Winter 2

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Lester pulled something out of his pocket , put it to his nose and snorted hard. His eyes rolled back in his head, then his head rolled back on his thick bull neck. Two cops came up on each side of him and started pounding into him with their riot clubs. He didnt even notice. He brought his fists down onto the hood of the squad car, crumpling it like aluminum foil. He tore off the hood and tossed it, then ripped the engine block up and out. He reared back with it and tossed it smashing into the third floor of the apartment building across the street. Then he turned to the cops. His nostrils flared and his sweat was beginning to pore off him. His eyes were glazed and dilated. He grabbed the riot clubs, one in each hand, and snapped them just by closing his fists around them. You could hear them crunching in his grip, breaking in two. He grabbed one 200lb cop and shook him like a ragdoll, then slammed him through the windshield of the squad car. Then he turned on the other cop. He grabbed him underneath his jaw with one hand, and lifted him off the ground. Lester held him there, and looked at him like a curiosity, like a child would look at an empty butterfly chrysalis, so fragile and crushable in his hand.

Mr G was about to walk up, when he saw someone walking out of the shadows from the other side of Lester. It was a massive cop, clearly pushing about 300lbs of powerlifter muscle, his thick, short-sleeved arms pointing a gun right at Lester's head.

"Put him down," ordered the big cop.

Lester craned his thick neck and looked at the new cop. Sensing a much tougher challenge, he flicked his wrist and tossed the other cop into the street. He turned to face the big cop straight on. Every muscle on Lester's freaky jacked up body rippled as he stood facing the gun-yielding policeman. Lester appeared to have about zero percent bodyfat, while the cop, built as he was, looked like he was packing about 40lbs of extra fat over his powerlifting frame. The big cop took a step toward Lester.

"Put your hands on your head, and lay down on your stomach," ordered the cop.

Lester smirked, and slowly raised his hands to the top of his heads. His biceps balled up so much that he had to raise his elbows higher to get his hands to touch his head. Then he went down on his knees, and stopped.

"On your stomach!" ordered the cop, stepping even closer.

In the streetlight, I could see Lester's powerful back muscles twitching like a bull's, his lats jutting out from his raised arms, his etched 'christmas tree' bulging out at his lower back.

"Look who's talking shit, the asshole cop with a gun in his hand," sneered Lester. "Why don't you bring it on hand to hand, pussy."

Redneck street punks like Lester really pissed the cop off. He wanted nothing more than to beat the crap out of Lester right there in that lot. His partner was on the way to the hospital because of Lester's beating. He hesitated long enough that even Lester knew he'd hit a nerve.

"Come on, you fucking pansy, show me what you got. I'll turn you into my little bitch, cause I know you want it," said Lester. Then he spit on the cop's shoe.

That was it. No one spit on his high polish. The cop tossed the gun down, and took off his belt. Then he grabbed the top of his shirt and ripped, the buttons popping off all the way down, and he yanked the shirt off. His shoulders were huge and broad, thick with bulked up muscle mass. He jumped at Lester, who was still on his knees. Lester should have been crushed backward by the thrust of the massive cop, but instead, he barely budged. He clamped his arms around the thick lower torso of the cop, and stood up.

"YEAHHHHH," roared Lester, as he lifted the cop off the ground and ran toward the brick wall at the back of the lot. Lester never even slowed as he approached the wall, and the cop's backside took the brunt of the collision, which busted up the brick pretty badly. Lester lifted him up again, and ran toward the other side of the lot, where the wall was made of concrete. They hit the wall so hard it put a hole clear through it. Lester let go of the cop, who fell inside the rubble.

"Get the fuck UP," Lester yelled into the hole.

The cop crawled out, dazed, but still with some fight in him. He grabbed Lester around his leg and lifted, enough to take Lester off balance. The cop shoved, and Lester fell onto his back with a giant thump. The cop fell on top of him, and put his big hairy forearm across Lester's neck. Then he brought his other hand over his forearm, and leaned into Lester's neck with all his weight and strength.

Lester looked up at the cop and smirked. Lester had trained his neck harder than any other muscle in his body. He loved how its thickness made him look and feel so powerful, so that he could now do neck lifts with a head harness loaded with 350lbs for 50 reps, standing on a bench, and getting hard from looking down at the weight and watching it move up and down so easily. So that now, all the crushing weight of the cop's 22" biceps and 18" forearms couldn't penetrate Lester's steel-muscled neck. The cop began to realize his mistake. It would take five or six cops his size to slow down the jacked up, drug-induced freak muscle of Lester.

Lester grabbed the cop by his neck and by his crotch, then benched the cop into the air. He repped the cop up and down, swelling his already massive pecs. Lester sat up, raising the cop overhead as if he were a sack of potatoes. He stood up from this position, pressing the big cop straight overhead. Lester did squats while holding the big man overhead, showing off his strength and control. His quads swelled to the size of beer kegs. He walked around the vacant lot like a pro wrestler in the ring, his huge glutes rolling with insane size and strength. Lester, a champion in his own mind, flipped the cop down onto his back and straddled him. Lester pinned his shoulders down, and no matter how hard he struggled, the cop couldn't move.

"Tap out, pussy," said Lester, pushing down even harder, and grinding his groin into the powerlifter cop's gut. "Tap out and tell me how you want it...slow and soft, like the pussy you are, or rough and hard, like the bitch I'm gonna turn you into."

Lester's fingers were crushing into the cop's shoulders, but that was nothing next to the panic the cop was beginning to feel. He tried to arch up, but Lester just squeezed him harder with his supercharged keg quads, and crushed him down.

Mr G decided he had seen enough. He stepped into the lot as Lester was about to rip the cop's pants off.

"Party's over, boy," he said to Lester. "Get up."

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