Macho Marine Mash by
The Hit Man
Mike stepped off the troop transport...okay so it was only a commercial flight, but many of his service buddy's were on it as well, so it might just as well have been a troop transport. Mike was home for the holidays and he looked forward to some real R&R, real food, real bed, and real fun with his buds from high school. He only had to stand on the curb a few seconds when the black Camero slid in at the curb, the driver ignoring the officer that was waving him on. Mike threw his duffel in the trunk and slid in the passenger seat. Nat was driving, Max and Perry crammed in the back seat. They all whooped and hollered as Nat burned rubber away from the curb.
Dressed in his civies as they were discouraged from making themselves targets when traveling, Mike couldn't help but compare the way he looked now compared to his buddies as they sped along the coast highway. Max and Perry looked much like they had the whole time he had known them, slightly developed chests but good ab's, sinewy arms, the type that fooled you into thinking there wasn't much there until you got into an arm wrestling match, then the magical orb of muscle would appear, grounding the opposition without mercy. But Nat, well he looked like he had been doing some beefing up while Mike had been gone. His ab's were still the least developed of all of them, but he had put some inches on his biceps. Mike could see them buldging even while Nat simply gripped the steering wheel. Mike slowly brought his right bicep to its full attention, careful to hide what he was doing. He knew he still had outgrown them all, even Nat. He hoped that the evening would give him the chance to prove it.
The car pulled into the underground parking area and Nat pulled in to the
visitor parking space, the same one he had used for the past four years. The
foursome hopped out of the car, Max and Perry grabbing Mike's duffel. He was
pleased to see them struggling with its weight when he had been shouldering
it alone. They entered the penthouse where Nat lived with his dad. "Old
man's out of town for the weekend," Nat announced as he pulled some beers
from the fridge. He tossed one to each of his guests. "So, Mike,"
Nat said as he flopped down in a chair, taking a long slug from his beer.
"Take a look at this." Mike walked up and could see Nat held a picture.
"God damn," Mike exclaimed as he saw himself starring back. It had
been taken his senior year, a scant eight or so months ago. He looked at the
picture and then down at his current body. "I would say you packed on
some muscle, old friend," Nat sneered, already on his second beer. "Give
us a pose then." Max and Perry each had to view the picture as well.
"Yeah, come on, give us a show," they said almost in unison, being
twins. Nat flexed his biceps which Mike couldn't help but notice. He had added
several inches but Mike knew he had him beat. Mike stripped off his shirt,
exposing his powerful upper body that the service had given him.
"Good god, look at you," Max said. "Can I touch?" Without waiting, Max placed a hand on one of Mike's biceps, another on the muscles of his ab's. Mike could feel the warmth of the hands as they stroked his skin. He could feel himself getting a little excited. "Anybody up for a wrestling match," Mike said, the same way he had always avoided these uncomfortable moments with the twins, both of whom he suspected were gay. Max grabbed him in a headlock, twisting Mike down to his side. Max flipped him to the ground where he cranked up the neck hold as he lay across Mike's chest. Many were the times when Max had been able to make him submit, Mike unable to break the choke before having to tap out or faint. Mike worked an arm under Max and heaved him over backwards, slamming his back to the ground. Mike twisted and was suddenly on his knees. Although startled by this turn of events, Max still managed to maintain his headlock. Suddenly Max was up in the air, his arms and legs flailing, the headlock history. While holding him up, Mike flipped Max over, exposing his underbelly to the ground. Dropping to a kneeling position as he lowered Max, he impaled Max's ab's on his knee. Max slid off, curling up in the fetal position, moaning about the pain he was feeling. Perry moved in while Mike was still kneeling. He jumped up, grabbing Mike by the neck and wrapping his legs around Mike's midsection. This had always been his hold of choice, many times making the others submit or end up with a broken rib. Mike could feel Perry's legs tighten around his sides but he knew instantly that the strength that had been able to beat him before was no longer there. Mike stood up, dragging Perry into the air with him. He then wrapped his hands around Perry's arms and ripped their grip away from his neck. Perry now hung at a 90 degree angle off Mike's midsection. Mike doubled his fists together and dropped them as one into Perry's ab's. Because of his position and the flexing of his legs, Perry's ab's were solid. But the second blow did him in, breaking through his defenses. Perry's legs lost their strength and he dropped to the floor on his back. Now trained not to leave the enemy in a position for a second attack, Mike dropped a knee right into Perry's weakened musculature. Like Max, Perry folded into the fetal position as well, his moans matching Max's.
