show yourself here. How many of the String guys do I have to take down before you grace me with your presence?”

Ambrose glared back furiously as his Chakram flew back into his hand. “We are all part of Banshee Ensemble. Why do you need to do this?”

“Wrong. Not a need,” smiled Minotaur. “A want.”

“Power is what I seek. In Rustmore, there’s no need for the weak. The String division, in my eyes, consists only of weak fools who think that they can get the better of others by being cowards.”

Minotaur paused as his eyes drilled onto Ambrose. “Even the String leader has to hide in the shadow like a fucking coward to ambush me.”

Ambrose tilted his head in irritation. This man in front of him was daringly challenging countless arts of assassination.

“If you got the guts and power, you would have faced me head-on instead of hiding and resorting to despicable means.” Minotaur challenged, “It just shows how weak String is. Brass will take it all.”

Ambrose was usually calm and collected. But this man was pushing so many of his buttons that he could not help but frown in rage. Ambrose said as calmly as he could as he assumed his battle stance, “You’ve got this coming for you. You will regret messing with String.”

Chapter 5

Deadly throwing blades swerved around in the thick musky air.

Ambrose stood firmly on his feet as the battle went on. Despite being the large brute, Minotaur was surprisingly agile as well. As a result, his opponent was able to block off most of his attacks with the handle of the golden bullwhip in his hand.

Ambrose needed to overwhelm the man with a barrage of attacks. Using the metallic balls from his utility pouches, he tossed egg-sized balls into the air. He sent them hurtling towards Minotaur from all directions, hammering into his muscular frame like a rain of punches.

“ARGHHHH!” roared Minotaur as he dispersed the metallic balls with his bare hands.

The ground was slightly damp with his sweat. Then, with his whip in his hand, he grinned excitedly at Ambrose as he again blocked off another blade from slicing his back wide open.

The air was thick with their sweat as the battle continued. Ambrose launched ranged attacks onto Minotaur, who fended off with brute strength. It was clear that Ambrose was gaining the upper hand as the continuous barrage of attacks showed up on Minotaur’s bare body.

Suddenly, Ambrose felt the air shift. A strong murderous intent was seeping out of his rival. It seemed that Minotaur was getting serious.

*Crack!*

Ambrose watched as Minotaur finally unleashed his bullwhip. He got to be careful. That whip was the man’s signature weapon. A rumor was that it could sap the opponent’s energy upon contact.

Minotaur cracked his whip again to knock off the levitating metal balls and chakrams as he marched towards the master assassin. Ambrose took a few steps back as he continued to manipulate the magnetic fields in the area to strike down the bull.

*Crack!*

The whip snapped at the ground just to the left of Ambrose’s feet.

*Crack!*

This time, the right.

“Shit! Too close!” thought Ambrose as he watched the whip retract. His gaze returned to Minotaur, but it was too late!

The Brass leader was charging toward him, and before Ambrose could react, he was tackled with the brutal force of the bull. Ambrose quickly braced for impact, but the menacing force was too great. His slender body would easily be destroyed by that towering bullish man.

A deadly but impressively display of pure power.

Ambrose felt every inch of his body hurt as he slammed into the ground. His rival’s impossibly muscular body was pinning him down. A thick wave of musk flooded his sense with how close the man was to him. Despite his struggles, he could not get out from under the beast. Minotaur seemed to weigh a million tons. His hands pushed down on Ambrose’s chest, and his ass rested on Ambrose’s hip.

Ambrose was nothing but an insect to this beast, dwarfed by the mountain. His rival’s arms were as thick as Ambrose’s thighs, grappling him and making him unable to break free.

The scent. The musk.

Something is weird.

In his compromised position, Ambrose could feel his dick getting harder in response. He could feel Minotaur’s whole body crushing against his, sweaty and musky, subduing him… making him submit.

The helpless assassin watched in disbelief, gasping for air as Minotaur tore off his loincloth, slapping his large flaccid cock on Ambrose’s purple shirt. Then, Minotaur grabbed his sweaty cock and stroked it on Ambrose.

