Rumspringa 9: Karl vs. Nils

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Karl turned and faced Nils squarely. A challenge had been issued, and Karl was letting it soak in. Karl could sense that this was going to be good. Straight-off-the-farm Nils, so pure and good, coming to the defense of his smaller buddy. Karl's upper lip sneered with pleasure. The thought of taking down this young cocky musclehead, busting his bubble of overconfidence, redefining what pain and power could mean. The pleasure of anticipation spread to his groin, as he thought of the look on the boy's face as Karl took him down.

Not that it would be as easy as usual. During their workout together, Karl had seen Nils's potential. Very few could keep up with Karl at all. In fact, thirty minutes into their session, and Jimmy, the ex-marine powerlifter, had crumbled from the intensity. Nils, on the other hand, kept right up with him, hitting the exteme poundage and pace like an eager pup. Karl rarely got a chance to train with a potential equal.

Meanwhile, Nils, staring down for the other end of the alley, was sizing up the older man he'd just challenged. Nils had won every fight he'd ever been in with ease, but no one in amish country had been remotely as massive and powerful as Karl. Yet Nils saw this as his first step in proving to himself that he was ready to conquer the outside world. In fact, by defeating Karl, he would know that nothing could stop him from realizing his dreams.

Both huge bulls took a step toward each other at the same moment. Both stoked and pumped from their workout, their testosterone and adrenaline spiking off the map, flooding their powerful bodies. Their nostrils flared as they took another step.

"Why don't we make this interesting, farm boy?" said Karl.

"How so?" asked Nils.

"Let's make a little wager," Karl said.

"Name it," said Nils.

"I take you down, I get your little buddy over there," said Karl, nodding back at me.

"And?" asked Nils.

"You take me down, you get the gym."

Nils and I both blinked hard at that one. I shook out of the hose that Karl had bound me up in. "What the fuck," I said, "he can't give me away."

"Shut the fuck up," they both said back, ignoring my protest. I could see Nils' greedy amish head calculating the net worth of a hardcore gym of this magnitude. On top of what a kick-start it would give his future, owning a big city gym like this. He started getting so boned up, he had to readjust himself. Karl smirked at his reaction, knowing he had him.

Karl picked up one of the old 100lb olympic plates that was against the wall. He cracked it over his big knee, snapping it in two like a big cracker. He took one half in each hand, raised them overhead and slammed them into the cinder block wall of the opposite building at a 45 degree angle to each other. They wedged into the wall like two molly bolts. Karl picked me up under my arms and hung me across them. "For safekeeping," he said. I began to struggle, but the jagged edges of rusty iron ripped through my shirt and scraped against my underarms.

"Jesus, dude, I'll get tetanus," I said, wiggling around, all my weight bearing down on my armpits. Karl rolled his eyes, then picked up a piece of rebar and slammed it into the wall, just high enough for my feet to rest on it, tip-toed, but not enough to push off my crucifix.

"Bring it on," said Nils, crouching a bit into a fight stance. Karl turned toward Nils and crouched back, and advanced. They slammed into each other like two battering rams, each rearing up to full height as they locked up. Their powerful arms wrapping around like massive boa constictors. They went shoulder to shoulder, pushing for dominance. Their grunts were deep and guttural as they tested each others strength. They pushed with their thick calves and quads, digging divots into the blacktopped alley with their feet. They pivoted around each other a couple of times. A few times, Karl actually lifted Nils off his feet as they spun around. It was hard to tell if Karl was toying with Nils, or if he had met an equal who might have a chance of beating the older powerhouse.

On one of their pivots, Karl shoved off hard and knocked Nils off balance. Karl used the momentum to slam Nils into the brick wall of the alleyway. The brick cracked behind the weight of Nils's thick broad back. Karl slammed him into the wall again, smashing the brick and mortar into pieces. Karl shoved Nils through the hole in the wall, breaking their hold. Nils disappeared, but Karl jumped right in after. I could hear grunting and roaring and smashing as they tore into each other. Then suddenly, they smashed back out into the alley, busting another hole in the brick wall. They grappled each other on the ground, rolling around in the debris. Mortar dust caked their sweaty torsos like ash.

