Warehouse Punk I

Warehouse Punk
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.