Mangler's Wrestling Stories

A series of stories written by myself (Mangler) and other authors. Most of these are reposts from my previous webpage, but there are some new stories as well. To easily navigate by author, simply click on the links below.

Comments on the stories are always appreciated.

Monday, April 12, 2021

Resolving Differences

 

Resolving Differences

By

Gym Dude

I manage a crew of men at a warehouse.  These guys are typically in their late teens or early twenties and strong athletic guys.  Let’s face it, while many of these men are fairly bright, they weren’t hired for their brains.

Jerry has always been one of my best workers.  He is 21 and stands a little over 6 feet tall and weighs around 195.  A standout baseball player in high school, he still trains and maintains a lean, hard and strong body.  We belong to the same gym and I’ve seen him lift so I know the kid is uncommonly strong.  I’ve seen him outside catching some rays during a break and couldn’t help but notice that this kid’s body is nicely ripped.  No matter how hard we’re working I never see him look tired.  The guy is even tempered and always quick with a joke.  He is one of the most liked and most respected of my crew.  Which is why I was so amazed when I overheard him say he was going to get into it with one of my new hires.

Marco has been with us for less than a week and impressed me as an easy-going guy that I thought would fit in well with our team.  Mexican in heritage, he stands barely 5’ 6” and kind of resembles a fire plug.  The other day we needed a box and it was on the bottom of a stack of three or four boxes.  Marco reached down to pull out the bottom box and I was surprised to see him even move it.  These boxes weigh at least 70 pounds each and work their way up from there.  I asked if he’d like to pull the others off the top and he replied, “No sweat.  I got it.”  It took him a few grips, but the guy actually pulled the large box back enough to let the others slide down behind it leaving them perfectly placed.  I was impressed.

“Let me guess, you played in the line.” I said with a chuckle.  “Yeah, tackle.” He replied, but the ability to do THAT comes from wrestling.” He commented pointing at the boxes while he positioned his shoulders making sure to flex his pecs for my benefit leaving no doubt that this is one solid dude.

“So, what do you bench?” I asked, my question causing a little more flexing from the shorter man.  “Lately I don’t go much over 365.” He smiled.  “I don’t want to sound lazy, but I hate switching a lot of plates so I tend to just load on a few big ones and keep it at that.”  Damn, I thought.  Nice problem to have.

I knew the kid was only 19 and out of school about a year and I wondered about the weight gain suffered by a lot of lineman when they leave school, so I asked if that was a problem.  “Nah. Not for me.  I wrestled at 189 so I always had to put on weight for football.  I spent so much time in the weight room that the gym became a natural place for me when I got out of school.  Now I just work on increasing strength and flexibility and keeping the fat off. You know, staying in top shape like you obviously do!”

My work in the gym was no secret around here, “So you’re into bodybuilding too?” I asked?

“Well” he smiled almost as though he were bashful, “No one is ever going to mistake me for a competitive bodybuilder.  I just want to be in the best shape I can.  Let’s leave it at that.”  Marco subconsciously flexed the muscles in his arms for emphasis.  The move was hardly necessary since his tank top made sure everyone had a good idea of the power he was packing.

“Fair enough” I smiled back but there’s one thing I want to cover with you.  It is very important to me that my crew runs smooth and everyone gets along.  We are team, just like your football team and I want to see my people working together and depending upon one another.  I don’t need any dissention.

“And you’re saying someone has a problem with me?” Marco looked rather surprised.

“Well, I happened to overhear one of my guys talking about getting pissed off at something the new guy called him and I want to make sure crap like this doesn’t get out of control.”

Marco’s face lit up with a sheepish grin, “Yeah.  That might be my fault.  I told that tall dude he was a punk.  All the guys were killing some time and I joined in.  So, he got really rattled, huh?”

“From what I could see, he seemed pissed.  Listen, you seem like a good guy and Jerry is one of my better people, I want you two on better terms.  He’s working over on the far side of the warehouse right now, I want you to go over with me and work this thing out.  Are you up for that?”

“Oh, hell yes, I don’t want any misunderstandings either.  I’d be more than happy clear the air.” Marco responds enthusiastically.   The two of us head toward the far end of the warehouse finding Jerry.  A few hours of hard work have caused his t-shirt to hug his solid young frame and his muscles in motion help show off the dude’s great shape.

“Jerry” I call and he smiles as he turns toward me, his smile fading quickly at the sight of Marco.  We approach with me standing between the two men.  “Listen, Jerry.  I don’t want any problems on my team.  I get the idea that you two got off on the wrong foot and I’d like to see things get resolved.

“Yeah, Man.  I want to make sure there are no misunderstandings!” Marco says as he reaches his open hand forward.

Jerry still seems pissed and so far, has heard no apology but doesn’t want to disappoint the boss either and offers his hand.  Marcos smiles as he takes a solid grip then surprises both of us by pulling sharply yanking Jerry off balance forcing him to twist and stagger forward.  In a heartbeat Marco slams him into one of the fastest full-nelsons I have ever witnessed!

