Rumspringa 5

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Nils climbed up the embankment to the car. I climbed over to the driver's side.

"I'll drive the rest of the way," I said, as he leaned into the open passenger side door.

"OK," said Nils, climbing in. His massive 260lb body was totally jacked up from beating the state trooper in hand to hand combat. "Look at my fucking arms," he said, flexing them in front of himself so he could watch the thick muscle bunch up into rounded balls. "I was always the strongest Amish kid growing up, and now I know I can outmuscle powerfully built Outsiders too."

He flexed his left arm and felt it up with his left hand. "Yeahhh," he said, impressed by his own size and strength. The whole car smelled of young farmer muscle, the smell steaming off him, straight from his defeat of the big bull cop. "Can't wait to get to the city," he said.

"Tell me something, Nils," I said to him, "how did you deflect all the cop's karate moves?" The trooper had flown at Nils with some lightning fast blows, and Nils had knocked them all away like annoying gnats.

"Growing up, I used to have my brothers and cousins try to hit me. I was so much stronger than them, I would take on two or three at a time. It didn't take long before I could knock away their blows with my powerful arms. After that became easy, I would have them throw things at me, like horseshoes and pitchforks. I would catch them midair and bend them in two, and my arms grew with strength and speed. My brothers would get tired from throwing so much stuff, but if they tried to quit, I would wrestle them to the ground and make them eat dirt. And if they tried to run away, I would run them down with ease, and punish them even harder. I loved working them over, and feeling my strength grow, day after day. So when the trooper came at me with his lame karate moves, I realized my reflexes were ten times faster than his. I could have deflected his blows all day, and two or three of his cop buddies' too, if they had been there."

I was getting hard again just listening to him talk. The big cocky amish farmer was a freak of nature, stronger and faster than anything I had ever seen. He reached into his bag and pulled out a black Nike workout shirt. He pulled it over his head. The shirt fit him like a second skin. The short sleeves barely covered half of his soccer ball-sized delts. He leaned back and fell quickly to sleep. I've always thought the sight of a big man sleeping was sexy as hell, and this was certainly no exception. I had to force myself to concentrate on the traffic around me, and not on the slumbering giant, big arms crossed across his monster chest, next to me, his sleep so deep that I could sense his body regenerating power, growing to match his next potential opponent, overcompensating from the battle he just had with the trooper to make sure he had even more power the next time. His muscles flexed and tensed, I could see them from the corner of my eye. I pulled off at a reststop so I could watch. It was like he was dreaming himself bigger, stronger. His pecs bounced up and down, striations showing. His biceps popped up and down. His abs tightened and clenched into a punchproof 8pak of granite. Occasionally he would grunt and growl deeply, or thrust his hips forward as if humping something, or someone. At one point, his hands came up, and stroked his muscles, cupping his big pecs, then rubbed against his abs and loins, and slowly moved back up.

I undid my seatbelt, and reached over to explore for myself. I laid my hand on his rounded delt. I pushed in with my fingers, finding the big shoulder hard as an newly inflated basketball. I let my hand slide down to his arm. His triceps overfilled my hand, the three heads the size and texture of ship rope. It twitched in my hand. So hard. I reached over to his abs, and rubbed up and down the ridges of muscle. So tight and hard. I ran my thumb along the ridges, feeling the density of it. Suddenly, his abs tightened hard, trapping my thumb. I looked up at him. His eyes were wide open, staring at me.

"What the fuck you doing?" he said.

"Nothing, man, nothing," I stammered. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face an inch from his face.

"Feels like you're looking for trouble," he said.

"No, man, but I just had to...feel," I said. He stared at me hard for what seemed like minutes, but then relaxed his abs, releasing my thumb. Then he grinned at me.

"I'm hungry," he said. "Find me some food."

I started the car, post haste, heading for a diner I knew that was not far from where I lived. We were almost home. Hopefully we'd be back soon enough to get to my gym, Karl's Muscle Pit, before it closed. I was aching to get Nils started.

