Warehouse Punk
by
Gym Dude
by
Gym Dude
Short
of money and long on time, I needed work and a friend said there was a
warehouse hiring down at the docks. The economy in East Texas had caused
a major slowdown in housing construction and the money was OK. This part
of Texas gets pretty warm in the summer and working in the shade for once, had
a certain appeal. As I signed up, the boss looked me over and hired me on the
spot. He didn’t even check my application and responded “I’d say you’ve
got perfect credentials for this job”.
Swinging
a hammer all day and the hard work of construction does help keep a man toned
and it doesn’t take long in the Texas sun to develop a world class tan. I
put my time in at the gym to make sure I stay in shape and the combination of
heavy weights and hard work have kept my 6’2” frame down to a lean 225
pounds. I am blessed with good genetics and would say I’ve developed a
“bodybuilder’s build”, but I’ve got a long ways to go. My lifting buddies
say I should compete, but I don’t think I’m ready for that.
My
first day there was spent finding my way around, filling out a bunch of forms
and meeting the guys. It didn’t take long to see exactly why I was hired.
Every man I met had one thing in common, they were all put together pretty
well. I noticed something else, that they were all fairly young, in fact,
at 25 I was easily the oldest guy there. Many of the guys were still in
high school, various sizes but all pretty buff. Mostly jocks working for
the summer. The rest were college age, but I got the distinct impression
most of them weren’t in college. These guys looked to be jocks or former
jocks, they had a more mature look but still appeared lean and hard. More
than a few looked like they might be pretty tough.
Most
of us wore jeans and t-shirts or tanks, which happens to be my standard uniform
anyhow. My 501’s shrink-to-fit, but in my case, need to stretch to fit as
well. 501s seem to be the only pants that will shrink small enough for my
waist and still stretch enough to fit my thighs. After I’ve had them on
for an hour or so, they fit just right and make the impression I want. I
have to get my t-shirts XXL to fit my chest, shoulders and arms, but even those
stretch a lot to accommodate my 18+” guns. After they’ve been washed a
few times, they “snug up” around my waist, not tight, but enough to take up the
extra fabric and show off a nice taper and more than a hint of the great ab
work that lies beneath. I picked sky blue to start with. I figured
that would make my best impression, let the guys know that this was the best
body in the place, but still look friendly and non-threatening. I’d save
my black muscle shirts for later.
The
very first day made it real clear why they picked us. The work was
HARD. You’re required to move lots of bulky boxes, odd shapes and
sometimes heavy, from difficult locations over to the loading dock for trucks
to pick up. Fork lifts would be used from the ground below, but didn’t
have the clearance to work inside. I was used to pushing some very
respectable poundage in the gym, but my workouts never lasted for 8 or 10
hours! That night, resting against the shower wall, I could feel muscles
I didn’t know I had.
The
next day, I heard some grunting and groaning in the next isle over from the one
I was working on. As I turned the corner to investigate, I found Sam
trying to get a grip on an odd shaped and obviously very heavy box. Sam
was a 17-year-old stud, with a capital ‘S’. A varsity linebacker on his
high school team, he wanted the heavy work to help bulk up for next
season. Sam didn’t look like he needed bulked up to me, he’s one of these
guys who is almost always in a tank top, but he’s one of the few that can
actually wear one and make it work. Standing 6’4”, Sam has me by a good 20
or 30 pounds and every ounce is premium grade ‘A’ beef. It is hard for me
to imagine him struggling with anything. Together, we worked the box out
and when it was clear, and he rested for a moment, I helped steady him as we
got it balanced on his shoulder. You could tell that even with his
magnificent young body, the kid was just about handling his limit. Out of
pride, or just male ego, I knew better than to help him carry it, but I did
stay close enough to help just in case he began to lose it. The kid made
it to the dock just fine and with little more than a ‘controlled drop’
positioned the box on the dock.
Surprised
at the weight and how we would be expected to lift boxes like that, I asked
Sam, “Damn! Doesn’t it make you wonder how they got that in here in the
first place?”
“Oh.”
Sam replied almost matter-of-factly, “Dave brought it in”.
“Dave?
I don’t think I’ve met Dave.”
“You’d
remember Dave. He’s the guy with all the muscles.”
Now,
I’m 225 and a well-trained stud if I do say so myself, and Sam is a major horse
and yet he’s referring to THIS GUY with admiration! I knew I had not yet met
anyone fitting that description, but I wanted to.
It
was a few days later and I was working with a kid I didn’t know, moving some
medium size boxes around. We were both quiet and keeping to
ourselves. Things were going well. After a while we took a break
and I reached out my hand and introduced myself.
