Rumspringa 6: Karl Wrestles
by BBMSN
Nils and I followed Karl up to the wrestling room. Even Nils knew enough not to balk at the big man's orders, at least not yet. As we made our way up the back stairs, it began to smell more and more like my high school gymnasium during wrestling practice: the air thick with male hormone, dank with sweat, a place where physical domination and aggression ruled.
We stepped into the wrestling room, which took up the whole second floor of the gym. There were a few mats in the middle, and some benches along one wall, but otherwise, it was empty and stark, as if the room itself were waiting for a brutal battle to begin. It was also hot. Unlike the gym downstairs, which never seemed to have any heat at all, even in the dead of winter, this room was blasting with heat. Somehow I knew this must be Karl's doing, a way of making the matches even more intensely grueling.
Matt and Jimmy were in the far corner of the big room. The shirtless Matt was doing a hand-stand....on one hand. With Jimmy touching his legs just enough to maintain balance, Matt pushed his 310lbs of bodyweight up and down...one-handed handstand pushups. He did ten with each arm, then pushed himself into the air and onto his feet, remarkably agile for a man his size. He had been warming up for the match ever since Karl had sent him up here. Now, his upper torso was insane with pump. Sweat rolled down him in thick streams.Like a peacock, he flared his super-wide shoulders back. His deltoids were monstrous, and purple from his handstand pushups. Because of his powerlifting, his muscle had a density that very few bodybuilders ever achieve. And his pecs had swollen up like two over-inflated, almost purple, balloons, which he rolled and flexed as he stretched himself out. Matt had never wrestled Karl, and was convinced that he was going to beat the old man with no problem.
Karl ignored Matt's cocky display. He turned toward me, and grabbed each side of his shirt collar and ripped it down the middle, exposing his chiselled muscle. His shredded polo shirt was held open wide by his meaty nipples, like two freaky curtain ties. He displayed his own muscularity by clenching his abs, popping out the granite-hard muscle with razor sharpness. His rockgut looked like it could stop a tank.
"Give me some luck, babe," he said to me. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my mouth up to his. Then he kissed me. Kissed me deep and hard, his muscle tongue working my mouth like a hungry python. An electrical surge of pleasure plowed through me. He kissed like a god, totally in control, and taking what he wanted. Slow and deep he worked me. Nothing existed but his tongue and lips and power. I tasted them all. His heavy stubble scraped roughly against my face. He sucked my lips hard, and I sucked back. Then he put me down. My legs were so numb, I stumbled backward. Nils caught me.
Karl stripped off his ripped shirt and tossed it aside. I heard Nils go "Whoa" as we got a full grasp of Karl's physique. Massive, thick, and solid. Total alpha-beast. He stripped off his pants, so that he was down to a pair of square-cut wrestling trunks, the kind Goldberg wears, only, somehow, on Karl, they looked more intimidating. Each leg looked like several giant pythons, braided together. As he walked over to the mats, the muscle rolled and rippled. He motioned with his fingers for Matt to come over. "Round one," said Karl.
Matt came over along with Jimmy. Jimmy flipped a coin, and Matt called heads, and won. Having lost the toss, Karl got down on his hands and knees. Matt kneeled down next to him, and looped one arm under Karl's massive lat and pit, hooking his hand onto Karl's trap. Jimmy yelled "Go", and Matt began to pull. He pulled and pulled, straining to get Karl up and over. Yet despite all over Matt's enormous upper body size and strength, Karl didn't even budge. Matt's face reddened with the strain, but the older man didn't move.
"That better not be all you have, boy," said Karl.
Matt began to look a little panicked. He had wrestled for Oklahoma State for four years before getting into powerlifting, and had never lost a match without at least bruising up his opponent pretty good. Now, he couldn't even move his opponent.
Karl had given Matt long enough. He twisted his left shoulder downward, hard, and flipped Matt over him like a pillow. Matt landed on his back, and Karl got on top of him, pinning his chest with his heavy forearm. Matt struggled hard, but couldn't move. Jimmy, acting as ref, counted Matt out in three. Karl stood up, and helped Matt to his feet. It had taken Karl under five seconds to pin Matt.