By the time we pulled up to Karl's MusclePit Gym, it was ten of ten at night. We had stopped at a local diner earlier, where Nils ate 4 sirloin steak dinners and 6 shakes. The massive intake of food just seemed to make his muscle swell up bigger, and his supermuscled abs were stretched tight as a drum against his stuffed stomach.

The MusclePit technically closes at ten, but everyone knew that's when the really big boys showed up to workout, hopefully with Karl. Rarely seen at the gym during the day, Karl ruled the roost after ten, when his hand-picked, genetically superior muscleheads got to workout on the special equipment reserved just for them in the basement of the Pit. I was not one of them. I was just one of the slightly above average lifters, forcing myself to workout 3 or 4 times a week after work, just to maintain. Even at that, I was lucky to be a member of the Pit, because Karl only allowed a certain number of members at any one time.

Nils and I went into the gym. Nils looked around the place like a kid in a candy store. The MusclePit was 20,000 square feet of hardcore iron and lifting equipment. It really was kind of a pit. A converted warehouse, it had no AC in summer, when you would break into a sweat the second you walked inside. In winter, there was no heat, and cinder block walls would get wet with cold sweat and black with mildew. It reeked of musclehead sweat and attitude. Nils was touching the weights in disbelief, as if he had just landed in Oz. I told him to go look around, while I went up to the front desk.

All the guys who worked here were big thick muscleheads. To be hired by Karl, you had to have placed in the top three of an amateur bodybuilding contest, or powerlifting competition. All of them were jacked up to the hilt, and you did not want to cross them. The smallest one of them benched 605lbs. For reps. And when they were dieting down, they got surly as hell, and might just put you through a wall for no reason.

Working the desk tonight was Matt. At 6'6, 310lbs of powerlifter beef, he was an arrogant fuck, who rarely acknowledged my existence, even though I'd worked out here for 5 years.

"Hey, Matt," I said, in an attempted to get his attention. "I'd like to get a membership for my friend."

Matt didn't even look up. "Memberships are closed," he said, more to the magazine he was reading than to me.

"Yeah, well, I thought you might make an exception in this case," I said, holding my ground.

Matt still didn't look up. Instead, he turned his head and yelled into the backroom, "Hey, Jimmy, dude out here thinks we should ignore Karl's rules."

Jimmy came out of the backroom. At 5'9", Jimmy was 240lbs of twisted steel muscle. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him, ever. He benched 720. An ex-Marine, he had USMC tattooed on one huge delt, and the Superman logo on the other. He was always shirtless, showing off his etched muscularity that was visible even through his thick, dark, ultramasculine body hair. And don't ever complain about him leaving a bench drenched in his sweat, because he'll grab you by the neck and use your face to wipe it up, then toss you into the wall and walk away, leaving you to stare up at his rippling, monster back and rolling glutes. Don't ask how I know this.

"Oh yeah?" said Jimmy, "That what you think, sugarplum? We should just ignore Karl's directives and let you run the place?" He looked at me like I was an insect, but at least he was looking at me. Then he noticed Nils for the first time, and I could see his expression change. He eyeballed Nils up and down. He seemed to be thinking, and it looked like it hurt. "That your friend over there?" he said.

"Yeah. He's never worked out in a gym before, I thought this might help him to grow." I thought that might get his attention, and it did. He leaned toward Matt and said,"Maybe we should get Karl."

"I'm not doing jackshit," said Matt. "It's almost time to close. Come back tomorrow."

Suddenly, I noticed that Nils was next to me.He reached over the counter and grabbed Matt's collar. He lifted Matt right off his stool, and halfway across the counter.

"You ought to learn some manners," said Nils, and slammed Matt against the side wall. Jimmy grabbed Nils' arm and wrenched it, but to with no effect. Nils lifted Matt even higher. Then he shoved him back into Jimmy, sending them both flying onto their asses.

Jimmy was up on his feet fast. His face was red, and he was mad as hell.