“What the fuck…?” grunted Ambrose. His arms were pinned down to his side by Minotaur’s tree-trunk thighs. Minotaur placed his hands on Ambrose’s gorgeous face, smearing his cock musk all over the assassin’s cheeks, nose and mouth. A wave of lust came over Ambrose. “F-Fuck…”

Minotaur smiled arrogantly, “Enjoy my little assassin. You seemed so confident. Don’t know about my other ability, do you?”

Ambrose had a look of confusion on his face. It was getting harder to think. His mind was just on his rival’s thick and musky sweat. “What?”

He grabbed Ambrose’s face with his entire hand. The scent was intoxicating.

“Smell it. It will drive you crazy for me,” said Minotaur with a smirk. Ambrose was his plaything now. The String leader’s fate was sealed when he entered the musk-filled stadium.

Minotaur lifted his right hand off Ambrose’s chest and reached behind. The String leader started to kick violently as he felt the hand grabbing his hardened crotch. It sent shudders up his spine as the hand began to stimulate his erection.

“GET. GET OFF!” yelled Ambrose as he started to panic. He pushed with all his might, but there was no way he could overpower the mammoth of a man. He could only get harder than he had ever been.

Chapter 6

Ambrose felt his signature purple cloak pulled off his frame and tossed to a corner. Dressed only in his purple shirt and black tights, he felt vulnerable in the overwhelming presence of the Minotaur.

Minotaur’s hand reached out to grab Ambrose’s arms and wrapped his energy-sapping whip around his wrists, extending them over his head. Ambrose strained and wriggled weakly to get free, but it was futile. He could feel a wave of exhaustion as his energy was quickly drained off. The Brass leader had completed dominated him in battle.

Once the String leader’s hands were tightly bound, Minotaur tossed the other end of his bullwhip over the overhead pulley system for the wrestling ring and tied it back down. Ambrose was now barely standing on his tiptoes with his slender arms stretched above his head, completely vulnerable. The weakened master assassin kicked his legs desperately, trying to break free.

“Let me go,” muttered Ambrose weakly. It was true that the whip was sapping away his energy. He looked at the metal balls and his chakram blades on the ground. Summoning his strength, he could hardly make them budge. “Too… weak.”

Minotaur came close to his face, to the point where the intoxicating musk was overwhelming his mind again. There was a smirk on the Brass leader’s face as he grabbed his checks roughly with his hand, holding his face up.

Another hand went south, feeling the assassin’s washboard abs, tracing the contours of his rippled muscles. His dark purple top was lifted higher, exposing the leader’s well-trained sculpted torso.

“Let… me go!” muttered Ambrose again. His eyes were slightly dazed out from the poisoning scent. He could hardly hold himself together at this point.

Minotaur’s shirtless body was glistering with sweat in the spotlights. He brushed the sweat off his chest and pits with his bare hands, covering them in his aphrodisiac sweat. The brute flashed his arrogant smile as his hands reached down under.

Ambrose stared aghast as he watched his opponent scratch his foul balls. He swallowed hard, now knowing the man’s abilities. “Please… no!”

Minotaur took his musk-filled hands and shoved his thumb into Ambrose’s mouth. The struggling assassin tried to prevent the filthy intrusion, but the thumb pushed through his lips and began ravaging the insides of his mouth.

The taste. The smell of this powerful man. It’s… so good!

Ambrose tried to moan out in protest, but his eyes rolled up in his sockets as his mouth started to clasp around the finger and his tongue slurping up the balls’ sweat.

“Oh… Fuck-,” moaned Ambrose as his cock twitched uncontrollably in his crotch. This was humiliating!

Why does this taste so good? Why?

His mind was drunk on his rival’s scent and taste. He needed more.

Solid and powerful hands gripped onto the edges of his shirt. Then, with a forceful tug, Minotaur ripped off his rival’s clothes, exposing the String leader’s slender waist, toned abs, and lightly-haired pits. Ambrose let off a moan as the large hands grabbed against his stretched-out pecs from behind.

“Resist! I can’t…” muttered Ambrose to himself. The fingers, groping his chest, found their way to his sensitive nipples. “Ah! But… it feels so good.”

Rough fingers caressed the ridges of his ribs, down to his navel, playing his the contours around his belly button.