"That was pretty impressive," Nat said snidely," still sitting in the chair, sipping on another beer. "Service has made you a real tough guy, Mike. You must be proud of that." Mike wasn't sure how to answer. "After all, wrestling always was your idea, wasn't it Mike," Nat continued. "Only now it looks like you've added a few moves to your repetoire. Those two saps didn't even have a clue as to what you were capable of now, did they. No siree." Mike noticed that some of Nat's words were already a little slurred. Too many beers. Nat never had been able to hold his liquer very well. "Well, lets see how you do against someone who isn't fooled. Who sees you for what you really are. Look at these baby's." Nat had gotten up from his chair. He stripped off his own shirt and double flexed. Mike was actually impressed although he didn't have a chance to say so. "I saw you eyeing these baby's in the car on the way here. Now you get to experience them first hand." Nat moved toward him and tripped on the ottoman, almost going down. "Maybe we should leave this for another time, Nat," Mike suggested. Nat wobbled a little as he came to a stop a few inches from Mike. "Another time," Nat said as if thinking it over. "I don't think so." Without warning, Nat drove his knee straight into Mike's groin. "Shit," Mike croaked out as he dropped to his knees. Nat drove his knee into Mike's chest, knocking him backwards. Mike was in an ackward position, his legs bent at the knees, his feet pointing up towards his chest. Nat dropped on Mike's lower torso, his legs holding Mike's in place. Nat doubled up his fists. "Now for the real pain," he said, his lips twisted in a sneer. Nat hoisted his own body upward, then using all his weight, he drove his fist into Mike's lower ab's. UMPH. He then drove a left, followed by a right into Mike's sides, just where his ab muscles ended. GARK. Then a blow directly to the sternum. WHOOSH. Mike tried to concentrate, to tighten his ab muscles, but the pain was flowing out from his groin and belly. He hadn't been prepared for Nat's attack and his defenses had been quickly demolished. Nat raised himself up and drove both his knees in deep. GASP. Then Nat made a mistake. He leaned forward to speak to Mike. Mike grabbed him by the shoulders and literally threw Nat off. Mike pushed his legs out of the position they had been locked in. He fought his way through the pain, gaining his knees. Then Nat was back. He stepped in behind Mike and locked him in a choke hold. Mike could feel the hard warmth of Nat's bicep as it pressed against his throat. It felt like he was being choked by a baseball. Mike tried to stand up but Nat kneed him in the kidney, driving him back down. "So, guess your best wasn't good enough tonight, huh soldierboy," Nat taunted from behind. "Now you're seeing what some real muscle can do." Nat tightened down on his choke hold. Mike could feel himself starting to drift. His last thought was that Nat hadn't been nearly as drunk as he had pretended.
