Workout In The Park

 

 

WORKOUT IN THE PARK

by Gym Dude

It’s a great day in the park, warm enough to work up a good sweat, yet cool enough that you really enjoy a good long workout. My name’s Chad. I’m 22 and a senior at state college. I’ve always been athletic and love working to stay in shape. It’s a great release for me from the grind of heavy class work and quite frankly I dig the effect my body has on the chicks. I stand 6’1” and weigh in with 198 lean and solid pounds.

In high school I always did well in football, baseball and wrestling but I was lucky to score an academic scholarship and the “team thing” just takes too much time. My roomies are both on teams so I end up working out with the football players and wrestlers. They have to lift for conditioning, but I can concentrate on bodybuilding. That really helps me stay in top condition. I’m both proud of and respected for my handsome physique. I’m still competitive and play on the weekends when I can get a game up. The rest of the time I lift weights and run.

Today it’s a nice long run in the park in my running shorts and a tank. It’s not unusual for kids to notice my buff build and ask questions about working out and lifting weights and I’m always happy to help them any way I can, so I’m not surprised when a youngster approaches and opens a conversation.

He introduces himself as Matt and says he’s a senior in high school, that would make him about 18. Matt has close cropped black hair and deep tan and is wearing levis and a loose t-shirt so I couldn’t if he’s working out hard or not. The kid confirms his age and adds that he is 5’7” and 168 pounds and interested in packing on a lot more solid weight. I talk to him about body types and how different guys grow at different rates and that his growth could still be in front of him, he just needs some patience. I give the kid some pointers to help along the way.

I’m most impressed about the kid’s confident walk and the way he holds himself. The little guy seems to know what he wants. As we talk, I’m fascinated how this guy acts just like a miniature adult. He is firm in his convictions and not afraid to share them. Using his verbal skills and body language, Matt assumes control of the conversation. The kid’s act and demeanor soon become a little unsettling and it starts to appear that the kid is actually controlling me, or at least expects to.

We talk about working out, mostly my workouts, then Matt casually says, “You’re into running. Run over there and grab me a Coke.” As a psych major I am fascinated by the phrasing and choice of words. The kid isn’t asking me, he’s telling me. He left the impression he expects me to do exactly as I am told.

The kid isn’t threatening or rude, it just comes off as something two friends might say to one another, but we aren’t old friends and, in my eyes, we are certainly not on the same level. Matt just EXPECTS me to do his bidding. In fact, at no time did Matt ever act like he was talking to a bigger and older guy. The way the conversation was going, you would have thought it was the other way around. The only reason I’m spending any time at all with the little guy is that I appreciate and actually admire, the way the kid handles himself.

It isn’t that the kid is domineering, although he is, it’s the way he does it. You actually enjoy watching him do it. Like those tiny tikes that play concert piano, it’s cute coming from a little kid. But the Coke thing is going too far and I decide it’s no longer cute and time to put an end to it.

“Listen you little shit.” I got his attention, “That’s no way for a kid to talk to an adult. You need to learn some manners.” To make my point I glare down at the kid and flex my ample biceps and pecs just for show. I want the little guy to know he’s in way over his head and it’s time to show some respect to a bigger guy.

Matt isn’t even phased and certainly doesn’t react the way I expect. Matt doesn’t look upset or show any signs of regret. The kid just appears disappointed in me, as he speaks with the very same tone and conviction as before, “I want a Coke. You’re a runner. Run over and get me one. You got a problem doing that?”

Now, I’ve got four years of growth, 30 pounds and more than half a foot on this kid, but I am just as amazed at the kid’s confidence as I am with the little turd’s audacity to even think that I will do what he wants. “Listen. I’m a college man and you’re just some little high school kid. What makes you think you can tell me what to do?”

The kid’s expression doesn’t change, in fact I hardly notice the kid move as he simply replies “This!” and fires a powerful right fist making solid contact with my crotch. My body explodes in outrageous pain and I don’t even have a chance to react before Matt drills five more punches, with every bit of power as the first one, directly on target. All I can feel is an incredible hollowness as the pain slowly radiates out from the center of my being. My entire body drains of strength from the totally unexpected power and ferocity of the kid’s attack.

