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Jerry loved gymnastics. It had been a part of his life for several years, beginning when he was 9 and now that he was 16, continued as a lifelong ambition. As a result of the exercises combined with his workouts, he had developed a body that made both the boys and the girls weep.

For a long time, Slim, who lived down the street, had been a close friend. He also had a passion in life, figure skating. But as of late, Jerry noticed that Slim didn't want to spend as much time with him. He had started to become sarcastic about the amount of time Jerry spent in working out or practicing his routines for competition. If Jerry didn't know better, he would think Slim was becoming jealous. Truth be told, Jerry just didn't know what to do.
It was a Friday night, warm and yet a nice breeze blew. Jerry was out in the garage, dressed only in workout shorts. The breeze cooled him by evaporating the sweat as he went through his routine. Suddenly Jerry sensed that he was not alone. Pushing the bench press bar back up into its holder above his head, he sat up. Slim was standing in the door of the garage.
Now Slim wasn't exactly the direct opposite physically of Jerry, but neither was he as muscular. He stood several inches taller but they weighed about the same. Slim had a cigarette hanging from his lower lip. This was the first time Jerry had seen him doing that.
"When did you start that?" Jerry asked as he got up off the bench, picked up his towel and draped it over his shoulders.
"Harping at me again, huh," Slim said, the cigarette moving up and down as he spoke.
"I'm not harping. I just care about what you do to your body, Slim," Jerry replied. Frankly he was getting a little tired of the attitude Slim had begun to develop. Slim walked over to the dumb bells and picked up a 5 pounder. He began pressing it up and down, starring at his own bicep as the weight demanded it expand and contract. Jerry was actually impressed by the hard tight ball that appeared on Slim's upper arm each time his bicep contracted as he brought the weight up. The demand on the muscle was causing it to bulge larger and harder. A small vein was even starting to show. Slim had already pressed the weight 20 times. Suddenly the weight stopped.
"You look surprised, asshole," Slim said. Jerry blushed a little, caught starring at his friends bicep. He averted his eyes, bending down and picking up a 5 pounder himself.
"You just have never shown an interest in weights, that's all," Jerry said, hearing the defensive tone in his own voice too late to change it. He began to press his own weight.
"And you've never taken the time to ask if I was either," Slim practically spat out his retort. He switched the weight to his left hand and began pumping it.
"Listen, Slim, it's not that I haven't…" Jerry's thought was cut off by the clanking sound of Slim's weight being dropped on the cement floor of the garage. "Hey, have a little respect," Jerry's voice bristled.
"You don't," Slim spit back. He moved into the garage, cutting the space between the two boys in half. Jerry noticed that Slim's hands had tightened into fists, the knotted muscles of his forearms hard and striated.
"I'm not looking for trouble, Slim," Jerry said, forcibly bringing his voice down into a more civil tone. Slim cut the distance between them in half once again. Now Jerry had to look up to meet his eye.
"Well, I am." Slim's fist came up quick and hard, connecting with Jerry's ab's. THUD. Sensing trouble, Jerry was not caught off guard, his ab's steeled against the attack. The blow had no effect. A second blow was as easily deflected by Jerry's muscular development.
"I'm not going to fight you," Jerry said, finding it hard to talk and keep his ab's hardened as a third blow connected. A fourth. His stack of bricks was holding fine but he was starting to get a perturbed.
"Up to you, Jerry," Slim said as he changed tactics, aware that none of his blows had even begun to dent Jerry's solid wall. He delivered a right uppercut to Jerry's jaw. Jerry hadn't seen it coming and the blow rocked his head backward. A left caught him in the mouth, splitting his lip. Jerry tasted the acrid copper taste of his own blood. "You can fight me or not. Either way, I'm gonna beat the crap out you." Slim threw another fist at Jerry's head. At least these blows were having an effect. Jerry weaved and the fist caught nothing but air. Slim's next several attempts to hit Jerry were all misses as Jerry bobbed and weaved, easily avoiding Slim's barrage.
"Don't do this, Slim. Can't we sit down and talk it through?"
"Too late for that," Slim replied, as he connected another blow to Jerry's solar plexus. WHOMP. Jerry felt this one some. It was obvious Slim was putting more behind the blows than he had at first.
"I don't want to do this, Slim," Jerry said, hoping to get through to his friend. THUD. Another blow caught Jerry hard just under his left pec. Having had enough, Jerry finally clenched his own hands into fists.
"Like I said, it doesn't…" WHOMPH. Slim's words were cut off as Jerry slammed his fist into Slim's breadbasket. Direct, well-aimed, and powerful. It easily penetrated Slim's muscle defenses like a hot knife cutting through butter. Air, cigarette, and spittle all blasted from Slim's mouth at the same time. His eyes bulged and his mouth opened and closed, looking a lot like a fish out of water. Then Jerry delivered the coup-de-grace, a second blow that carried all of his strength and weight behind it. Directed exactly at the very same spot. WHOMPH. The sound seemed to echo throughout the garage. If it had been a cartoon, it probably would have shown Jerry's fist stretching the skin out of Slim's back. But it wasn't a cartoon. It was real life. And Jerry watched with sad eyes as Slim sank to his knees. The fight was over almost before it even began.
"Are we done now," Jerry asked, trying to control the anger that brimmed at the edge of his voice? Slim struggled to raise his hand. Once up, he threw Jerry the finger. Jerry grabbed Slim on both sides of his head. He pulled Slim toward him at the same time he threw his knee up. Jaw and knee connected. CRACK. Slim's head jerked back hard. His body followed the natural course of his head, collapsing unconscious on the garage cement floor.