"Little fuckin sonofabitch," spewed Karl, as he slammed his big knee into Nils' side, a blow that would have dented a tank, but Nils took it and continued to fight back.

"Eat shit," grunted Nils, and he managed to roll behind Karl and locked him into a half nelson, grabbing Karl's wrist and yanking it behind his head, locking one arm through and under Karl's other arm. Karl grunted with pain. Nils applied as much pressure as he could, pressure that would have broken another man's arm. Karl, however, stood up. This allowed Nils to apply even more pressure, pulling down hard from the back. Karl clearly felt the pain. His face reddened deeply. He grunted, and began to push up against the hold. Nils pushed in harder, but I could see Karl's arm begin to rise up. His triceps bulged with insane power, and he pushed up more, weakening the hold. It seemed impossible, what he was doing. I had seen Nils squat a tractor, yet Karl was powering out of his half nelson!

"YEHHHH", roared Karl, as he pushed Nils' arm up, then, with a mighty twist, flipped Nils over his shoulder, slamming him down hard onto the busted up brick. Karl stood over him, huffing, sweat running down the gray ash on his torso like rivers.

"Get up so I can knock you down again," said Karl.

"Fuck that," said Nils, taking his thick, tractor-squatting leg, and slamming his shin into the side of Karl's knee. The force of the blow would have buckled a bridge trestle, but Karl's thick muscle and ligaments of steel absorbed the kick like nothing. Karl looked down at Nils, and shook his finger at him.

"Fuck..." said Nils. There was nothing like this in amish country.

Karl leaned down and flipped Nils over onto his stomach. Karl sat himself down on Nils' big bubble butt, then kidney-punched him with a couple swift, accurate jabs. Nils howled in pain, and tried in vain to push up and out of Karl's control.

"I think I might just have to take you as my prize, boy," said Karl, grinding his groin against Nil's thick squat butt. Karl grabbed Nils' arm and twisted it up and behind his back. Nils grunted into the blacktop. Karl wrenched the thick arm hard. "Give?" asked Karl.

"Fuckk," gritted Nils.

Karl twisted the big arm harder. "You know how long it will take your shoulder to heal if I pop the bone right outta the socket, hayseed?" asked Karl. He knew Nils all too well, knew his ambitions and goals, and how badly he would need to protect them. "Give?"

"FUCK," cried Nils.

Karl wrenched more, only a fraction away from ripping tendons and damaging the powerful limb. "Give, boy," said Karl. He had no intention of hurting Nils. He had enjoyed the fight immensely, and had a raging hardon to show for it.

"I give," said Nils.

"Tap out," said Karl.

"Fuck," said Nils. He tapped out three times.

"Nice, boy," said Karl, grinding into Nils' thick glutes. "I might just have to enjoy this ass over and over." Karl stood up, and helped Nils to his feet. Nils looked at Karl shyly. 'Shyly' was a word I thought I'd never use for Nils. Karl put his hand on the back of Nils' head and, pulling him in, kissed him. A hard, deep, dominate kiss, forcing Nils' head back and down. I could see Nils kissing back. They were kissing as hard and intensely as they had fought, both of them snorting and breathing hard. Karl forced Nils back against the part of the wall that was still there. The kiss continued, tongues rassling, their hands groping their rockhard muscled bodies, still gritty from the battle.

"Jesus, dudes, get a room," I bitched from my perch on the wall. "Now come up for air and get me down."

The two big bulls broke their lip-lock and looked over at me.

"Guess I won you fair and square," said Karl, coming over and lifting me off the wall like an old jacket. He threw me over his shoulder and turned to Nils. "Let's go up to my studio and shower off," he said.

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