“Hi,
we haven’t met. My names Rick.”
“Welcome
aboard Rick, I’m Dave.” And he reached out to shake hands. I was pretty
stunned since he was shorter and lighter than I expected. Immediately I
decided, this must be another ‘Dave’. When we clasped hands, I gripped
one of the thickest, most solidly powerful hands I had ever run
across. The kid had a fair grip and knew better than to use much of
the strength that I suspected was waiting inside. Could this be the
legendary Dave?
The
kid is just 21, but looks older in many ways. He’s got Hazel eyes and closely
trimmed blond hair. At 5’10, I peg him to be about 190 pounds. Like many
kids, he wears baggy clothes and even on warm days is almost always in long
sleeve cotton shirts. Except for those ham-hock hands and a more solid
than usual neck, the only sign of real muscle you can detect is his
‘traps’. An obviously thick ridge of muscle angles up across his
shoulders and merges with that powerful looking neck. Occasionally, he’ll
actually roll up his sleeves and you find forearms to match that neck.
Thick, solid and well trained.
It
was hard for me to size this guy up. He hasn’t got the lean, sleek
musculature of a gymnast, but he’s got those powerful hands. He doesn’t
have the height and bulk for football, but he’s got the power and speed ....
well, small school football is a possibility. He’s got a good body for
baseball, but that’s not going to develop his frame like this. He’s got
to be a wrestler and if that neck and those forearms are any indication, he’s
spent more than his share of time on the mats. Gawd, can you imagine
getting caught in those hands? I’ll bet there weren’t many guys to
successfully break HIS grip.
From
Sam’s description, I was expecting at least the Incredible Hulk. From
what stood before me, I couldn’t tell if he had a great build and didn’t care
for the attention it caused or if his whole act was a bluff. As the days
went on, you couldn’t help but notice the guy possessed exceptional balance and
coordination. He would easily lift large, bulky boxes over his shoulder
and carry them as though they were nothing. He never needed to take time
repositioning them like the rest of us, he always got it right the first
time. Dave was always ready and eager to lift boxes that the other guys
couldn’t handle alone, press them overhead and take them out as though it was
no big thing. The kid was certainly impressive. But what amazed me
most was that he NEVER showed off his build, only his strength, as though
everyone could do the same thing.
In
casual conversation, I learned that he was a successful wrestler in school and
played some high school football. I guess I pegged that pretty close. He
wrestled well enough to go to college on a full-ride scholarship but dropped
out in his senior year, I never found out why.
As
I got to know him, I found Dave to be a physical guy who likes to play around,
it doesn’t look like he is trying to physically intimidate the other guys, but
that was always the clear result. He’d playfully lock on a side headlock
or fire off an unexpected punch to the abs or shoulder. Keep in mind that
all of these guys are strong, rugged dudes, but privately, the guys would
sometimes complain to one another about how hard Dave punches, but he doesn’t
know he’s hurting them. It wouldn’t hurt him, so it must not hurt them.
To
the guys, I was the unknown quantity. Tall at 6’2” and a decent build,
with 225 pounds and a 31” waist. I’d been working out on and off my whole life,
but heavy into bodybuilding the past two years. I get in to the gym 5 or
6 days a week and I train hard.
During
a quiet time one day Dave lined up to playfully punch me in the abs. He
fired off a shot, but got no reaction. Dave was not used to this; every
other guy would double over or at least flinch. He looked surprised, then
grinned his broad friendly smile that popped up every time he was ready to have
some real fun.
“Hey!
You’re pretty solid, man!” Dave took a boxer’s stance then doubled the
force and fired off a couple of well placed combinations. Left, Right,
Left, Right, they popped solidly to their unobstructed target. He laughed
playfully, then upped the ante again with a real solid Left/Right to the center
of my abs.
I
stood my ground and didn’t flinch a muscle. You could see that Dave was
not used to that. Still smiling, but not nearly as wide, he backed off a
pace, cautious about my next move. I figured Dave always liked to “play
fight” so it would be a good excuse if anyone ever complained. His
defense would be “Gee, I didn’t know he couldn’t take it! I hardly tapped
him!” Dave would get off the hook and the other guy would look like more
of a wimp than he already did. Now Dave had found someone who didn’t back down,
someone he could not intimidate and that fact alone intimidated him! He
was startled by the look in my eyes, not knowing what I would do next.
“Whoa,
whoa! Just playing, you know?”
“What’s
the matter?” I asked as stepped forward and closed the space between us.
“Take
it easy dude! Don’t mess with me! You look like you’re getting
ready to mess with me. Don’t you do it!” Dave tried to make it
sound like a threat, as though he was warning me about his prowess, but he was
also backing up while he did it.