Here I am a big college muscle-boy dropping to my knees by a kid! Matt just steps over my head and locks his legs in a scissors around my neck. The kid makes a slight jump then drops with all his weight driving my face into the dirt and immediately begins a series of double ax-handle blows to my back and shoulders.

Holy smoke! What hit me? I’m trying to get some air and all my damaged body can do is manage short gasps as my mouth and nose fills with gritty dirt. By instinct I pull my arms up to stop the damage to my back only to have Matt grip my wrists and pull both arms into hammerlock position. Damn, that hurts!

Everything is happening so fast I can’t figure out what’s going on. All I know is that one second, I’m talking with this kid and less than ten seconds later I’m pinned face-first in the dirt with my entire upper body in outrageous pain!

I can feel my arms being pulled tighter and tighter behind my back and there’s nothing I can do to prevent it! The pain is escalating in my shoulders yet I can only groan in response. The kid seems to like that, “In answer to your question, big man. This is what makes me think I can tell you what I want done. And this is what makes me think you’re going to do what you’re told.”

He sounds so matter-of-fact. I have to admit it, the kid has me. I just can’t figure it out! I’m under the total control of this little kid! Matt occasionally crushes my neck with his legs, then forces my weakening arms further up my back, always gaining another groan or scream for his efforts.

I have no idea how to escape from my attacker. I can hardly breathe, not much of my body is working and there is no way for me to counter ANY of the moves Matt has used so effectively on me.

“What’s going on here?” I hear a booming voice. It’s an adult, male. With my face buried in the dirt, I can’t see the source of the big voice. I choose to think of him as my savior.

Matt is quick to reply, “This muscle-head was giving me shit.”

“Is that true?” The big voice asks.

Before I can say a word, Matt’s strong legs crush down securely and my arms are wrenched even further up my back. Matt speaks calmly and clearly, “If you enjoy using those big arms of yours, you’ll chose your answer very carefully.” Matt left no doubt about what he wanted, but then my guess is that he seldom does.

“Yeah”, I lie. “I guess so.”

“Then, it looks like you’re getting what you deserve.” The big voice says. So much for being my savior! This guy is going to let this go on? How is that possible, I wonder?

Matt just tightens his grip a time or two. Unable to see my opponent, I’ve forgotten that this is just some little kid. All I know was that I’m in deep pain and I can’t make it stop!

“OK son”, The big voice goes on. “This guys had all he can take. Let the dude up.”

Without a word of complaint, Matt instantly releases my arms and neck from his torture holds and pushes me on my ass. By the time I get my eyes open, I can see the kid standing before me, his feet firmly planted shoulder width. All 5’7” and 168 pounds of him. He looks like he’s ready for me to pull something, but should know there isn’t much I can do now.

I look over to see a big man, bigger than me, who looks to be in pretty great shape. He’s wearing warm-ups and a t-shirt. Neither do much to hide the fact that the big voice is coming from a very well put-together man. Then I also notice the man is holding a cam-corder. My humiliation is all on tape!

“Remember son, you always give a man the chance to back down. There is no reason to wipe a guy out if you don’t need to. He may be able to serve you.”

“Get up”, was all Matt says in his calm, controlling tone. It’s all I can do to struggle to my knees. I’m far too wobbly from the working over to make it to my feet.

The big voice speaks again, “I think an apology is in order.” And things get quiet.

It may be pretty stupid on my part, but I assume he means that Matt owes me an apology and I’m waiting for it. Apparently, I’m the only one who thinks that.

“Alright boy, while I run the camera, take off that shirt and show this muscle-punk what he’s up against. Besides, your mom will have a cow if you get somebody’s blood on your new shirt.” Matt’s dad remarks. I’m getting the feeling this isn’t over.

The kid pulls off his t-shirt and I am staggered by the amazing physique on this young kid. I’ve never seen a high school kid with remotely as much muscle, let alone someone weighing in at only 168 pounds. This guy is ripped! There’s not an ounce of fat on him, and he’s only 18! This kid’s got abs like corrugated steel and I swear the little stud’s arms must be 16 ½ or 17 inches! His guns must be nearly as big as mine, but on his little body, it makes him look like a miniature Mr. America! Matt pops a few poses for the camera while I try to pull myself together.