Jerry clumsily tries to find his footing leaving the lean, hard-bodied athlete fighting for balance as the shorter man muscles down hard with his devastating hold.

“What the hell!” I exclaim, stunned by the sudden move.

“Relax, Boss” Marco smiles back, “I’m just making sure ol’ Jerry and I understand each other.”

As Jerry’s lean muscles flex and strain to break free, Marco stands solid and firm nearly motionless then with amazing calmness in his voice he begins to narrate for me.  “You see, with this hold, most guys lack finesse.  They go for the kill right off the bat and pour on full power or jerk their man around with short violent pulses of power.  They usually gain a quick submission but I consider that tactic somewhat crude.  I much prefer to take my time and let my opponent experience the true beauty of the full-nelson.

Marco’s thickly muscled arms have taken on the look of solid stone as they remain locked solid while Jerry twists his strong lean body in every direction.  “If I were to go full-power on this guy I would probably do some serious damage and there is no point in that.”

The smaller man continues like a technician teaching a class, “Watch what I do here as I slowly increase the pressure.  The trick is that I don’t start and stop like most guys, my hold just keeps getting tighter and tighter regardless of what my man tries to do to counter me.  The first thing our big buddy will find out is that he cannot flex out of my grip.  Jerry is in pretty good shape but his strength is simply no match for my pure muscle POWER!  Now Jerry here is a natural fighter so as he learns that his muscles are not going to help him, he will attempt to maneuver his way out.”

As if on cue Jerry begins to struggle making every effort to wrench his arms free but they are locked in solid and going nowhere.  After nearly a full minute of fierce struggle, Jerry’s lean hard body starts to relax.

“AAARRGHH” Jerry gasps in frustration while he tries flexing against the immovable force of Marco’s powerful guns.

“We’ve reached to point where your big boy’s muscles start to fatigue and fail him and old Jerry is figuring out that escape is impossible but he now has to face the fact that my grip keeps getting tighter and tighter.  What can he do?”

“UUUUGGGH!” Jerry gasps unable to move in Marco’s muscular grip. “What …..  What do you want from me?”  Jerry asks in resignation.

“Quite simple, Buddy.  Just admit that you’re a punk, that’s all.  The boss here wants to make sure we don’t have a misunderstanding.  I just need you to confirm that we agree.  You got a problem with that?”

I can hear the strain in Jerry’s voice as he struggles to reply, “Ass – Hole!”

Being the man in obvious control, I expect Marco to just crush his man but the short solid fireplug smiles even wider.  “Don’t mind our big buddy here. Jerry will come around in a minute or so.”

“AAARGGHH!  Damn!”  Jerry’s strong athletic body is disintegrating before my eyes.  Worn down and helpless, the bigger man drops to one knee while Marco’s muscular body hardly moves leaving Jerry’s lean frame stretching out toward the floor.  A very impressive sight to behold and yet the muscleman’s fearsome grip keeps getting tighter and tighter.

The end comes quicker than I expected, “Alright!  Aright!  I’m ….. a ….. PUNK!!!”

“Great!” Marco exclaims as he releases Jerry’s defeated frame allowing the larger athlete’s body to collapse to the floor.  “That’s all it takes, Boss.  Just a little friendly persuasion, I knew our boy would come around sooner or later.  They all do!”  Marco reaches down gripping Jerry’s arm and helping him to his feet but the bigger man steps back in anger.

“I’ll get you for this!” Jerry spits out while working his arms to get the feeling back.”  I’m thinking that is either very brave or very stupid considering what he’s just been through.

Marco steps in front of the taller man with his hands open, “Listen, Buddy.  The boss wants us all to get along and it seems like you’ve got all this ANGER that needs to be released.  We can work with that.”  In one smooth move Marco plants his hands on Jerry’s sculptured pecs and in an instant the athlete’s body smashes into the concrete column behind him.  I am amazed at the amount of force Marco delivers with so little apparent motion.

Jerry’s eyes open wide from the impact as his stunned body staggers forward.  Like an expert, Marco steps into his man planting his head against the stud’s chest right under Jerry’s jaw.  The muscleman’s big arms clamp Jerry’s muscular guns to his side as Marco grips his hands together so quickly his opponent hasn’t even had a chance to counter.

“UUUGHHH!” is all the bigger man can get out as Marco’s powerful arms begin to flex, his cannonball biceps crushing Jerry’s fully flexed upper arms into the sides of his chest.

“Once again, Boss.  Let me demonstrate the art of finesse!  I never use a big blast of power on these guys.  Just lock them up and continuously turn up the heat.”

Jerry’s strong athletic body strains against the pressure as once again he tries desperately to flex his way free but just as before, Jerry’s strength is no match for Marco’s power.  The pressure of the muscleman’s thickly muscled biceps crushing Jerry’s upper arms becomes evident as the athlete begins breaking down.  Jerry’s own powerful arm muscles are being used to crush into his chest while Marco’s massively muscled guns do their work.

“Oh GAWD!” Jerry moans as the pressure mounts.

“I give him less than a minute.” Marco says calmly.”  I’m amazed at the sight as I watch the thick muscles across Marco’s broad back and shoulders slowly power up, his rock-solid arms threatening to crush their helpless victim.