“Listen
little buddy” I said in a condescending tone, “First; If I want to mess
with you, you’re going to get messed with. Second; If you’re smart,
you’ll spend a lot more time finding out about your opponent before you start
screwing around with a guy, especially a guy my size. You may not know
it, but you’re writing checks your body can’t cash! Third; If you want to
test your fists on my abs, I got no problem with that. Just be real
careful.”
An
unexpected look of confusion came across his face, “Be careful?”
“Yeah.”,
I went on. “You wouldn’t be the first guy to break his hand or wrist
doing just what you’re doing tonight. I wouldn’t want to see you laid up
and off work because of some stupid stunt. Besides, did you ever stop to
think about what would happen if this went beyond playing around? You’re
not in bad shape for a kid, but you have no idea who you’re screwing
with! Just be real thankful I’m in a good mood.”
“Yeah,
right!” He backed off a pace and tried to laugh it off as though I were
joking but I wasn’t smiling. As he walked away, he kept peeking over his
shoulder to see if I was going to follow him.
I
was half-screwing with his head, but all the time I really enjoyed his attempts
at intimidation. I liked the physical contact and the thought that the
more he tried to work on me, the less and less he knew about what was going to
happen next. The kid was strong and his fists were formidable
weapons. He had every man in the plant afraid to mix it up with him,
every man but one.
I
would go out of my way to leave myself open whenever he was around. Dave
would sneak a shot now and then and a few were pretty solid, but he never got
the pay-off he wanted. Gradually, he just quit trying.
One
night leaving work, we were the last two in the parking lot. Our cars
were parked farthest from the door, near the end of the building. We
exchanged some small talk, then I asked if he was still lifting.
“Yeah.
I get in two or three times a week. I don’t have as much time as I used
to. Why?”
“Well,
I really enjoy it and don’t have many people around who share the same interests
as me. It looked like you were tapering off, you know, just not looking
as sharp or solid as you used to. And I notice you seem to be afraid to
use your fists on me like you used to. I hope I don’t scare you too
much. I know even for a lifter; bigger lifters can be
intimidating.” I was pushing all the right buttons. This would be a
perfect chance the egg him on until he challenged me, then I’d have a clear
shot at seeing what this little muscle stud is really made of. I was
banking on the fact that he’d been in enough fights and was man enough not to
press charges or complain to management about getting whipped. Hell, his
ego probably wouldn’t allow it anyhow. With his history, management would
probably say it’s about time.
“Wait.
Wait. Wait! Are you trying to tell me you think I’m getting soft?”
Dave stopped dead in his tracks and slapped his big hand across his abs.
Even through his denim shirt you could hear a loud pop at the impact of one
tight solid object hitting another.
“Hey,
come on little guy. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just telling
you what I see, that’s all. Damn, relax dude! You’re not the first guy to
start to slide when he gets out of school.” Button, button, button!
I was playing this kid’s ego like a freaking fiddle.
“I’ll
have you know that I’m every bit as strong and fast as I ever was, and I don’t
need some old man telling me I’m not! Got it?” The kid was pissed!
“What?
What’s that I hear? It sounds like you’re calling me out? Is that
right? You want a piece of me?” The trap was sprung. His next
response would make or break the evening. If the kid said no, it would
look like he was backing down but if he said yes, I’d get what I wanted.
Dave
looked a little confused. He couldn’t figure out what he had said that
made me think he wanted to fight me, but no difference, he was now on the hook.
“Listen. If you want to mix it up, just say so. I’ve never backed
down from a fight in my life and I’m not going to start now.”
“Hell,
kid. It’s not up to me, you’re the one with the big mouth. If you
want to try to back it up, I can have fun with that. Just remember, it’s
your idea and I’m just defending myself. But hey, I understand if you’re
afraid. I mean, you’re giving up a few pounds. Nobody’s going to
think any less of you for backing down. Make it easy on yourself.
Come on, I like you kid. I don’t want to mess up that pretty face of
yours.”
“That’s
it, old man!” Dave shouted in a rage. He had his shirt half off as
he turned and headed behind the building. “You’re going down!”
“Well,
little buddy. Just don’t ever say you weren’t warned!” I said as I pulled
off my t-shirt and followed him back.
Dave
had really let his pride take total control. The kid was in a rage.
His entire being had been called into question, and while he couldn’t quite pin
it down, he was still confused as to how this happened. Either way, Dave was
flexing his rugged young muscles and the adrenalin was pumping like never
before.
We
tossed our shirts in the basic direction of our cars as Dave began pulling off
this baggy t-shirt. As he pulled the shirt off, you could see lines of
muscle as the fabric stretched across his back. As the shirt came off, I
have to admit that there was a lot more man there than I had imagined.