"That was the biggest mutherfucking mistake you ever made," he said, his neck veins popping. He pounced onto the counter and grabbed Nils around the neck. Nils grabbed him off the counter, whirled him around and bodyslammed him into the gym floor, then jumped on top of him. The two big men rolled around the floor, grappling and punching at each other like two musclebound Rottweilers, knocking over weight stands and equipment. Nils grabbed Jimmy's ears, and slammed his head into the concrete floor with such force the concrete cracked. It didn't seem to effect Jimmy at all, except to make his rage grow. He muscled Nils into the air and smashed him into the mirrored wall, shattering the mirror. Nils shook it off and circled Jimmy. Both were on their feet, snorting like gorillas, focussed completely on tearing their opponent apart. As Nils circled by the sign-in desk, Matt came from behind him and locked him into a fullnelson.

"Get him, Jimmy," said Matt, wrenching Nils back as far as he could.

I was standing behind Matt, so I reared back and gave him the hardest kidney punch to his lower back that I could muster. It was like hitting a side of beef, or a superhard slab of rubber, but it did make him groan. He looked back at me, and let go of Nils. It's hard to imagine how strong 310lbs of powerlifter muscle looks until it's angry and focussed in on you. He grabbed me into a headlock, his massive hamhock bicep crushing into my skull. He lifted me right up off the ground and tightened his hold. The pain was blinding. I felt like my head had been slammed in the door of a Ford pickup. Matt's power was so overwhelming that my struggling was futile.

Suddenly I heard a voice say "Put him down." At first, I thought it must be Nils, but the voice was deeper, older, more authoritative. Matt released his hold on me and I slumped to the ground. Looking up, I saw Karl. The infamous Karl. It had been over a year since I'd seen him, and that was from afar. Most of his time at the gym was spent in the basement workout area training with the true freak lifters. The Dungeon, they called it. Sometimes, driving by the gym late at night, I'd spot one of them coming out of the back entrance, big macho bulls, looking for all the world like a superior species. Now I found myself looking up at their King.

Karl was an older guy, in his sixties from what I heard, but more powerfully built than anyone I'd ever seen. Massive and hard, the only thing that showed his age was his silver hair, and that was thicker than most twenty-year olds. They said that he had been involved in an experimental nutrition program some time ago. I'd sure like to sign up for it. He had on a polo shirt that must have been an XXXL, and it still fit tight over his monster shoulder spread. His arms had huge thick veins that branched out onto both sides of his forearms. His presence was formidable, and the entire gym came to a halt as he stood before us.

"Matt," he said, staring at his employee, "did I just see you manhandling one of our members?"

"Yessir, but..." said Matt, but Karl stopped him.

"You just bought yourself a couple rounds with me on the mats, boy," said Karl.

"But..." stammered Matt, but again, Karl stopped him with just a look.

"Are you talkin' back to me?" Karl asked.

"No, sir," said Matt.

"Good. Then wait for me upstairs."

Matt turned and walked away. I'd heard about the upstairs. Karl liked to wrestle, and had turned the floor above the gym into a big wrestling mat. He liked to take on two big men at once, and pin them on top of each other. He also used the wrestling room to punish employees who had done something that displeased him. Rumor had it that he could work guys over for hours, pinning them over and over, then making them get up and fight some more. His endurance never wavered, and he could sometimes took on three men in a row like that. They said that the third guy usually got the worst of it, because by then, Karl was warmed up. I was glad to see Matt heading for the stairs.

Karl looked at Jimmy and said,"What happened out here?"

"The little dude wanted to sign up his friend here. We told him memberships were closed, but they didn't take to it," said Jimmy.

"That right?" Karl asked me.

"That's not entirely accurate," I said, causing Jimmy to glare at me with such ferocity that I envisioned myself being pummeled into a bloody pulp the second I stepped outside. "I just thought that you might appreciate the potential of my friend Nils here," I said, nodding toward my big amish buddy.

Karl looked Nils up and down, and seemed to think it wasn't such a bad idea. He told Jimmy to get over himself, and to show Nils around the gym.

"You," he said to me, " come into my office and we'll talk about this."

I followed Karl down the hallway. His back was freakin' huge, with mounds of muscle slabbed on top of muscle, spreading out like a chinese fan. His polo shirt accentuated the deep valley running down the middle of his powerhouse back, down to his mansized glutes and thighs. My heart was pounding hard as we went into his office.