“Good enough, son. You’re coming along great. Let me get some before shots of muscle-boy here.” Matt leans forward and rips my tank top from my body like he’s done it a thousand times before.

Now let me get a few shots of you teaching your college muscle-boy some manners.”

Matt looks down at me with a slight smile and moves with all the confidence and balance of a fighter nearly twice his age. I ‘m holding my busted crotch and still unable to make it to my feet. The kid spins around in place and nails me up-side the head with a perfectly executed roundhouse kick. The little fart is so fast, I never saw it coming. I was nearly unconscious before I even hit the ground. The blood from my mouth and nose, cake with dirt as my face smashes into the ground again. I try to pull my arms up but the kid is on me before I have the chance. Matt wrenches both arms behind my back then twists them around into the most agonizing surfboard I’ve ever seen. The kid’s grip is crushing my wrists and tearing at my shoulders. I let out a half-groan / half-scream as the youngster locks on his hold then begins drilling my back with knee drops. The kid’s knee is destroying my back while my helpless body jerks with each terrible impact.

“Now muscle-boy, tell me who is strongest!”, the kid commands just as calm and collected as he started out. My head is still swimming from the events of the past few minutes. This has to be some kind of a bad dream. A little 168-pound high school dude is not going to be able to take down a buff 200-pound college man! It just can’t happen! But somehow, I’m in excruciating pain, face down in the dirt, beaten to shit, twice!!! “You are. You are strongest!” I hear myself stammer.

“You bet your ass, Twink! Tell me who’s the real man.” As he cranks up more pressure on my arms.

“AAAAARGH! You are. You’re the real man.” I mumble painfully.

“Don’t you ever forget it! Do you feel like getting my Coke now? And will you follow my instructions without question from now on?” he asks as though I had any choice in the matter.

My brain is in such a fog, it sounds like someone else talking … “Yes. Yes. Whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me go. Please, man. Let me go.” I’m hearing someone begging. Can this be ME????

“Now, now, son. You’ve got the college boy anchored so he can’t fight back. You know that isn’t fair. I always taught you to let your man have a chance. It’s a lot more fun that way”, the big voice says.

Matt releases my arms and I drop to the dirt. “All right, big man. Get up and face me.”

The kid has to help me to my feet. I stagger around, but am able to stay upright, or close to it. As I get my bearings, I get a good look at this kid. The muscles on this boy are truly amazing, he looks like his body is carved from solid granite. How could someone get in this kind of shape at only 18?

You like what you see, big muscle boy? Don’t you wish you could look this good? The kid flexes for me and I have to admit that while I have a great build, this kid is really ripped.

“Go ahead, give ‘em a try!” The kid exclaims. I must look a little confused, so he continues, “The abs man! I know you want to, everybody does. Go ahead, rip in your best shots. Be my guest. Don’t be afraid, use full power, you’re not going to hurt me anyhow.”

The little shit has worked my arms over pretty good by now and I don’t know how much power I’ll have left. I have no idea if I’m going to be able to deliver any real damage, but I have to give it a try. I don’t think he’s going to let me go if I don’t.

My arm muscles are pumped and tight from the heavy flexing and lack of motion from the past many minutes. I feel the agony of tearing muscle as I power my best shots up and down super boy’s washboard abdominals. Nothing happens.

Matt’s dad just laughs at my puny efforts, “I don’t think this big stud knows how to punch. Matt, show him how it’s done.”

Matt’s dad gets in position with his video camera, while Matt does some flexing and shadow boxing for the lens, I’m overwhelmed by this little dude’s body control. I don’t have time to enjoy the show before Matt turns to face me and fires his first right hand into my lower abs.

Shit! That hurts! I had all the time in the world to steel my stomach muscles up to full flex. I mean, I know this is just a kid, and I expect the little muscle boy to have a good punch, but this guy can really hit! In a heartbeat, Matt delivers a half-dozen punches with such power and authority that my abs are buckling already! Every one of the kid’s power shots is planted deeply into my lower two bricks, just above the beltline.

“Come on, show me how a big college muscleman holds up to a little 18-year-old kid!” the dad cheers me on as he positions the camera to get a close-up of his boy’s brutal punches. Each shot forces a grunt from his target.