"Round two," said Karl. This time, he stayed standing, and with two fingers of each hand, motioned for Matt to come at him. "Bring it on," he said.
The two men circled each other briefly, then Karl moved in, locking up shoulder to shoulder with the younger man. The two big bulls pushed against the other's power, grunting and shoving, their powerful legs working hard. They looked like two huge sumo wrestlers, only 100 percent muscle instead of fat. The sweat rolled off them in the over-heated room. The mat was getting slippery from it dripping off of them. Karl was definitely in charge, powering Matt first to one side of the mat, then the other, using his superior strength to sap Matt's power. The second Matt's legs faltered, Karl flipped him down to the floor, pinning him again. Jimmy counted out three.
Karl stood up. Sweat dripped off his thumb-sized nips. "Round three," he said, towering over Matt, who was breathing hard. His skin was blotchy from the manhandling he was taking. He looked up at Karl, and seemed to be thinking about what to do next. Karl decided for him.
"GET UP," ordered Karl. Matt struggled to his feet. Karl grabbed him, spun him around and locked him into a full nelson, his powerful arms locking in tight. Matt tried pushing back with his legs, but Karl leaned into him and held him firm. He tightened his hold even more, and wrenched Matt back and up off the ground, knocking the wind out of him with the force. Karl lowered him down, then wrenched him up again. And again. Matt's arms began to flop around weakly. Karl applied more pressure against Matt's neck, pushing his head down and making it harder for him to breathe. Then he began to shake him back and forth like a ragdoll, spraying sweat everywhere as he did it.
"YEHHH," snarled Karl, getting off on the feel of his own strength as he manhandled the 310lb powerlifter. Just when it looked like Matt was going to pass out, Karl tossed him down to the mat, face down. Karl got onto his back, grabbed his arm and pulled it behind him and bent Matt's forearm up into an armbar. "Feel like tapping out, boy?" Karl asked him. When Matt hesitated to respond, Karl wrenched him up using the armbar as leverage. Matt bellowed in pain. Karl slammed him back down, splashing his face in a puddle of his own sweat. "I will rip your fuckin arm off," growled into Matt's ear. Matt tapped out. Karl released the arm and stood up. He flexed his arms into a double bi, and kissed each huge mountain of arm muscle, massive with wrestled-up pump.
"Round four," he said, looking down on Matt. Matt just lay there.
"Matt, get up," begged Jimmy,"just get the fuck up." He looked up nervously at Karl.
Matt struggled to his feet. He wobbled, and looked about to fall back down, when he suddenly lunged at Karl. He tackled Karl around the waist. Karl, taken by surprise, stumbled back before regaining his footing.
"Nice try, boy," he said, as Matt tried vainly to get shove him back further. Karl reached down and grabbed Matt by his armpits, lifting him off of him. "But you got nothing on this," he said. He put Matt back on his feet and stepped back. Then he crunched his enormous upper torso into a most-muscular crab shot, squeezing the muscle with all his strength. "jesus," said Jimmy, stepping back, as Karl's muscle exploded with size. Every huge fiber of muscle responded to his command. Soaked in sweat, he looked bigger than ever, and stronger than a tank. He reached one arm straight out to his side, and slammed into Matt's chest with his monster forearm, clotheslining Matt right back onto his back with a wet THUD. "Round five," said Karl. He flipped Matt over onto his stomach, then sat down on the Matt's lower back. He reached around and grabbed Matt's jaw with both hands, and pulled his head back into a camel clutch. Matt's back arched back, and he groaned with exhaustion. Karl ached Matt's back so hard, it would have snapped a smaller man, and he seemed to know it. He leaned into Matt's ear and said, "Now, are you ever, ever gonna treat one of our members with disrespect again?" Matt grunted out a no. "That's what I thought," said Karl. "Because if I find out you do, I won't take it nearly so easy on you next time." He let go off Matt's jaw, and Matt collapsed into a puddle of sweat.
Karl headed our way, looking huge and musclebound, insanely pumped up and vascular. He looked at Nils and said, "You ready for the training of your life?"