Here I was, in one of the inner sanctums of the MusclePit. I'd never seen anyone go in here with Karl except the employees, and even then, rarely. I felt like Nils, a kid in a candy store as I looked around. One wall had shelves of trophies from bench press contests, strongest man contests, powerlifting events, bodybuilding, wrestling...three long shelves of achievements. The wall opposite Karl's big desk had closed circuit monitors showing the different rooms of the gym. Karl liked to keep an eye on things apparently.

Karl shut the door, and stood before me, looking at me. I was eye-level with his muscled barrel-chest. He took a step toward me and I backed up. He took another step and I backed up into the wall. He put his hands on the wall, one on each side of me, caging me with his big forearms, like oversized parallel bars made of petrified wood. I could feel the heat coming off them. His supermasculine face was inches from mine. His beard stubble was coming in thick, and looked as coarse as wire. He leaned closer into me.

"I've seen you working out here, boy. Not a bad build for a small guy," he said, eyeing me over. "So you want me to let your friend workout here?" "Sure do," I said, nervously. "I thought, one day, he might even get to workout in the Dungeon with you."

"Is that right?" he said, moving in closer, so close I could smell his neck. "And tell me, boy, what would I get out of it?" He reached down and grabbed my shirt and started pulling it over my head.

"'d get...I mean...he might become, you know, Mr. Olympia or something." My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak. He pulled my shirt up and off, and tossed it aside.

"I was thinking I want something more than that. Something sweet and smooth, like this," he said, running his burly fingers down my torso. A shiver of sheer pleasure ran through my body. He cupped my ass and squeezed it firmly but gently. His nipples were jutting out under his polo shirt, and he saw me looking at them.

"Go ahead and have a taste, boy." I leaned into his chest and put my mouth over his shirt were the nipple stuck out. I close my mouth over it and sucked. And sucked, and sucked. The fucking thing was as big as my thumb. Karl made a noise, not so much like a groan, but like the purr of a massive contented tiger. As he pushed my head into him with one hand, I heard the brick wall crumbling underneath the pressure of his other hand. His fingers dug into the mortar around the old brick. I heard him crushing it into dust. He pulled my head off his thick nipple. There was a wet spot on his shirt where I'd been working it. He took my hand and shoved it into his pants. I instinctively wrapped my fingers around his swollen cock.

"Oh yeah, that's it boy. Knew you'd have a smooth hand. Smooth and silky as a pussy. Pump daddy's cock with that pussy hand."

God, his voice was so deep and gruff, like gravel in my ear. "Boy," he said, "You play your cards right, and I could take you to levels of pleasure that you have never even dreamt possible." He put one hand under my crotch and lifted me. His finger rubbed against my hole. I felt his strength holding me in the air like a toy. Every cell in my body fired with desire for this huge powerful older man. He bit down on my ear and my toes curled. I was his and he knew it. I wrapped one arm around him. It was like hugging a bank vault, so big and solid.

"That's right boy, my fucking little flower, precious as a little fucking orchid." I could hear him breathing me in, just like I was breathing him in. His precum was coating my hand, making it slicker and slicker as it worked up and down his shaft. Big thick manshaft of a powerhouse strongman. Hypnotized by his power, Iost in his aura of masculinity and dominance, I didn't even hear Nils come into the office.

"Hey," Nils said to Karl, "leave him alone."

Karl turned toward him, slowly, dangerously. "Did you just tell me what to do in my own gym?" he said to Nils. Even Nils looked a little uncertain about what could happen next. Karl looked back at me and said, "I'm gonna put your boy here through a workout he'll never forget. That alright with you?" He stroked his big fingers through my hair.

"Yes," I said, so turned on, so dazed, I was barely able to put the three letters together to form a word.

"You sure," said Karl, "cause I've destroyed bigger boys than this with my routine."

I nodded again, finding word formation too taxing. I also nodded at Nils, letting him know that everything was OK.

"But first," said Karl, " why don't you two come up with me to the wrestling room and watch me take care of Matt."

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