Mike didn't know how long he had been out but could feel himself being moved around and he could hear voices, though he was still a little disoriented. "I've still got him under control," a voice said from behind. "Go ahead and punch him." That was Nat's voice. What was Nat doing at his barracks. A fist hit him right below the sternum. UGH. Mike tried to move but found himself held in place by an arm around his throat. He was breathing but barely. "Shit, you hit like a girl," Nat's voice said from behind. Mike opened his eyes to see Max kneeling in front of him, his hand still drawn up into a fist. Putting his body behind it, Max threw a second punch. Only this time, as Mike knew it was coming, Max met with a muscle as hard as steel. He pulled his hand back, shaking it. "Ah, my soldierboy must be awake," Nat said, leaning in close to Mike's ear. "Enjoy your nap, soldierboy? I knew you didn't want to mess with these boys of mine. Got yourself in a real pickle now, I figure, 'cause we all know you ain't strong man on the block." "You know, Nat," Max said, "these muscles out here in front, well they feel like a steel plate. That hurt my hand when I punched him just now." " Aw shit, Max," he's just human like the rest of us. Too many lickens and he won't still be tickin. Put your body behind it this next time." "Can ya stand him up. Maybe that will give me better leverage?" Still maintaining his choke hold, Nat forced Mike to his feet. "There, is that better?" Max drew back and threw his punch. Mike chose that moment to bend at the knees and the waist, hauling Nat up and directly into the path of Max's fist. Max landed the blow directly to Nat's nose, blood spurting everywhere. The hold on Mike's neck loosened. Mike grabbed Nat's arms and pitched him on over his shoulder. Only he held onto the arms so Nat's legs went on over and Nat was splayed on his back. Mike grabbed him by the hair and dragged him up. While holding him by the hair with one hand, Mike moved the other to Nat's throat. Then holding him by the one hand, Mike put all his strength behind a blow that hit Nat so hard in the solar plexus that it lifted his feet off the floor. A second blow followed close behind. The third pounded directly up into the area below Nat's sternum. "It takes more than biceps to make a man strong," Mike said as he landed another blow into the area between Nat's belly button and groin. The area was soft and Mike's fist sank in several inches. Mike pulled his fist back, opening the fingers. He locked onto the same area of muscle with his fingers, punishing the muscle by twisting and pulling it. Nat was making choking noises. Mike let go and drove another fist hard into the same area. He could feel the strength leaving Nat's legs and knew he was only standing because of Mike's hand on his throat. Mike let go of Nat's throat. As Nat began to sink, Mike grabbed him by one of his ab muscles, almost closing his fingers all the way around it. Nat tried to scream but couldn't get enough air past the blood that drained down his throat from Max's earlier punch. Mike heaved Nat's body in the air, using the muscle he held in his hands as if he were doing curls. Nat's head fell back, his arms slack at his side. He didn't feel the last punch Mike punished him with that night. A punch that drove him backwards, slamming him into the wall. Nat sank to the floor. "So, how 'bout you two, you want some more too," Mike asked, wiping Nat's blood off his arm with Nat's t-shirt. "Actually," Max and Perry chimed in together. They looked at each other sheepishly. Max continued. "Actually, we couldn't help but notice you have a hardon." Mike looked down to find himself fully erect. The blood rushed to his face. "No, no, its not a bad thing," Max continued. "We were just wondering if you would take us in the bedroom and treat us like you did Nat. None of that wrestling crap." "You mean you want me to beat the crap out of you like I did him?" Mike could hardly believe what he was hearing. Both boys shook their head yes. "Only harder," they both said at the same time. What the hell, Mike thought to himself, it is a good workout. "Come here," he beckoned both boys. As they stopped in front of him, he ploughed one beefy arm into each of their midsections. They doubled over in pain. He grabbed them in headlocks, one on each side, his powerful biceps cutting off their bloodflow and air, and dragged them into the bedroom.
Mike woke knowing he was no longer alone in the room. And it wasn't the two bodies' he was wedged in between on the bed, those of Max and Perry. A voice off to one side confirmed his suspicions.
"He ain't asleep any longer, cuz," the voice said, "he's just playin' possum, sizing up the situation." Knowing he was caught, Mike opened his eyes. Nat stood by the closet door. Someone Mike didn't know filled the doorway to the bedroom. But he knew what he was. The young man was a Marine Special Forces member; obvious by the markings on the scarf the man wore on his head. Other than fatigue bottoms, that was all the man wore.
"This is my cousin, Andre," Nat said, a bit of sneer in his voice. "I was tell'n him about last night and he insisted on coming over to meet you." Now Mike was awake, a knot beginning to form in his gut.
"Just what did you tell him, Nat?" Mike swung his body over Perry and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes appraising Andre. While Mike could see his own weight advantage, he could also see the striated tendons and veins that covered Andre's arms. His torso was solid, sporting a six-pack under the shelf of his pecs. In addition, Mike knew that even with his training, Andre would be much more familiar with hand to hand combat.
"Why don't you and I step into the living room," Andre suggested, "and I will fill you in on just what my cuz told me."
"You know, I'd love to," Mike said as he hopped up off the bed. "But I have another engagement. Maybe we can make it another time." Mike tried to slip past Andre but a hand with a grip like a vise closed on his bicep. Instinctively, Mike flexed his muscle. His bicep strained against Andre's grip, its hardness filling the hand that cupped it. Mike felt the pain but kept his game face on as the two men starred at each other. Finally Andre broke the impasse.