“You’ll notice that your big buddy can’t even move.  He’ll figure things out quickly enough.” Marco laughs more for my benefit than Jerry’s.

“AAAARRGGHH!  AAAAGHH!  Please.  I give.  I give.  I give up!”  Jerry can hardly get the words out as he gasps for what little air he can get into his chest as it is crushed by Marco’s unrelenting pressure.

“Jerry, Old Pal.” Marco responds to the desperate athlete in his grip, “You’ve already proven that you don’t take submission seriously.  I’m afraid just giving up isn’t going to be enough this time.  You will need to admit that I am your MASTER!”

“What!” the bigger man gasps just as shocked as I am at the demand.  I’m thinking I should have stopped this long ago, but I want to see how it works out myself.  After all this isn’t the first battle we’ve seen in here.

“You’re nuts!” Jerry struggles to respond while Marco remains quiet as his fearsome grip gets tighter and tighter around Jerry’s chest.

“AAARRGGHHH!  DAMN, MAN!  OOOOOGGHHHH!  OK!  I give.  I give.”  Then only after a long agonizing pause…..”Master.”

With incredible calmness belying the amazing force his muscles must be exerting Marco responds, “Master …. What?”

“UUUUGHHHHH!  Master, Sir!” Jerry barely squeaks out.

 I have to admit that I am overwhelmed by the speed and efficiency with which this young 19-year-old kid has completely dominated his taller and slightly heavier foe.  It is clear to me that Jerry never stood a chance against this iron muscled kid.  Jerry’s speed and strength has earned his place as one of the leaders in this pack and it makes me wonder how the rest of these studs will stack up against this powerful little brute!

“Agree that you are my slave and you will do what I want, when I want, without question.” Marco demands with his voice still calm and Jerry’s body still being crushed tighter each moment.

Jerry takes longer than I expect, obviously trying to figure any other way out of this crushing hold, then at last, “I am your slave.” The words muttering from his mouth.

“Pardon me?  I don’t think the boss heard that.”  Marco smiles and winks at me.

Straining with each syllable Jerry concedes his total defeat, “I am your slave. Master, Sir!”

I am shocked and stunned to see Marco’s big muscles continue to flex after Jerry’s complete submission, “Come on, Marco.  The dude has given up!” I plead.

“You’re right, Boss.  But he is now my slave and has agreed that I can do whatever I want with him.  Right now, that includes crushing his puny body and making an example for the rest of the guys.  After all,” he smiles, “you don’t want any more MISUNDERSTANDINGS!”

As the remaining air is forced from his chest, Jerry slumps in total defeat, his head flopping against that of the muscleman gripping him.  Only then does Marco release the big stud letting him fall unceremoniously to the floor on his back.

 About a week later, while touring the warehouse I notice Marco walking toward the back.  This seemed odd since he was scheduled for a break.  I peer around the corner and see Jerry working alone on some boxes.  Quietly Marco creeps up behind him stopping about 15 or 20 feet short.  While Jerry works, unsuspecting of his visitor, Marco assumes a familiar three-point stance and when the moment is right the tackle explodes with power driving his shoulder into Jerry’s lower back.  The stunned athlete lets out an agonizing scream just an instant before his lean muscular body smashes into a stack of heavy boxes, crushed by the incredible driving force behind him.

Marco stands laughing while Jerry slides to the ground moaning in agony.  Gasping for air he struggles to speak, “I ….. I don’t want to fight you, Sir.”

But Marco looks down at his damaged foe lying on his back at the muscle stud’s feet, “But you WILL fight, if I tell you to!”  Marco flexes his powerful muscles as he speaks.

“Yes, Master, Sir!” is Jerry’s dutiful reply.

Marco bends down driving his right fist hard into Jerry’s washboard abdominals, “UUUUGHHHH!” the big hunk responds to the powerful blow.

“What do you say?” Marco asks firmly.

“Another, Sir.  May I have another?” The stud athlete struggles with the words as though he knows his fate if he should answer incorrectly.

“Yes, My Salve.  You may!” I am amazed by the size and definition of Marco’s big right arm as he reloads his cannon before driving his fist into the stomach of his unwilling target.

“UUUUUGGGFFFFF!  OOOOOOGGGHHH!” Jerry is in obvious agony as Marco simply pats the bigger man on the head like a puppy and strolls back.

As the turns the corner, the little muscleman doesn’t look the least bit concerned that his boss may have just watched him beat the crap out of one of the other employees.

With a casual smile he simply acknowledges, “No misunderstandings, just like you said.”  Marco stands before me stretching his muscular arms and shoulders looking even stronger than before.  I can’t imagine any of my crew standing up to this kid’s amazing power, but somehow, I start to get the feeling this muscular young horse is sizing ME up.

Damn!  I’ve got this little brute by 35 pounds of rock-solid bodybuilder muscle and a good 8 inches in height.  Every man here knows I’ve got the muscle and I know how to use it but now I wonder, as Marco takes his position at the top of the crew as I know he will, am I next on his list?

 

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