His back was not overly wide but well constructed with thick, well defined
muscle. His lats were solid and tapered down to a firm waist. His
traps and neck had been the only muscles you really noticed, but the rest of
him was solid as well. He had the compact powerful look of a trained
wrestler. Well, at least that part of his story checks out.
The
harsh glare of the overhead mercury vapor lights treated the young stud’s body
well. Every ridge of muscle stood out in high relief across his back as
he wadded up his t-shirt and tossed it in the corner. Dave stopped, turned and
established his space. As he turned, we each got the first chance to size up
our competition.
I
have to admit, I was impressed with the young stud’s body. Yes, he did
have upper arms to match his powerful forearms. His biceps look like they
would stretch the tape a good 17” or so, topped off with delts that were not
huge, but large enough and defined enough to set off the biceps really
well. The rest of him fell in line, a good solid looking chest and lean
well-developed abs. His obloquies were strong and even though his abs
were flat enough to stay tucked inside his hips, his waist had the firm look of
power and toughness. He looked to measure 30 inches or so.
I
knew I looked sharp and, in these lights, probably a little more intimidating
than I do in the gym. I expected a reaction but got none, Dave was busy
finalizing his plan on what he was going to do to me.
His
chest was already pumping oxygen like a locomotive and you could almost see the
adrenalin surge as his muscular body geared up for battle. The kid was
cranked and about to explode. All of that energy had to go
somewhere. I knew there would be no way he could back down now.
“Alright!
Let’s do it!” Dave shouted. Every muscle in his rugged body was
ready for attack. When guys have a body like that, I have never figured
out why they hide it.
“I
told you before. This is your fight; I’m not going to throw the first
punch then end up getting sued for damages. If you want to mix it up,
here’s your favorite target. Have at it! Let’s see what you
got!”. I spread my arms out to my sides and left my prized midsection
undefended as an open invitation.
It
was hard not to notice whenever Dave would make a fist. His hands and
fingers were amazingly thick and strong and when clinched in a fist they became
fierce looking weapons. Backed up with those arms and his rock-solid
body, it looked like he had quite a bit of experience using them. Now,
all that power was about to be unleashed in my direction.
Dave
bobbed and weaved a little to loosen up then moved forward with alarming
grace. Shit, this kid moved well. I knew he had a background in
wrestling, but I was getting the idea it wasn’t limited to that, this guy had
some real fighting experience and I could only imagine the guys he’s messed up
in the past. I’m betting there have been quite a few.
He
barely paused as his muscular body moved within range. A destroyer had
been allowed to move in under the guns of the battleship, just to see how
strong the armor is. The destroyer’s cannons began to fire and the shells
slammed against the hull of the larger ship, exploding on impact.
I
held my position and subtly clinched my teeth intent on masking the damage he
was doing. I could really feel the youngster’s power as his knuckles
smashed into my abdominals. The kid knew how to punch and wasn’t messing
around. Dave had no intention of “play fighting” this time. He had
no interest in testing me, then falling back and regrouping. The kid came
at me full force, not with one or two rounds, but a barrage of bone-crushing
blows up and down my rippling stomach. I flexed harder and harder as the
pain increased. I knew if I let on that he was getting to me, it would
give him all he needed to keep it up and finish the job.
The
stud is in great shape and must work the heavy bag for hours every week.
After a good ten minutes, I couldn’t believe how he was able to still deliver
that much power. I swear the little shit was getting stronger, or maybe
I’m just getting weaker? Can’t let that thought in. Got to hold
on! There is no way I’m going to give him the satisfaction. It was
all I could do to keep from flinching as my abs began to redden from the
impact.
The
mighty youngster’s punches slowed. Was he tiring out? Gawd, I sure
hope so! No such luck. Dave shifted his stance, his powerful
punches are now being fired from knee level. His massive legs pressing up
while his muscular frame twists forward, his arms swell with size and
definition as his handsome body looks more like a work of art just before his
sledge hammer fist explodes, ripping into my badly beaten stomach
muscles. It’s all I can do to withstand the incredible force and ready
myself for the next round.
Yes,
I figured out the rest of those guys were pretty smart not to push this kid,
this could have been a big mistake on my part. How long could I fake this
kid out? Does he know how much he’s hurting me? Can he keep this up
forever? If he’s actually able to break down my abs, what will he do with
me next? Damn, I could be in deep shit!
Dave
had taken me to the edge. I had flexed my prize abs for all they were
worth. His magnificent power punches were wearing me down. I knew I
could only take a few more of those shots before my bricks began to
crumble. The kid was going to take me! But just when it looked the
worst, the muscular stud backed off.