My big body is unable to stand the power of Matt’s fists and as I double over his brutal punches slam into my pec muscles.

I feel so ashamed allowing some little boy to pound me into pulp, but I can’t fight back. My arms have been rendered useless and the more I flex in defense the harder the kid hits me. And the pain! How can a little guy hit this hard? This kid is tearing me apart brick by brick and his dad is getting it all on tape!

A sharp left hook straightens me up for even greater abuse of my prize abdominals. Unable to resist any longer, I feel the big college muscle-boy dropping to his knees after a few convincing punches to my solar plexus.

Struggling for every bit of life-giving oxygen, I am faintly aware of my legs being maneuvered into some kind of hold. Then I become painfully aware as my legs are locked firmly, then with his knee planted in my lower back, I am pulled into Matt’s full nelson. My battered abs stretch out painfully as the kid forces his knee forward until I think he’s ready to break my back! I’m in total agony and incapable of offering any resistance to my youthful opponent.

“Now let’s see how these big college muscles hold up to kid power”, Matt addresses the camera, but the message was for me. I struggle and flex with all my might, but the kid has me locked up solid!

Like a true technician, very slowly Matt begins to flex his mighty guns. This guy’s arms are amazing, but on his tiny body, they look monstrous! Even after everything I’ve discovered about the little guy’s power, I’m astounded that he can put so much force into this hold. I still don’t understand how a little shit of only 18 is able to totally dominate a well-trained college man with a 30-pound weight advantage. This can’t be happening!

Matt continues to flex and my buff physique continues to stretch and strain. The kid is controlling my arms and legs while my back is being pulled tighter and tighter across his knee. I’m helpless and begin begging like a baby for an end to the punishment.

“What do you think, dad? Three straight falls by submission. This big heavyweight college muscleman can’t even begin to compete against my power!” Matt spoke primarily for the camera, but his words were not lost on his beaten foe.

“I gotta tell you, kid. You really got it. This big stud folded up like a limp paper bag, just like all the others. All that buff muscle sure doesn’t help him much against a rugged little titan like you.” Matt’s dad seems impressed.

“AAAAARGH!” The kid muscles up again and I begin to scream. “Help! Get him off me! Help, man. He’s tearing me apart. Please! Please! Make him stop!”

“O.K. son. You’ve made your point.” It began to look like my pain was about to end. “Put big muscle-boy out of his misery.”

I don’t like the sound of that. I feel the kid’s iron muscles begin to flex. Matt’s full nelson tightens around my shoulders as he begins to crush my upper body. The powerful kid forces his knee forward and it feels like my battered stomach muscles are being torn from my ribcage! I have never felt so much pain in my life! The lean little muscle-boy flexes one more time and the lights go out for the big college muscleman!

I awake to find myself behind the bushes. Apparently, Matt has been trained to put away his toys. My body barely works and it takes me nearly half-an-hour just to work my way over to a park bench to loosen up. A quick inventory reveals no broken bones, as my mind races over the events of the day. I can’t bear the embarrassment and humiliation of anyone knowing that some kid had worked me over and this big muscle-stud could do nothing to stop him.

By the time I got home I had a story all worked up about getting jumped and worked over in the woods by three guys. They took turns holding me while each one worked me over. I didn’t recognize them, so I suspect they thought I was someone else. I hoped I never saw them again.

Well, at least the last part was true.

My roommates seem to buy the story about getting jumped and worked over by three guys in the park. They can see I had been in a fight and with my size and muscle it made sense that most guys wouldn’t face me one-on-one. Both my buddies wanted to head out to the park and hunt these guys down and neither one of them liked it when I talked them out of it. That’s all I’d need, knowing that three innocent guys got beat up for nothing.

I got a good night’s rest and am spending the morning on the couch. Moving around just doesn’t seem like something I want to do right now.

Damn it! Someone’s at the door and the guys are in the kitchen. I know it’s just some salesman, but I struggle up to get it anyhow. I’m shocked at the sight. There on my door step stands the kid from the park, in a pair of running shorts and a snug fitting tank top. Damn, the little shit looks great! He sees the look on my face, smiles and pops a double-biceps pose that makes it look like he’s been in the gym all morning just pumping up those big guns, not that he ever needed to. With virtually no body fat, the tank top does nothing to hide the incredibly deep cuts in this boy’s wall-of-muscle abs.