Slim woke up with a start, totally disoriented. It was morning and he was laying on the front porch swing on his own front porch. How had he gotten here? What was the last thing he remembered? He touched his jaw while thinking. "Ouch," he said out loud. His jaw was sore. Swinging his legs down, he sat up. "God," he said as his ab's protested the simple exercise, "what's wrong with me?" He looked down at his bare torso, touching his ab's gently. Then it all came flooding back to him. JERRY. Jerry had done this to him.
Slim got up and went inside. He glanced at the clock. It was early but he didn't care. He picked up the phone and dialed Jerry's number. Two rings and a voice answered. It was Jerry's Mom. She informed him that Jerry had left early that morning for a couple of days at their beach house in Dana Point. A plan was already formulating as Slim hung up. The first part of his plan, he would need help. And he had just the help in mind.
Two streets over and one up, Slim approached a house set back from the street. He started up the steps when he heard noise coming from around the side. He changed direction and came around the side of the house. There in a makeshift boxing/wrestling ring were Brian and Wilson, the help he hoped to enlist. The two were brothers who looked so alike that though they were a year apart could have been twins. Both were on the wrestling squad at school and had also qualified as 'Golden Glove" contenders. They would be perfect. And he knew they held a grudge against Jerry for a previous transgression (but that is a different story). They were currently engaged in a boxing match. As Slim watched, it was hard to tell who was causing the most damage. He stood by unobserved for several minutes just watching. Finally, he stepped up to the rope. "Brian. Wilson. You fella's got a minute?"

The plan he outlined to Brian and Wilson was so simple, it was beautiful. Both readily agreed to help. Much sooner than he could have hoped, Slim was on his way back home to see if he could borrow his Mom's car to go down and spend a couple of day's with Jerry at his beach house. Slim's mother knew nothing of the altercation between Slim and Jerry so she readily agreed. She wouldn't be needing it.
Slim threw a few things in a sport bag just to keep his mother off the track of anything wrong, gave her a hug, took the keys from the wall mount in the kitchen and was on his way to pick up Brian and Wilson. They were waiting at the curb.

Jerry walked along the promenade at the beach, his thoughts still focusing on the episode with Slim the night before. Jerry had slung Slim's unconscious body over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and took him home, laying him out on the front porch swing. He had risen early in the morning, checked with his folks about using the beach house for a couple of days and had taken off almost before the sun rose. Now as he walked, the sun was helping to bake his troubles away. Suddenly a voice broke his reverie. "Excuse me," the voice said from behind.
Jerry stopped and turned. There was a group of 5 girls, obviously some years younger than him. "Sorry for bothering you but we couldn't help noticing your physique. Would you mind if we snapped a few pictures." Jerry could feel his face blushing. He knew he had a fine physique but he wasn't used to people stopping him on the street to comment about it. "Sure, I don't suppose it will hurt."