Dave
looked down at both fists and again at my cast-iron abs. I looked down as
well and was shocked at what I found. My entire abdominal area was
covered with red welts and ugly purple and black bruises were already beginning
to form! I have never seen a man pounded like this before.
Shit! I’m going to hurt so much tomorrow!!!
Dave
twisted his massive fists before his face and inspected them with a look of
deep concern. It was as though he couldn’t figure out why I was still
standing. Did those cannons no longer work? He looked again at the
damage he had inflicted on his intended opponent. Yes, indeed!
Those abs do look pulverized. They have taken the most fierce beating his
massive fists have ever dealt out. So, why is this guy still
standing? What the hell is this man made of?
Dave
only took a moment to regroup. He knew that “open season” was over and a
real fight was about to begin. His confidence was shaken, seeing that
someone could actually hold up to his vicious power punches. Dave lunged his
muscular body forward. I had guessed correctly that he would go for the
side headlock, it was obviously his favorite tool.
I
was ready, stepping forward I scooped the young stud in my arms and power
slammed him to the asphalt. The look on his face was one of total shock
and surprise. I don’t think anyone has been able to do that to him in years, if
ever. Without hesitation, I dropped my 225 pounds behind one single knee
to the center of his tight, well muscled abs. The unexpected move
caught him by surprise and I was rewarded by a faint grunt. Enough reward to encourage
three more.
A
look of shock and confusion was still on his handsome face. I don’t think
he’s used to being on the defensive. With that body, I’m thinking that
his real fights are few and far between and always one-sided. This will
be something new for him.
I
prepared for another knee drop, but he’d taken all he wanted of that and rolled
to his feet. Dave shook out his muscles and dove for my legs, a classic
wrestling move. I threw my weight forward to avoid the take-down and
drilled his low back with a double ax handle. This was not the kind of
result he’s used to and gave a bit of a groan. I nailed him again with
enough power to drop the kid to the ground. Quickly I shook his grip from
my legs, spun and pulled his beefy right arm back into an arm-bar hammerlock.
I like this hold since you can deliver a great deal of discomfort and if you’re
real careful, you can crank it pretty tight without breaking your man’s arm.
Dave
was captured on the ground and struggling to get up. That’s not easy with
only one arm and an extra 225 pounds riding your back. “Shit!” Dave
exclaimed as he pounded his fist into the pavement. The kid is left
handed, so I had his ‘weak’ side, if there is such a thing on this muscular
young powerhouse. I really admire how his muscles ripple and strain as he
tries to free himself from my grip. I decide to punish him a little, just
for fun, so I reposition his big arm and slam a knee into his shoulder
blade. I think I detected a hint of scream as he exhaled from the force.
I gotta say, this little shit is tough.
Dave
got lucky and caught me off balance, with explosive force he kicked up with his
powerful legs, twisted that solid frame and tossed me to the side. Again,
showing his power, agility and coordination, the muscle stud was on his feet in
an instant, shaking his right arm to get the feeling back. No big smile,
the kid was serious, deadly serious.
It
was clear that the kid was a vastly superior wrestler in both skill and
experience so it was natural for me to expect him to rely on that
strength. That young body was packed with plenty of solid muscle and
while I had a distinct weight advantage and could no doubt best him in a number
of lifts, all of this kid’s power was developed for ‘go’ rather than ‘show’.
Showing
himself the consummate wrestler, Dave dove for my legs again and once more I
positioned forward and over the top to prevent his take-down, but the kid has
learned what works and what doesn’t. With my long body spread out before
him, Dave ripped an amazingly powerful right hand straight up to my upper
stomach. I was looking for a wrestling move and he caught my abs without a real
protective flex. The wind exploded from my body as the kid’s hammer fist
continued to its mark leaving a trail of destruction in its path.
I
had never been hit so hard in my life! I was stunned, nearly paralyzed
from the power of his punch. My full weight slumped across the muscle
stud’s shoulders leaving me wide open for punches two, three, four, five and
six. Shit! I couldn’t even move out of the way. This young
bruiser had his target fully stretched and exposed before him. The power
of his sledgehammer fists was lifting my 225 pound frame clear off the
ground. Outrageous pain erupted from the explosions that were systematically
destroying my entire midsection. AIR! I gotta get air. I ....
can’t .... breathe! Damn it! The first rule, if you can’t breathe,
you can’t fight. I’ve got to get away, protect myself and get time to
recover or this kid’s gonna tear me apart!
My
legs weren’t moving, but I had to escape before those mighty cannons fired
again. My big arms were just barely working, as I pressed my hands down
on his broad back, Dave did the unthinkable. I had left myself lined up
and vulnerable. We had not set rules and therefore there were none.