"Sorry, bro, but I have to be back on base this evening. It has to be now." The grip relaxed. Mike glanced down to see the red marks left by Andre's fingers. "After you, soldier." Mike walked out of the bedroom, aware that Andre pulled the door shut behind him as they walked down the hall.
"So, just what did Nat
" Mike had started to turn around as
he spoke. His words were cut short as a karate kick type blow caught him hard
in the gut. It wasn't so much the pain as the power behind it that Mike felt.
He was driven out of the hallway, crashing up against the opposite wall. The
same wall Nat's body had slumped against the evening before.
Nat began to follow Mike and Andre out of the room and was surprised as the door was pulled shut in his face. He turned around to find Perry out of bed.
"Why'd you go and do something like that, Nat," Perry asked. "Mike's never done anything to you."
"Tain't your business why I did it," Nat answered, puffing his chest out, flexing his arms as he spoke. He had always been a little bigger than the twins and usually just this sort of body language caused them to back down. Sometimes he had to get a little rough before they saw things his way. He was hoping this would be one of those times. After the way Mike had beaten him the night before he was up to some ass whooping.
"Didn't say it was any of my business, just saying I didn't like it," Perry said.
"Well, maybe you'd like this better," Nat said even as he drove
a fist directly into Perry's ab's. But Perry was prepared, his muscles underneath
the skin hardened against the blow. Although the blow rocked Perry's body,
the fist itself didn't penetrate at all. Nat couldn't help but look surprised.
He threw a second fist, drawing the same results.
Suddenly his arms were grabbed from behind. It was Max.
"Let go, Max," Nat hissed. He struggled against the hold but his arms were held tight. And that is when the first blow hit his own gut. And it was a stronger blow than Nat ever would have expected. Suddenly his ab's were being pummeled by Perry. Nat was finding it hard to catch a breath while trying to keep his ab's tight. What had he gotten himself into, he wondered as the blows continued. They were already starting to defeat his ab's, each blow able to burrow its' way a little deeper.
"Andre!" Nat yelled for help. WHOOSH. The next blow drove his air
Almost before Mike could react, Andre was on him, driving fist after fist into his gut. Mike's musculature was holding but he was little able to fend off the blows. A fist flew at his chin. He bobbed and the fist missed, breaking through the plaster beside his head. The fists returned to pounding at his torso. Another blow at his head. Miss and a second hole appeared in the wall. Mike had an idea. WHOMP. A knee caught him hard, driving out some of his air. WHOMP. It hit again. Mike leaned a little to one side, his movement causing Andre to adjust as well. Another fist at his head. Another hole. More blows to the midsection. The blows that were raining down on him didn't lessen or lose power. Another fist at his face. The fist hit the wall, same as the last several blows. Only this one landed against the wall stud, smashing into it full force. Mike smiled at the surprise he saw on Andre's face. Surprise mixed with some pain as well. Mike made his own move.
Driving a knee into Andre's groin, he drove his elbow upward at the same
time, catching Andre under the chin. Andre's body reacted as Mike had hoped,
his head and shoulders driven back, his knees weakened by the blow to the
groin. Mike grabbed Andre by the hair and slammed his head against the wall
stud. A second time. He rammed his own knee into Andre's groin a second time.
Grabbing Andre's hair, Mike drove Andre's head downward, bringing up his own
knee at the same time. WHAM. Still holding Andre's hair, Mike pulled his body
upward and slammed a fist into Andre's ab's. Although muscled, Andre was unable
to defend against the blow. It sank into his muscles, lifting him off his
feet. Mike followed it up with three more blows, each lifting Andre up, driving
him back across the room. Their movement was only stopped when Andre reached
the opposite wall.
Nat was defenseless against the twins, Max and Perry. His breathing was ragged; his knees weak. But every time he started to sink, Max would haul him back up by the arms. To Nat, it felt like his arms were being pulled out of their sockets. Perry alternated between striking with his fists, his knees, his feet, even his head. Nat's musculature was completely destroyed, each blow reaching deep into his muscles, tearing at his internal organs.