“Please… Stop,” said Ambrose. His breath was heavy with lust. The fingers reached in and pulled down his black tights, revealing a black jockstrap underneath.

A hint of panic rang out amidst the thick lust in his head.

“No…” moaned the helpless leader. Even though Ambrose was quite sizable, Minotaur’s massive hand easily grabbed both his cock and ball sack in his pouch.

Minotaur smirked from behind Ambrose’s ears as he enjoyed the fullness of his rival’s balls. “Exactly as I thought, String is weak and will only be my bitch.”

Ambrose shuddered as he heard the word “bitch”. This man had him in his grasp now… literally.

He felt the thick muscular arms wrapped around his neck and pulled his naked body close between the colossal slabs of pectoral muscles. His eyes closed shut as he whiffed in the intoxicating aphroditic sweat pouring from the raw muscular body.

He needed to get out of Minotaur’s embrace, but… it felt too comforting.

His body slackened from the manly scent. Despite his trained willpower, his resistance was rapidly crumbling under the spell of this man’s musk. He could not believe that he was so careless to have underestimated his opponent.

Damn it!

Chapter 7

The grip on his wrists relaxed, causing Ambrose to drop back down on his knees. Something slapped across his cheeks, followed by a lustful and robust smell. Ambrose tried to blink his eyes, only to see a large but flaccid penis in front of his face.

“Fuck!” Ambrose said as he instinctively moved his head backward. But he couldn’t. A pair of strong hands grabbed the back of his head, fingers through his thick black hair, pulling him closer to the penis.

Being so close to Minotaur’s manhood, the musky scent was overwhelming. Ambrose could hardly think. The thick rod looked almost mesmerizing. Something at the back of his mind was screaming for him to get out of here, but he could not move an inch as the cock slapped his lips, moistening them with a line of pre-cum.

As Minotaur pushed his thick and hardening cock into his defeated rival’s mouth, he let out a bellow of victory. “Oh FUCK! Yes! String is Brass’s bitch!”

He could feel his rival’s tongue wrapping around his cock. By now, Ambrose should be deeply entranced by his musk. This handsome String leader was now a slave to his scent.

Minotaur firmly held the young leader’s head and pushed his hips deep into Ambrose’s face. A slight jerk reaction before the body relaxed. Getting off on his own manly scent, Minotaur began face-fucking the zonked-out rival without mercy. He rammed his dick deep into Ambrose’s throat, leaking volumes of his aphrodisiac pre-cum into the master assassin’s mouth.

With a “pop” sound, Minotaur removed his saliva-coated cock and rubbed it all over Ambrose’s dazed expression. The master assassin was out of it now. On his knees, the String leader could not help it. An urge to make the mammoth in front of him feel good.

Ambrose began licking his cock and balls with utmost desire, ensuring that he slurped up every inch of the delicious musk. He was going through every nook and cranny of Minotaur’s crotch and ball sack, getting more intoxicated by his rival’s unique smell.

He sucked and rolled his tongue over both of his rival’s massive balls, one at a time, as they were too large to stuff both into his mouth.

As his tongue was eagerly stroking the musky privates, his mind slowly lost into how overpowering the scent was. His eyes rolled back as he felt the massive cockhead slamming against the back of his throat again, feeding him with more of the sweet delicious pre-cum.

“Shit! Yeah. String’s mouth is so smooth,” Minotaur moaned as he thrust forward even more. The head brushed against the roof of his rival’s mouth and slid in further. The large man grabbed the side of the head and pulled him in closer, making Ambrose gag and swallow frantically.

“F-Fuck! That’s good!”

“Mmpphf!! Mmmphhf!” Ambrose was struggled to keep from gagging on the thick cock.

“I’m getting close,” Minotaur said after a while, his deep voice now almost a growl. His brows furrowed as the massive mountain panted heavily.

Hearing that only made Ambrose more eager. He needed more. He needed to taste the pureness of his rival’s aphrodisiac cum. On his own account, he began to bob his head back and forward more eagerly, only to feel the hands around his head tighten.

“Oh, no! You don’t,” said the voice as the dick popped out from his mouth, slamming over his cheeks. With a firm shove, Minotaur pushed the String leader off his knees, sending him to collapse onto the sandy ground.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Minotaur said as he turned to retrieve something from the sandy ground.