Taking clear advantage, the muscle stud fired a powerful right fist, perfectly
targeted between my legs. I was immediately petrified! It felt like
I’d been hit with a machete and sliced open clear to my chest. There was
an explosion deep inside my body and I felt like my insides were pouring out on
the ground. I thought I was dead, but I don’t think death can hurt that
much. I couldn’t move a muscle, but before I could even fall, the first
punch was followed up with a left and another right. My big body ceased
to function. Simultaneously my legs buckled and my upper body collapsed across
his broad back leaving my muscular arms flopping on each side.
The
destroyer had gained the superior position. Its armor piercing shells had
breached the battleship’s hull, ripped through the lower decks and exploded
deep inside the ship leaving the bigger ship’s massive guns without
support. With the battleship’s huge guns silenced, the destroyer could
fire at will, ripping the hull apart and delivering its damage deeper and
deeper within the unprotected frame of the motionless fortress. The
amazing firing power of the smaller, faster ship make it painfully clear how it
earned the name: Destroyer!
Dave
stepped into his mortally wounded prey, swept me up in his powerful arms and
held me for a moment across his chest, then dropped to one knee targeting my
helpless frame across his outstretched thigh. Damn! There is no give to
this man’s muscles at all. My back absorbed the impact as my once powerful
physique draped across the young stud’s knee. I couldn’t believe the
pain. I tried to scream but couldn’t get the air! Panic set in as
the muscle stud effortlessly lifted my battered frame only to smash my back
across his knee again, and again, and again. Completely devastated by the
ferocity of his attack, I was helpless to even resist as my once powerful arms
and legs flopped uncontrollably with each impact. With pure rage pumping
through his veins, the kid wasn’t slowing down as he powered my battered frame
across his knee twice more before lifting me to chest height and power slamming
my broken body to the pavement.
I
was out of it before, but the impact of the body slam left my once muscular
body twitching on the ground as bright lights began flashing before my
eyes. Barely able to focus and nearly delirious with pain, I could
faintly make out the mountain of young muscle standing above me, before Dave
delivered his full weight behind a knee drop deep in the center of my
unprotected stomach. My once proud washboard abs had buckled and been
left paralyzed from the power of his ferocious fists and offered no protection
from this or the three knee drops that followed. My worked-over body
would only shake in short convulsions from the damage the mighty athlete
delivered.
I
had really pushed this kid. I teased the lion, then uncaged him, sure
that I could easily take him, how wrong I was! The young muscleman was unloading
on me like I was still a threat, when in fact I was unable to move under my own
power!
Dave
raised above me and spread his powerful hands as you would to palm a
basketball. You could see every muscle in his upper body flex under his
tight, tan skin as he drove his thick fingers into my stomach wall like ten
steel spikes. Impaled, Dave took me to a new level of pain that I had
never before imagined. As his fingers penetrated deep into my defenseless body,
my head jerked forward in involuntary reaction. I was in total agony as I
watched the thick muscles in his massive forearms knot with power as his
fingers gripped around the two vertical shafts of muscle running up my
stomach. Like an eagle’s talons digging into his prey, Dave’ vice-like grip
encircled the muscle that once defended my brick-wall abs. His massive
hands proved how powerful they were as he crushed my ab muscles like most
people would knead bread, leaving me as soft as dough being worked.
I
couldn’t believe the level of pure physical torture this young muscle stud was
inflicting. I gasped for what little oxygen my beaten body could
absorb. Then in another demonstration of this kid’s incredible power and
muscle control, Dave lifted my 225 pound frame with nothing more than his killer
grip on my abdominal muscles. My defeated body jerked up in uncontrolled
reflex before stretching back, tearing the muscle fibers. My prize abs
were on fire!
Undaunted,
the powerful stud leaped in the air and drove my musclebound fame to the
pavement again, without releasing his death grip on my stomach, the young
powerhouse drove his fists deeper and deeper into my midsection. I could
feel my internal organs rearranging from the force. This kid was killing
me, and after the beating he has administered I would welcome the relief!
But I quickly discovered I would not be so lucky as those massive muscles
flexed again and my helpless body was ripped from the ground by nothing but my
ab muscles, held aloft for what seemed forever, then smashed to the ground with
the thundering force of his 190 pounds behind those solid stone fists powering
nearly to my spine. I tried to move, I couldn’t. I tried to cry
out, to beg, to plead, even to scream, nothing would come out! There was
no way to protect myself from this kid’s amazing power! Bright lights
continued flashing all around me like cameras at a rock concert. My lungs
were on fire, starved for the tiny breaths of life giving oxygen my panicked
gasps were able to provide.