Suddenly the hold on his arms was gone. With no one supporting him, Nat began
to sink toward the floor. Thank God, its over, he thought to himself. But
it wasn't. Hands locked under his chin and he felt his body being hoisted
back up. The hands felt odd under his neck. Something was wrong but what was
it. His neck began to bend back. The hands were upside down. Nat realized
he wasn't being lifted up, he was being pulled up. That's when his feet left
the floor. He was being held in a full-fledged guillotine. And that's when
the blows to his midsection resumed. Nat could hardly get any air, his head
feeling light as much from the effort as from the lack of oxygen. Out of desperation,
he lifted his legs higher, trying to wrap them around Perry who was relentlessly
pounding his midsection like a piece of hamburger meat. As his legs came up,
Max drove his fist in hard, right between Nat's legs. Nat screamed.
Mike heard the scream from the bedroom, his attention on Andre averted for
only a moment. All it took for Andre to sweep his legs out from under him.
As Mike went down, his back crashing to the steps of the sunken living room,
his head lower than his legs, Andre was after him. Andre was using some kind
of special kick, his foot flying up, the object to pound his abs. Mike rolled
one way, then the other, not able to avoid every blow, but the majority. Finally
Mike did a backward somersault which took him away from Andre's lethal feet.
But before he could stand, those same feet came flying, catching him hard
in the chest. He was down again but Andre's weight carried him past. Mike
was to his knees when Andre caught him from behind, locking him in a choke
hold. The grip locked instantly, cutting off Mike's air and blood flow. Mike
knew he only had seconds to react or he was dead. Maybe literally. As he was
kneeling on the floor, Andre doing the same just behind, Mike drove his elbow
back, catching Andre hard in the ribs. A second blow. A third. Was it his
imagination or was the hold on his throat a little less tight. Mike reached
up and back, locking both hands tight into Andre's hair. With almost super
human strength, Mike pulled and Andre was airborne, landing on his back on
the coffee table. CRASH. The coffee table shattered, debris flying in every
direction. Mike was up and on Andre in seconds, his weight centered just below
Andre's midsection. Mike began throwing power blow after power blow into Andre's
exposed midsection. Now it was Andre's turn to try and block or avert the
blows but his efforts grew more feeble with each connecting blow. The fight
was over, Andre just didn't know it yet. Mike kept pounding, preventing Andre
from even getting a breath until Andre's head simply flopped to the side.
He was unconscious. Mike got up, grabbed Andre by the groin and neck and heaved
the inert body over his head, bring it to rest upside down on his shoulders.
He headed toward the bedroom.
Max dropped Nat, the scream still fresh in the air. Perry stepped up and kicked Nat in the kidney. "Stop! Please stop," Nat choked out between huge sobs that racked his throat. Perry leaned over and grabbed Nat by the hair, dragging him upward. "No more," Nat begged. Both Perry and Max ignored his pleas for mercy. Perry locked Nat into an ab stretcher, his head held back, his legs held tight. His ab's fully exposed. Now Max's turn, he jumped up in the air and slammed his elbow into Nat's ab's. Nat tried to scream again but Perry simply tightened the grip around his neck, choking off the sound. Again and again, Max slammed his elbow into different parts of Nat's ab's. Finally, having delivered enough pain, Max nodded at Perry who released his hold. Nat slumped to the floor, drawing his knees up to protect his defeated midsection and groin, soft moans escaping his throat. Max and Perry turned as the door opened.
Mike opened the door, unsure of just what he would find. He was more than pleased by what he did find a defeated Nat to match a defeated Andre. Mike plopped his unconscious opponent on the bed. The three victors gave each other high fives in triumph. Mike knelt down in front of Nat. Jerking his head up, Mike starred Nat right in the eye. "Next time, tell the truth." With that, he yanked Nat up, heaved him up over his head and brought him crashing down, abs first, on his knee. WHOOSH. Nat had no air left nor any strength to draw anymore in. His eyes rolled up into his head. He was unconscious as well. Mike picked him up and dumped him on the bed next to Andre. As Mike, Max, and Perry left the bedroom, he couldn't help but see the expectant look on their faces.
"Okay, we'll have some more fun ourselves," he said, "but
first let's get something to eat. I've worked up quite an appetite."
They shared high fives again as they headed out the front door.