Jerry struck various poses for the girls. Each time, they would break into giggles and then snap the shot. He even agreed to take a shot with each of the girls, one at a time. By the time they were finished, it was approaching lunch time so he decided to head back to the beach house for some refreshment. He then planned to hit the weights for a couple of hours. The girls waved goodbye as he walked away. Each time he turned to look back, they were still standing there and would wave. Finally he was out of view.
None of them had noticed the station wagon that had driven by twice. Nor did Jerry notice it parked on the street in front of the beach house. Swinging the gate open, he stepped into the side yard. Sliding the large glass door open, he stepped into the relative darkness of the house. It was quite a difference from the sun outside and he was temporarily blinded. Taking off his sunglasses only helped a little. He turned toward the kitchen.
"Hello, Jerry," a male voice said from behind. At the unexpected voice, Jerry spun around, his fists drawn up in defense, but surprise was what Slim had counted on. A fist smashed hard against Jerry's chin. SMACK. His head spun to the side. His eyes saw stars. Another caught him hard in the solar plexus, knocking his breath out. WHOOSH. His arms were grabbed roughly from both sides. A shadow moved in close to his face. He shook his head, trying the clear the gathering cobwebs. "Slim?"
"Yep," Slim answered just before driving his knee into Jerry's groin. The arms that had held him let go and Jerry collapsed to the floor, drawing himself into a fetal position. A foot pounded against his kidney, causing him to stretch back out. A hand grabbed him by the hair and hoisted him to a sitting position. An arm closed around his throat, a hard muscle instantly cutting off his air and blood supply. Jerry tried to pry it loose but couldn't. Wiggle. Squiggle. Nothing helped. As the darkness encroached, Jerry thought a voice from behind said, "nighty night."

Jerry woke to find he couldn't see. Before panic set in, he realized some kind of cloth covered his eyes. A simple blindfold he told himself. He pushed himself to a sitting position. "Oh good, you're awake," a voice said from behind. Jerry jerked his head around at the noise. "Here, let me help you up." A hand closed on his arm. His own hand closed on the arm. Jerry could tell from the muscles it was a powerful arm. Not seeming to have been offered a choice, Jerry reached his feet. He started to reach for the blindfold. A hand grabbed his. "Don't touch it." A simple order. "And if I do," Jerry asked? A fist ploughed into his gut. UGH. Being totally unprepared, the blow drove air out. "You could have just told me," Jerry said huskily. "Where's the fun in that," the voice answered. Another fist pounded into his side but Jerry was a little more prepared, his ab's at the ready. The blow was deflected. "At least take this blind fold off and let me defend myself," Jerry said, his voice a mixture of anger and fear. "Fine," the voice said, "not that it will make any difference."
His arms were grabbed again. Jerry tried to struggle loose but it was no use. Each arm was locked up in a side bar, the pressure bending the arm the wrong way at the elbow. The blindfold was torn off. Jerry blinked his eyes to adjust. There in front of him stood Slim. He wore weightlifting gloves. Jerry glanced to one side, then the other. He recognized his captors immediately. Brian and Wilson. "Oh shit," escaped from Jerry's lips. Slim smiled. "Payback is hell." A fist slammed into Jerry's ab's. It had little or no effect. An uppercut hit the space between his groin and belly button. Jerry felt it but it was just a surface blow, no entry into his musculature at all. Now it was Jerry's turn to smile. "Just like last night, huh, Slim?" Suddenly, knees caught him hard on both sides, lifting Jerry off his feet. He gasped. Slim slammed another fist, hitting Jerry directly in the sternum. Fists caught Jerry in the kidney's driving him arch back, exposing his ab's. Slim jumped up and drove an elbow directly into Jerry's lower ab's. OOF. Jerry was losing control of his ab's. Slim hit Jerry's chin with a stiff upper cut. Jerry's head snapped back. A hand grabbed his hair, preventing him from raising his head back up. An arm snaked around his throat from the front. Jerry felt a leg twist in between his own and locking on his ankle. Suddenly, his body was forced to arch backwards. Fists began to pummel his exposed ab's. Knees, elbows, even a head butt. Jerry was attempting to keep his ab's flexed but it got harder and harder, especially with his throat partially choked off, limiting his breathing.
Jerry had no idea how long the beating had gone on. Every inch of his upper torso ached. The blows penetrated to various levels but each one now caused pain. Jerry could no longer tell who threw which blow. Nor did he care. He just wanted it to end. The arm around his neck let go as did the one holding his leg. Jerry was standing on his own, though he was far from steady. Hands grabbed at his ab's, each locking on the same row of muscle. The fingers tightened and jointly, hoisted Jerry into the air. He screamed. While held in the air, the hands shook him up and down. Jerry thought they were going to rip his muscle right out of his body. The pain was so intense Jerry could feel himself losing consciousness. He felt his body falling backwards but could do nothing to stop himself. He slammed to the floor. What breath he had left was driven out. Cold water hit him in the face. His eyes popped open. His eyes locked on those of Slim. Slim jumped in the air and landed directly on Jerry's worthless ab's. Jerry wanted to scream again but couldn't. His eyes glazed. He didn't even feel the next 3 to 4 jumps Slim made on his ab's after he was unconscious. Brian and Wilson had to drag Slim off, encouraging him to save some for later.