“What do YOU want?” I ask.

“On your knees.” Is his calm reply.

“What?”, I am stunned to see him and more stunned at his demand.

“On your knees when you address your master.” He said, more like an instruction than a demand.

“Just go away and leave me alone, you little shit.” I desperately want no more contact with this little bully.

Matt is not ready to leave, “Nobody talks to me that way, especially you, your weak muscle-wimp. You’ve got good size and maybe a little bit of strength, but we already know who the real man is. You know damn well that I can kick your buff butt any time and any place.”

I had enough of the kid, “Fuck off, you little ass-hole. Cheap shots. The only way you took me down is with cheap shots. There is no way you can match a man in a real fight.”

What the hell am I thinking? I’m not nearly rested enough to back up that kind of talk, but I’m on my home ground and my buddies are in the next room. I’m not going to take any more grief from this cocky kid.

“Have it your way, wimp. I tried to be nice.” Matt casually says as he brings his arms down then without warning buries a front kick deep into my gut. Instantly, I cave in from the unexpected shot, only to take a knee lift to the face breaking my nose and starting the blood flowing again. I fly into the house flat on my back and the kid has me by one leg before I know what’s happened.

Once again, Matt demonstrates his incredible strength and control by yanking my leg up, wrestling me over face down on the floor, and powering back on a single leg lock until I scream for mercy. It didn’t take him long.

Just then Mike comes out from the kitchen. Dressed as usual just in gym shorts, Mike is an impressive sight. “What the hell is going on in here?” he exclaims! Mike is one of the football players I work out with. As a junior half-back, he is big, strong and tough. Surly he’ll save me from another beating at this kid’s capable hands. All Mike sees is me pounding the floor with my fists in agony and Matt cranking down like a mad man. I can’t kick him off. Shit, I can’t even move. The kid is hurting me, bad!

Mike turns toward the kitchen, “Hey Dean, get in here fast, muscleman Chad is getting the shit beat out of him by some little kid.” Dean drops what he’s doing and rushes into the room. Dean is one strong stud himself, wrestling varsity at 186 pounds. Dean’s developed an ultra-lean wrestler’s body, which he proudly shows off whenever he can wear only square-cut wrestling trunks.

“WOW!” Dean is shocked, “That little dude is really going to town. Damn! Chad, it looks like that little boy is really hurting you!”

Damn it, he is! The little son-of-a-bitch is tearing my leg off. Now pull the bastard off me!” I command.

“Yeah. That’s real fair. Three big college jocks beating up on some little kid. I don’t think so. You’re the big muscleman, take care of your own battles. Why don’t you just get up and kick the kid’s ass? Come on. show us what you’re made of, muscleman!” Both my roommates love a good fight. I think they like watching one as much as participating themselves.

The little muscle-kid is capitalizing on the damage he inflicted on me yesterday. Once again, I’m anchored helplessly to the ground, unable to shake the little shit off. My buddies just pop open a Coke and pull up a chair to enjoy the fight.

Expecting to find me alone, Matt is a little surprised at my buddies, especially their size and obvious conditioning, but the kid is really getting off on their attitude. Matt loves an audience and this is just one more opportunity to demonstrate his fighting ability. It’s one thing for them not to help me, but as he works me over, these guys actually start cheering for HIM!

After working my legs until tears start streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks, the kid delivers a paralyzing elbow drop to the spine, right between my shoulder blades. The move not only knocks the wind out of me, the little stud’s blow leaves my lower body with nearly no feeling. I am motionless as my attacker grips my powerful right arm in an agonizing arm bar, weakening me further before cranking on his painful hammerlock. A few well-placed knee drops and my big guns are out of this fight for good.

I began to swear at my bastard friends for letting this go on, but Mike and Dean are having too much fun with the show to stop things now. I am left with no options, and once again begin to beg the little muscle-boy to let me go. This time, Matt hears none of it, “I’m having too much fun here, big guy. If you want me to stop, you’re going to have to get some balls and make me!” The cards are on the table. Matt is getting his jollies working me over, and my buddies are getting off watching the miss-matched squash job taking place.

