Rumspringa 4
by BBMSN
Read previous partThe patrolman's lights flashed behind us on the shoulder of the turnpike. We were in big trouble now, as Nils had been driving my car over 110mph on the turnpike and had blown right through the tollbooth. I looked back as the trooper got out of his car. He was big and thick, and looked italian. He also looked mad as hell. Nils opened his door and started to get out.
"Hey," I said, "stay in the car!"
"Fuck that," he said, and climbed out and shut the door. His huge musclebutt filled the window. His glutes stretched his jeans tight as spandex. I hadn't realized he was so massive before. He strutted toward the back of the car, glutes rolling, and I heard the officer say, "Stay right where you are, boy." Nils kept walking, and the trooper put his hand on his holster.
"What seems to be the problem, Officer?" asked Nils.
"Put your hands in the air, boy, and we won't have a problem," said the officer.
Nils put his hand behind his heads, and flexed his arms, which swelled up like two bowling balls. The cop continued to keep his hand on his holster.
"You want to handle this man to man, or you need a bigger badge to hide behind?" said Nils. He puffed out his huge chest, and rolled his pecs, slow and hard, in a not-so-subtle challenge of male superiority.
"Listen, boy, you just show me your license, and nobody will get hurt," said the trooper.
"This is my license, copper," said Nils, and he stripped his shirt off over his head, and hit a most-muscular pose. Every fiber of huge muscle rippled and striated at his command. He squeezed his arms more tightly inward, his granite delts rounding out, his traps rising up like oncoming tital waves of pure muscle.
The trooper sized up the muscle giant in front of him. He'd dealt with cocky Amish kids on rumspringa before, but never one of this size and condition.
But the trooper was no pushover. He had a third-degree black belt, and had his bench press up to 405. And he was bored with handing out speeding tickets. The thought of knocking this kid around for a bit turned him on. So he undid his holster and let it slip to the ground. Then he took a step toward Nils.
"I am gonna clean your clock, you smartass Amish punk," he said.
"Bring it on, pig," said Nils, smirking, and motioning with his fingers for the cop to come at him.
This made the trooper bristle, and he felt the hair on the back of his thick neck stand up. He hadn't had a challenge this good since he'd won the Trooper Powerlifting Contest last spring. He charged at Nils and slammed into him full-force.
But Nils was ready for him, and didn't budge an inch. Instead, he clamped his big arms around the trooper and lifted him easily into the air. He powerslammed the cop into the hood of the squad car, denting it massively.
"YEH," growled Nils. He went to lift the trooper up, but the cop put his feet against Nils' chest and used his thick legs to push Nils back. Nils stumbled back against the trunk of my car with a thud. The trooper was off the hood of his car in an instant, and flew at Nils, throwing one karate move after another at him.
Unfortunately for the trooper, Nils had the reaction speed of lightning, and, without ever having a karate lesson in his life, he deflected every blow with ease. His smirk just made the trooper angrier and angrier, and the big cop started throwing wild punches and kicks, trying to bust through Nils' formidable defenses. He was nearly exhausted when Nils said, "That's enough of that, weakling."
He grabbed the trooper into a bearhug, and lifted him up. He squeezed with his powerful arms. The cop was already puffing for air, and Nil's crushing hold made it even harder to breath. Then Nils began to shake the cop back and forth.
"Yeahhhhh," he hissed, as he shook the trooper like a ragdoll. The cop reared his head back and hit Nils with a forehead butt to the nose. Stunned, Nils' grip loosened. The cop's feet hit the ground, and he pushed off, tipping Nils off balance and sending them both falling. They landed on the edge of the steep embankment at the side of the highway. With a powerful twist, the cop rolled them off the edge and down the steep slope, hundreds of pounds of beef, bouncing and rolling over each other. At the bottom was a huge granite boulder that stopped their roll when Nils' back slammed into it. I heard the whoosh of air being knocked out of him from the impact.
The trooper rolled away from him and got to his feet, crouching to pounce again. The buttons of his shirt were straining to hold in his chest, pumped with muscle and andrenaline. Sweat had soaked through his pits and around his pecs.He hunched down like a gorilla, ready to tear into Nils, who rolled off the rock, stunned, but still focussed on his opponent. His back was red from landing on the rock, which was split down the middle where his thick muscle had crashed into it. His back was hulking, swollen, tighter and piled more thickly with muscle than ever.
He shook off the fall almost instantly, and focussed again on the trooper. The two men glared at each other, nostrils flaring, breathing deep and strong. They circled each other as if in a wrestling ring. Suddenly, they locked up, and, pushing with their legs and grappling with their arms and shoulders, tried to gain an advantage to take the other man down. Nils was clearly the stronger and bigger of the two, and began to manuever the trooper backwards, toward a clump of trees. Nils was aiming to pin the trooper against a big oak tree, and was moving him fast, when the older, more experienced man used Nils momentum to reverse the hold, and slammed the big Amish farmboy into the tree instead.
The trooper pinned him there with his bodyweight, then moved his brawny forearm up to Nils' neck. He pushed his forearm hard, trying to cut off Nils' air, but the neck was too thick with muscle. The trooper couldn't dent the powerful column, and Nils just grinned down at him.
Nils put his hands under the trooper's sweaty pits, and lifted him off the ground. He curled the big cop up and down, pumping his arms even bigger then before. His strength seemed to have doubled, and he stepped away from the tree, turned, and slammed the cop into the big trunk. He slammed him against the tree again and again, until acorns were fallling all around them. Then he tossed the trooper back to the base of the embankment. He charged over to him, stood above him, his muscles swollen, engorged, more vascular than ever before. He got on top of the trooper, and wrenched his arm behind his back. He pinned the trooper's head into the ground.
"Give," ordered Nils.
"Fuck you," grunted the cop.
Nils applied more pressure to the arm. "This is only a fraction of my strength, cop. Now give before I rip it out of its socket." Nils could feel the cop struggling under him, trying futilely to break the hold. Nils applied slightly more pressure to the twisted arm, and finally the cop banged the ground with his other hand, tapping out. Nils released the hold, and stood up, straddling the trooper, and flexed a double-bi shot. His freak triple peaks bunched up high and powerful, clearly over 24" of pumped up, farm-powered guns. Nils leaned over and helped the trooper to his feet. The big cop brushed himself off. He'd never lost a fight before, but at least it was to this muscle behemoth with the strength of ten.
"You are one strong son of a bitch, boy," said the trooper. "Now get in your car and get outta here, but at least try not to bust the sound barrier."
With the silent understanding of two alpha males, Nils nodded to the trooper and headed back up to the car, psyched up to continue to the city, and become a total muscle beast.