Jerry came too after a few moments to find himself being dragged out onto the sand across the promenade from the beach house. His weight was supported but his feet were simply being dragged through the sand. Slim walked in front, so Jerry assumed it was Brian and Wilson who were manhandling him. When Slim finally stopped, Jerry was allowed to drop into the sand. Slim had walked them far enough out that the slope of the beach hid them from the Promenade. And there didn't appear to be anyone on the beach. Only the 4 of them.
"Pick him up," Slim ordered. Like 2 obedient puppies, Brian and Wilson hoisted Jerry up. Slim slammed a fist into Jerry's gut. Still tender, Jerry could do little to stop the blow. It touched against his internal organs. Another fist to the left had the same effect. It was all Jerry could do to suck in another breath, let alone control his ab's. Slim reached out with both hands and grabbed Jerry's exposed muscle. He twisted his hands in opposite directions, Jerry thought he might faint, which he wasn't seeing as such a bad option at this point. Slim noticed his eyes starting to roll up into his head. "Oh no, friend," Slim said, picking up a pail of cold water and throwing it in Jerry's face. It caused his eyes to pop open immediately. "That's better," Slim said. "Either of you care for a go," Slim said, addressing Brian and Wilson. "I don't want to hog all the fun for myself."
Brian left go of his arm and stepped forward. No longer balanced, Jerry fell over into the sand. "Use a full nelson," Brian said. Wilson leaned over, locked his powerful arms behind Jerry's neck and hauled him back up. Against Jerry's meager resistance, he pressured Jerry's head down until his chin touched his chest. Brian took a boxers stance and began to pummel Jerry's abs with lightening speed. Slim couldn't even keep up the count. Brian was using Jerry as his own personal punching bag. It wasn't that the blows were so hard, there were just so many.
"What are you fella's doing," a female voice asked from the top of the sandy slope. All eyes except Jerry's turned toward the voice. Jerry's chin was still being pressed against his chest. Suddenly there were half a dozen girls. Brian must have figured they were harmless because he simply began to pommel Jerry once again.
"Isn't that the boy we took pictures with this afternoon," another voice asked. "Why I think it is," another answered. "You boys leave him alone," another chimed in. "We're going to tell the lifeguard." It seemed all their voices chimed in together on this proclamation.
"Feel free," Slim shouted at them. He shoved Brian out of the way and began blasting his fist into Jerry's worthless torso himself, as if he was goading the girls into action. He glanced up to find them all still standing there. "What does that feel like," one of them ventured. "Can I try?" She was already on her way down before Slim could tell her where to take herself. Slim looked her over, not in a sexual way, but in an appraising way, her musculature and all. She walked right up to Jerry, balled her fist, and slammed it into his gut.
"Put your body weight behind it," Brian offered. "That's a lot stronger punch than just your arm. Like this." Brian stepped up and blasted his fist into Jerry's lower ab's. His fist sank a good 3-4 inches into Jerry's gut. "See how I used my shoulder and body to put weight behind my punch?" The girl seemed to learn fast. Her next blow sank at least an inch in. Soon all the girls were trying to see who could make their fist go in the furthest. Wilson continued to hold Jerry in the full nelson. Everyone else continued to pummel Jerry's absolutely worthless muscles. The girls even took more pictures of each other as they beat on him.
Jerry wasn't unconscious but the pain had long ago passed from meaning anything to struggling with simple survival. As long as he still felt something, even pain, it meant he was alive. Jerry's torso was one huge sore spot. Finally, as the sun prepared to set, the girls took their leave. "Let's go get something to eat," Wilson said. Jerry was dragged back across the sand and into the beach house. They dragged him down to the workout room once again, using duct tape to tie his wrists and feet to the weight bench. Just as they prepared to leave, Slim turned back. Jumping in the air, he brought his elbow down straight into Jerry's sternum. WHOOSH. Any air Jerry had left was driven out. Brian walked over, stood directly over Jerry's gut and drove his hand straight down, the weight of his body driving the fist a good 6-8 inches in, shoving Jerry's internal organs out of the way. Then Wilson came over. As if angry that all he had done all afternoon was hold Jerry in a full nelson, Wilson climbed up on the bench, balancing himself above Jerry. He then gave a jump, bent his knees, and landed square in Jerry's gut. Although he hadn't eaten a thing all day, Jerry puked. Slim, Brian and Wilson left him in that condition as they went to eat.