As though he needs any prompting, Matt really enjoys showing off, and his very well-muscled audience just gives him more incentive to perform. By now, my arms and legs are useless. My body aches from head to toe as the tiny titan demonstrates his submission wrestling skills for my buddies. The kid is explaining each move and why he applies it the way he does, then he starts slowly flexing his young muscles until I scream my submission. Hold after hold, this mighty titan tears me apart while my workout buddies cheer him on!!!! “Check it out, Dean!” Mike shouts, “This kid’s whole body is a weapon!”

I’m exhausted and my throat is raw from useless screams. I’m helpless to resist this kid’s power. I can’t believe the ease with which he pulls me to my feet.

“God, dude. For a man with this much muscle, you don’t fight worth shit!” Matt laughs as he manhandles me back into the wall. “Watch and learn, guys” he instructs my buddies, “Watch and learn!”

I’m never prepared for anything this kid does to me. In either fight, the muscle-kid is in total control and all I can do is suffer. That seems to work out great for him and now for his muscular audience. Matt secures a solid grip with both hands behind my back and my head is swimming for counter moves.

What will he try? A bear hug? Has he got the muscle to put me away with a bear hug? Yeah, from what he’s shown the past few days, he’s got that much muscle and a lot more. Is he going to throw me? Shit, with his body control, this kid is able to lay me out any way he wants. I brace with all I have left, but it’s not enough.

My tormentor bends slightly at the waist and I get ready for a suplex, but no, the little shit screws me up again! As I try to move against him, Matt drives his head into my midsection then cranks up with those mighty guns of his. I can’t believe the muscle definition in those arms! Flex after powerful flex, Matt drives his head deeper and deeper into my battered gut. I try to force his head down to relieve the incredible pressure but my weakened arms are useless against his power.

My mouth and eyes are open wide with both shock and pain as the muscle-kid flexes again and I feel my ab muscles buckle and fail as the little titan drives his head toward my spine.

“Absolutely in-fucking-credible” Mike shouts. “Catch that Dean! This kid is crushing Chad’s washboard gut like it’s nothing. The big bodybuilder can’t even breathe! Look man, his lips are turning blue! How fucking cool is that! Damn, kid! You’re GOOD!”

I hurt too much to be pissed at Mike. I’ve got to get air. Shit! I can’t breathe! Damn it! I can’t even get enough air to beg this guy to let me go! AAAARGH, it hurts! I feel myself draping over the solid body of the young stud holding me. Matt backs up a few steps then amazes even me with his power as he lifts me off the ground then drives me like a torpedo-tackle into the wall.

The kid finally releases me and I fall in a helpless mass at his feet. I painfully gasp for every tiny bit of oxygen my battered body will allow, as I groan and writhe on the floor.

Even though I’m unable to say or do anything about it, I am painfully aware of what’s going on around me. Mike and Dean are amazed at the muscle-kid’s strength and skill and want to see more. After a little prompting, Matt pulls off his tank top and gives the guys a pose down.

Both of my buddies want to see just how strong the kid is, then Dean offers to arm wrestle him. I’m in agony on the floor, unable to warn Dean who doesn’t suspect how much power he is facing. The two line up across the table and it takes some adjusting since Matt’s arm is so much shorter. Finally, Mike gives the signal and the kid explodes with power. Unsuspecting the kid’s strength, Dean’s arm drops half way before he can stop the momentum. The muscular wrestler has to struggle to get back up. For every inch Dean gains the kid is able to regroup and power the big stud back some. Finally, with his massive muscles at full force the college wrestler is able to gradually wear the kid down and finally pin his arm, but the kid fights with everything he has all the way to the table top gaining a great deal of respect from the wrestler. Both of the big musclemen are amazed!

While I try to recover, the guys talk to Matt about his training and wrestling skill and are amazed that a kid can know that much about submission style fighting. Matt talks about his dad’s background in the sport and tells them he started lifting and fighting before he can even remember.