Chapter 8

Resting, Ambrose felt cold and a little lonely. He hadn’t had anyone in his solitary life to have made him feel this way before. This rival. This Minotaur.

The scent, the musk. He could not get enough.

Where… Where did Minotaur go?

He immediately got his answer when strong hands grabbed onto his hips and lifted his ass into the air. His cheeks pushed against the sandy ground and his elbows propped up to support his slender yet muscular body. Dressed only in his jockstrap, Ambrose could feel his cock growing rapidly as his vulnerable asshole was now exposed to his rival.

“Please…” begged Ambrose with his ass up in the air. He could hear some metallic clangs but could only anticipate what the Brass leader had in mind.

Something cold and wet touched the ring of his chute. Ambrose’s eyes widened with a mix of shock and pleasure. What…?

Minotaur was pushing something into his ass. Wet with his saliva, it felt round. “Argh!” let out Ambrose as the metal object was stretched out his virgin pucker and pushed into his chute.

“FUCK! My metal balls… Into my ass,” thought Ambrose in horror as his hands clutched tightly together, drawing in balls of sands.

Pain! Pleasure! The young leader tried to move his ass away but was quickly pulled back for another insertion. He was helpless to stop the intrusion. His rim was too tired to push back against it. The beast continued to insert another after another ruthlessly.

“Please! No more!” begged Ambrose as he could feel the five egg-sized balls clashing against each other in his insides. His cock twitched early each time one of the balls brushed against his sensitive prostate.

“All filled up, bitch,” laughed Minotaur as he flipped the assassin over to his back.

He lifted Ambrose’s legs effortlessly into the air, spreading them wide until Ambrose felt like he could not possibly open them any wider. He could feel the still air against his saliva-coated and stretched-out pucker.

His cock twitched and pulsed eagerly in the confines of his black jockstrap as he felt the tip of the bull’s cock poke against the entrance of his hole. But instead of penetrating him, Minotaur began humping his thick and veiny shaft against his hole, running the cock over it, teasingly but not yet pushing it in.

Ambrose was going crazy! With the musky air and the ass teasing, he trembled with the feeling of how thick and long his rival’s cock was.

Each time the Brass leader thrust his hips forward, Ambrose could not help but feel an electrifying pleasure shoot up his spine. The anticipation of his own humiliation and downfall somehow excited him.

Then, without warning, Minotaur shifted his weight forward and began poking the virgin hole with the tip of his hard cock, forcing out a trembling moan from Ambrose. His rival’s ankles were now on his broad, slender shoulders, his knees against his cheek.

Sweat dripped from the wet head of his rival and trickled down the young assassin’s face. A thin stream flowed into Ambrose’s mouth. His tongue instinctively darted out, savoring the salty and delicious musk.

“Oh… God!” Ambrose moaned as he felt even more vulnerable and exposed. In his last desperate attempt, he wiggled his ass a little to escape, but all it did was rubbing his hole against the cockhead.

“Take this, my String bitch,” smirked a sweaty Minotaur as he pressed his cock against the hole and shoved it with an unexpected and powerful force.

Ambrose let out a pained scream. It almost felt like his body was being split apart by the thickness of his rival. A mixture of shame and pleasure filled his head as his mind blank out.

The feeling of being violated by his nemesis, his rival. His luscious and slender body was overpowered entirely and treated like a piece of meat. His body shuddered at the thought that he would soon be his rival’s fuck toy.

“Ohhhh…” he moaned in heat as the pain transformed. Instead of rejecting Minotaur, Ambrose relaxed his hole, expanding to let in more of the villainous cock.

The thick cock was pushing the metal balls deeper into him. A persistent pressure pressed down on his prostate. An explosion of pleasure now erupted in his mind, blinding the assassin.

His tongue hung out and drooling uncontrollably. His own erected member was tenting in the black jockstrap, pressing the fabric away from his body, slightly exposing the shaft of his cock.

Minotaur reached down to explore his rival’s beautiful torse. His touch was rough and ruthless, molesting the young man’s pecs, kneading them like dough. He forcefully pinched and yanked the brown nipples without mercy, causing Ambrose to let out a yelp. “Please! Argh! Stop!”