Dave
used his abdominal lift a third time this time showing just how strong his
hands and arms were, the stud held me in the air while he clamped his vice grip
even tighter, crushing every remaining muscle fiber in my destroyed abs.
Every muscle in my bodybuilder physique began to twitch as though they were
subjected to thousands of electrical shocks! The muscles in this kid’s
arms were thick and pumped to amazing size and definition! I don’t know
how anyone could hide that kind of incredible development. He held me in
his death grip for nearly a full minute, but it seemed like twenty, then his
powerful fingers spread apart allowing my broken body to crash back to the
ground.
Dave’
all consuming rage seemed to have been worked out of his system. The
fierce look of a machine bent on my total destruction faded as the young muscle
stud looked down upon me a look of near surprise and almost concern on his
face. If I could have breathed, I would have breathed a sigh of relief
that this vicious battle would now be over and my pain and agony would stop.
The
muscle teen smiled his classic, ‘I’m having fun now’ smile, then leaned above
me and locked in the traditional “most muscular” bodybuilder pose. Shit!
I still can’t believe the muscle on this stud. Dave chuckled, one of the
first sounds he had made since this battle, if you can call it that, began.
In
a blur, the young wrestler spun, grabbed my legs in his steel grip and began
twisting my helpless body over. I was broken, beaten and totally
destroyed. There was no way I could move, let alone resist the kid’s powerful
control over me. Effortlessly, Dave locked in his crab hold. One of
my favorite finishing holds, it certainly wasn’t needed tonight, since I had
been finished long ago. My ab muscles had been completely destroyed and
my back was nearly broken. My entire midsection was coated in colorful welts
and bruises, both front and back.
With
those massive sledge hammer fists and his incredible 17” cannons to power them,
Dave could have taken me out early on with head shots. His superior
wrestling ability and the amazing strength in his rock-solid muscular body
could have been unleashed against my chest, shoulders, arms or legs. He
could have used me as nothing more than his wrestling dummy, executing
destructive hold after hold to tear my massive frame down muscle by
muscle. My bodybuilder physique would have made a perfect target for his
attack, but the kid concentrated his incredible force entirely on my once
picture perfect abdominals and my lean, powerful back. Now he had me
secured in a hold I would not have been able to break if I had been completely
rested! Dave was intent on making it clear that his muscles were in
complete control of this big bodybuilder. My massive, well-muscled body
was failing before his superior power. And fail it did!
With
virtually no resistance at all, the muscle stud worked my back until his hips
were only a few inches from my broad shoulders. I tried to slap the
ground to tap out, but my arms would not respond. I tried to shout or
scream, but my broken down abs could no longer pump even small amounts of air
to my empty lungs! I panicked! Dave had me clearly beaten, but his
muscular back was to me ..... I couldn’t submit! I had no way to signal my
defeat! I can’t stop him and I can’t call him off! Oh, my gawd,
this muscle stud is going to break my back!
My
mouth was forming the words, “I give! I give! I give!
P..L..E..A..S.. E stop! I can’t take any more! I
give. I ...... GIVE!!!!”. I was screaming inside my head, but no
sound would come from my ruined body. The lights were flashing brighter
and brighter. The pain was beyond anything I had ever experienced, in
fact, beyond everything I had ever experienced all rolled into one!
Dave
flexed his massive legs and poured on even more pressure and my muscular body
continued to cave. The kid was now sitting on my shoulders, Damn, even
his ass is rock solid muscle. I don’t think this guy has a weak
point! By now my once solid pecs were being driven into the pavement under
400 pounds of pressure. The small, sharp rocks and glass of the parking
lot were being smashed deeper and deeper into the muscle. I could see my arm
laying still beside me. Shit, it is losing color! My heart must not
be able to pump enough blood to keep it going. This guy is killing me
with a Boston Crab! I didn’t think it was even possible, but his beating
has been so severe my helpless body is shutting down! Wait, the
asphalt is losing color too! It’s not my heart stopping, it’s my lungs!
My stomach muscles have been destroyed; my breathing is paralyzed! The
lights are flashing and spinning around my head. The pain. The
pain! The PAIN!!!!
*
* * * * PROLOG * * * * *
“AAAAAAARRRGH”,
God I hurt. Everything is white. Am I dead? No, I can’t be
dead, dead can’t hurt this much! I can’t move. What happened?
Where am I? Something is binding me. What, what’s going on?
The
fight. Oh yeah, now I remember. I pushed that legendary muscle kid
into a fight so I could put him in his place and show him what a bodybuilder
physique could do. Shit, that little stud really hurt me bad. But what’s
this, what has he done to me? My eyes began to open and I’m looking into
a beautiful blond face. Well, this sure as hell isn’t Dave! I must
be in heaven.