Mike is especially impressed at the kid’s skill level and they start talking about favorite holds. Mike and Dean favor the power moves such as body scissors and full-nelsons but the kid says those holds can be broken by a good fighter, he likes one he made up that he calls his “stomach claw nerve hold”. Matt brags that no one has ever escaped it, even his dad who is really solid and tough. Naturally, the guys have never heard of a hold like this and want to know more. Surely any hold can be broken if a man is strong enough. One thing leads to another and the guys insist on a demonstration. Since his wrestling dummy is still in agony on the floor, Mike volunteers to take my place. You’re more than welcome, I thought to myself.

Big Mike stands up and flexes a few times and Matt steps before him and with authority, pushing the big athlete back against the wall. “You ready for this?” he asks the mountain of muscle before him. Mike is tough and confident that the little dude is not going to be able to hurt him. The little guy smiles at the powerful hunk towering above him, as his right arm begins to flex with muscles that resemble thick steel cables.

Mike is caught for a moment by the incredible look of strength and confidence on the kid’s face. Most guys, even college guys would cower standing next to this much muscle, but not this little guy. The kid plants his left hand solidly on Mike’s thick chest and presses the big man back against the wall. Mike goes along with the game and gives a chuckle at the little guy’s game of dominance.

The massive football stud glances across to catch Dean’s expression. Dean is watching like a kid in school, waiting to see what kind of move the kid will try on such a big opponent. What hold can possibly bring down a big man like Mike? The massive stud’s first mistake is taking his eyes off the kid.

The mighty football hero is proud of his worked-out abdominals. They not only look great, but have been demonstrated time and time again to be amazingly tough and hard. Mike’s abs are known around campus as an unbreakable wall of steel, and he knows that no matter what this kid does, he’s not going to make a dent in these bricks.

And the kid doesn’t. The first time Mike knows something is wrong is a change of expression on Dean’s face from fascination to concern. The kid’s fist has been turned palm up to resemble the blade of a sword. Before Mike knows what’s happened, his attention turns to an incredible pain deep inside his body. The kid unleashes his best weapon, his right hand is flexed and forged like a knife blade, fired at full force above Mike’s thick wall of rugged stomach muscle, just below the ribcage.

Matt avoids the big man’s strongest feature and attacks just above his washboard abs. There wouldn’t be room for a fist, any man’s punch would just bounce off that muscled wall, but Matt knows there is room for the edge of a hand, if that hand is strong enough.

Big Mike feels like he’s been speared and, in a way, he’s right, but the big athlete is in for much more.

Mike’s handsome face takes on a look of shock and agony, but the kid just smiles up at the mountain of muscle before him. Deep inside Mike’s helpless physique, Matt’s powerful fingers grip behind the nerve bundle known as the Solar Plexus. With his thumb firmly planted between the big stud’s beef-steak pecs, Matt’s amazing little forearm flexes to incredible size and definition as he closes his powerful fist, crushing Mike’s Solar Plexus against the inside of his chest.

The big handsome stud’s mouth falls open as he tries to breathe, but can’t. Every muscle in the big man’s body flexes to amazing size all at once, then begin to convulse as if the muscular football hero is being electrocuted. Mike can’t move! The mighty athlete is paralyzed and defenseless against the agonizing power of the kid’s grip!

“AAACK! AAAACH! AACK!” are the only sounds the muscle stud can make.

“I can hold him here as long as I want and your giant, muscle-bound friend here is helpless to stop me. If I use my head in a fight and set my man up correctly, there isn’t a man alive that I can’t drop with this hold.” Matt calmly comments to a stunned Dean.

Unbelievable! A little high school kid has just rendered two very well-muscled college men totally helpless in a matter of minutes. This is incredible!

“Now watch this.” Matt says. Big Mike’s muscular body is shaking violently against the wall, held masterfully in place by this little muscle-boy, controlling his every move.

“Get ready to say good night, muscleman.”, the kid warns. Matt smiles up into Mike’s pleading eyes. The big man is helpless to beg or plead, he just wants the outrageous pain to stop. He wants AIR! You can see the muscles in Matt’s thick little arm begin to flex again, then with one powerful grip, the kid crushes his fist closed. Mike’s jaw drops to his massive chest, his eyes bug nearly out of his head, then roll back. The big muscleman is out cold! Matt releases his terrible grip and lets the big football hero collapse in a heap of muscle at his feet.