The overall sensation was painful but immensely pleasurable. Ambrose was unsure if it was the humiliation he was enjoying, the brutal way Minotaur was handling his body, or the aphrodisiac musk in the air. All he knew was that this was a massive turn-on, and he needed more from this mountain of a man.

Fully lodged, Minotaur grunted loudly like a beast. He could feel the tightness of his rival’s inside, clutching tightly against his entire shaft. His cock slightly brushed against the metal balls inside, sending them rattling against each other, forcing his new toy to moan out loud.

It was time to turn String into his cock bitch. Ambrose was lying down with his jaws opened, heaving heavily with a glassed-out expression. How delightful!

Without mercy, Minotaur pulled out and rammed his thick cock back in with raw powerful force. He began thrusting with all his strength, slamming his hips against his rival’s bubble butt. Six of his large abdominal muscles contracted and relaxed with each thrust, displaying the mighty power of the Minotaur.

“AH!” screamed Ambrose as he was not prepared for the ravaging of his ass. “AH! NO! FUCK!”

Pain. Pleasure. Pain. Pleasure.

The sensations seemed to oscillate between extreme ends of the spectrum. Ambrose could hardly form any thoughts as the overwhelming senses hit him like a train. He yelped and wiggled, trying to escape the unsparing force fucking him senselessly.

“Please!! AH! Have mercy! Please!” The String leader whimpered in a submissive tone.

He felt the ground shake, and his body shivered. He could feel the metal balls in his ass tickling his prostate, the thick veiny cock ravaging his rim. His weakened body went limp as a series of soft moans came out from his mouth, each one a little louder than the last.

The feeling of being completely manhandled like that was bringing him to the edge.

Suddenly, Ambrose could feel the cock in him throttled even more violently than before. He looked up and saw Minotaur letting out an earth-shaking roar.

“AHHHH! FUCK! YES, BITCH!”

The beast roared out with intense pleasure as his cock exploded like a cannon. Hot steaming cum ejected into his rival’s hot ass. Minotaur thrust his hip in deep, making sure to seed the String leader completely. Every muscle on his mammoth-like frame flexed and bulged to its limits as he continued to fire load after load.

Feeling the warm seeds flooding his canals drove Ambrose over the edge. “Fuck… Shit! I’m cumming…” he moaned out in a slutty voice, throwing his head back, succumbing to the overpowering domination of Minotaur. Thick white cum burst out from his cock, filling up the insides of his black jockstrap, straining it completely.

Despite the intense situation, he noticed a familiar yellowish hue in Minotaur’s eyes.

It can’t… It can’t be.

“Ah!” Ambrose cried out as the throbbing of the thick cock brought him back instantly. His face was contorted in a sweet delight, rolling his eyes further back and making weak utters of lustful whimpers as the long dick slid out of him.

A blob of cum pulsed out from his wrinkled and used pucker.

“So… full…” said Ambrose as he felt his mind drifting. The complete sexual exhaustion had left him feeling completely spent. He felt an incoming urge rising in his bowels.

*Pop!*

One of his metal balls shot out from his ass, covered with his rival’s thick cum. It slowly rolled away across the sandy ground.

*Pop!*

*Pop!*

*Pop!*

“Ha ha ha,” laughed Minotaur. “My bitch is laying eggs. How fitting.”

Ambrose cringed his face in agony and shame as he forced the last one out. With his eyes shut, he begged weakly, “Please… don’t look.”

*Pop!*

The last one was out.

Ambrose sighed as sheer exhaustion overtook him. His vision darkened. He had never looked forward to enjoying this sweet emptiness.

Chapter 9

The ground felt cold and empty. A hint of the familiar musk lingered from the dried-up cum around him.

His vision was still blurry. Almost every part of his body hurts. His ass, his cock, his head. Ambrose had never felt so empty before. His body was completely drained of energy. Gathering what was left of his strength, he picked up his purple cloak from the sandy ground.

Something caught his eye.

Large words in the sand.

“String will always be…” The String leader muttered with a shiver. “Brass’s bitch.”

Humiliated, the String leader limped off the wrestling ring with his dignity shredded to bits.

Fuck you, Minotaur.