“Relax”
the pretty voice said, “You’re going to be all right. You’ve had a
terrible accident.”
What?
A terrible accident my ass! My accident was not believing what the guys
told me about that muscle-bound stud wrestler. I know now why they’re all
in fear of that kid. Maybe if I was smarter, I would have given him a lot
more space. Damn, I told him to learn a lot more about a man before
pushing him around, I should practice taking my own advice!
“Accident?
What accident?” I asked the pretty angel.
“You
were brought in here last night by a handsome young man. He was unusually
strong for a young guy, carrying you in his arms like you would a little baby.”
Oh,
great. That makes me feel a LOT better!
“He
said you had been out jogging and got hit by a truck. The driver never
saw you, so he didn’t stop. You were knocked unconscious so your friend brought
you here. Lucky, he did, too! Fortunately, you didn’t hit your
head, you received most of the impact on your body, but you could hardly
breathe. He got you here just in time. You’re one lucky man!”
Yeah,
I thought, what a lucky guy! I opened up my big mouth and pushed this
young stud so hard he ended up damn near killing me. I let my ego
convince me that my big muscular physique was going to provide me with more
than enough power to take on this little muscleman and all the rest of the buff
young athletes at the warehouse. Last night proved me wrong in a most
painful and dangerous way.
I
returned to work about a week later. I could walk upright, but had not
been able to get back to the gym. I worked at stretching and a lot of
rehab. The bruises were beginning to fade, but the memories stayed
painfully sharp and clear, every time I tried to move!
As
I entered, a few of the guys waved and welcomed me back. Across the
warehouse, Dave looked up and flashed his broad ear-to-ear smile. “Hey
bud, welcome back!” he shouted. “Hope you had a nice vacation. We
missed you!”
Yeah.
What a friendly son-of-a-bitch. The asshole had beaten me without mercy
and put my sorry ass in the hospital for a week! He MISSED me?
Shit, he sure didn’t miss me with his fists of stone! The muscle stud
didn’t miss a single punch, he made sure everyone counted. After a full
week, I feel like my ab muscles may NEVER heal!
With
that giant grin, Dave walked across the warehouse to greet me. None of
the guys seemed to be aware of what had gone on between us or would notice
anything out of the ordinary today, but a bolt of fear shot up my spine as he
approached. To them it looked like a couple of buddies passing the time
of day as Dave gripped my right biceps, his powerful fingers digging into the
muscle, easily crushing my upper arm. My entire body went weak with total
recall of every agonizing minute of the torturous beating he had
inflicted. Unseen by the others, Dave placed his powerful right fist
against my stomach wall and gently began to increase the pressure. Still
badly damaged, instinctively I flexed to resist his might and the pain in doing
so nearly crippled me.
Dave
began to laugh, to the others it looked like I had shared a big joke, of
course, to him it was! The young muscle stud pressed tighter and tighter
forcing his massive stone fist into my weakened body. Just as before, I
was helpless to stop him. He smiled and playfully said, “I’m really glad
to see you come back. I thought after our fun the other night that you
might be afraid to face me again. I want to thank you. Not many
guys will stand up to me and even fewer will let me get a little exercise
breaking them down. I really enjoyed myself, we’ll do that again sometime .....
when your big buff muscle body is ready for it.”
It
felt like Dave had inserted his gigantic fist damn near to my heart when he
began to twist it around, ripping at my broken-down brick-wall abs. My
mouth dropped open as I gasped for air. Pain radiated throughout my
body. Dave was in complete control and we both knew it. I was
bigger. I looked stronger, but this mighty powerhouse of hidden muscle
could tear me apart at will.
It
didn’t seem unusual to the rest of the gang that Dave’ physical intimidation
would continue and no one seemed to notice that from that day forward, I would
be included as one of his subjects.
For
a long time he had left me alone, a little intimidated himself by my bearing,
my size, my muscles, but that was over now. Dave still took it easy on
the other guys but saved the rough stuff for me. They probably figured
that as a big stud bodybuilder, I could take a lot more punishment than they
could, so it was no big deal when Dave slapped on a side headlock, on me he’d
really crank. When he delivered his playful little punches, on my body
he’d really deliver. I guess they figured he was just playing around and
I was so tough I didn’t mind.
How
wrong they were. How terribly wrong they were.
Awesome! Definitely one of my favorites from Gym Dude! Thank you for uploading!
ReplyDeleteYou are welcome. I fixed the formatting. The other 7 chapters will be published over the next week as well. Enjoy
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