Dean is dumbfounded. “SHIT!” is all he can say. “No one has ever taken that big stud down before, let alone knock him out, and you took him with one hand. SHIT!”

“Well, he did stand there and let me get started. Normally, I have to work a man for a while before he’s ready. Let’s face it, with the power in those muscles, I’d have my work cut out for me in a fair fight.”

Dean is amazed at the kid’s confidence. To even think about fighting a man like Mike, let alone that he’s already sized the big man up as a target. The kid isn’t arrogant, he just plans things out. He’s little more than half the size of the muscleman at his feet, yet he feels he has a chance to take him in a fair fight! Shit, I’d like to see that! Dean thought to himself.

I am barely able to make it to my hands and knees when Matt reaches down and starts slapping Mike to bring him around. What a picture! This miniature Mr. America standing over an unconscious muscle-bound powerhouse and back-handing the brute to wake him up. Who ever thought any man would be able to stand there and deliver shot after shot at this big handsome stud?

Mike finally starts to come around. “AAAAARGH! Damn, I hurt! What the hell? What happened to me?” the big man is in wonder.

“Don’t you remember?” Dean laughs, “You wanted to see this little kid’s favorite hold. Unfortunately, you only saw part of it, but I would say it’s pretty fucking amazing!”

Matt reaches down and helps the fallen hero to his feet, then big Mike staggers across the room and collapses in a chair with his Coke. Both men were incredibly impressed with the young muscle-boy. “Damn, Dean. Can you imagine with this kid’s body and skill at just 18, how great he can be when he’s our age and has had a chance to grow?” Mike thought out loud. “Shit, boy! You’re already strong enough and tough enough to compete at varsity college level with guys your own weight class.” Mike said as he tries to rub the agony from his chest and stomach, “And maybe a bunch of guys bigger!” They all laugh.

“I’ll tell you what. Any time you want, I’ll train with you lifting at the college gym and Dean will work with you wrestling. Of course, you’re welcome to come over here any time you want to beat up Chad.” Oh, great. Like he needed to throw that in. Like I’m not humiliated enough!

Mike was full of questions, “So what happened? What brought you to pounding the crap out of our muscle-bound buddy here?”

“Oh that.” Matt responded. “We had a little unfinished business after our meeting in the park yesterday.”

All of a sudden, Dean gets this real pissed-off look, not a look you like to see on an iron-bodied stud like him. “Wait a minute. Don’t tell me you were one of the three guys who beat him up in the park!”

Matt busts up laughing, “THREE guys! Did he tell you there were three guys? Shit! I took your big buddy down for three straight falls all by myself. At his best, that big stud is no match for me. Damn, guys! You should know that by now!” Matt began flexing his mighty little frame, “Look at this, dudes. Do I really look like I need ANYBODY’S help in a fight?” The little stud knocked out a “most muscular” pose that just about stunned the two beefy athletes before him.

“Not that I need any more proof, but I just dropped by with a copy of the tape for your big buddies’ files.” THE TAPE! I’m mortified, like a school kid caught in a lie.

Matt pulls a tape out of his back pocket, “Here, see for yourself.” Matt puts the tape in a player as I struggle forward in a wasted effort to stop him, not that I could. Matt effortlessly drops me to the deck and easily secures me in position with a camel clutch pointed at the TV. I’m not just embarrassed, but held in total agony while I’m forced to watch my total destruction and humiliation again.

“Yeah.” The kid remarks, “He wishes it was three guys. They probably would have gone easier on him than I did.” All the guys have a great laugh, then Matt flexes his powerful young arms again. I let out a long agonizing groan, then my muscular body relaxes. I’m out cold again.

I see Matt fairly often, now that he’s training with my buddies. I’m not going to drop out and let him take over. The little shit’s body is responding to Mike’s heavy lifting program and thanks to Dean’s coaching the kid is kicking Dean’s ass on a regular basis! Well, that just takes some of the pressure off me.

As though it weren’t bad enough, some guy came up to me at the gym yesterday and said he saw a tape of me fighting some kid in the park, on the community access TV channel. He said it is one of their most requested shows so they are going to play it every Friday night!

OH, SHIT!