After his tormentors left to eat, Jerry had lain in the dark quiet, unsure of exactly how long, when he heard a noise from upstairs. The first thought he had was that his tormentors had returned. He strained against his bonds but they held as successfully this time as they had the entire time he had laid there. He lay still, wanting to make sure he would hear the sound again but it did not repeat. What were they waiting for, he thought to himself. His entire torso was bruised and sore from the repeated beatings he had suffered. He knew that there was nothing he could do to stop them. Anymore than the fact that his musculature would not recover sufficiently quick enough to cushion their blows. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, his mind accepting the situation.
"Is someone in here," a voice whispered in the darkness. Despite himself, Jerry nearly leapt out of his skin. Uncertainty clouded his mind. Was he just being played with by one of his tormentors. But his steel resolve and self discipline won out. "Yes," he answered in a like whisper. "I am tied to a bench." A small flashlight lit in the darkness. Its light cast against the wall much lower than where he actually lay.
"Over here," he whispered. The light adjusted, finding his face and though its beam was small, it still pained his eyes.
"Are you Jerry," the voice asked from behind the beam? "Yes," Jerry replied. "How did you know I was here?" "Someone called 911, an anonymous caller. It was a girls voice." Jerry smiled to himself. So, one of his tormentors had actually felt guilty. A hand touched his arm. Despite himself, Jerry tensed, pulling away. "Relax," the voice whispered, "I'm just going to cut you lose." Then all hell broke loose.

The call had come in to the lifeguard station house just before closing. A moment more and no one would have answered the phone. The beaches were now closed, the life guards off duty. The call had sounded farfetched, something about a local boy being beaten by a small gang. The voice gave an address and then hung up. Gilly, one of the more senior people left in the building, volunteered to go check it out on his way home.

The beach house at the address given was dark. However, Gilly found the front door unlocked. Nothing unusual about that in these parts, Gilly thought to himself. He searched through the upper level first and found nothing. Then he saw the door in the kitchen. It squeaked as he opened it. Gilly stood still for a few moments but if there was someone downstairs, they didn't respond to the noise the door made. Gilly worked his way down the dark stairs, afraid to use his flashlight for fear of giving up his element of surprise.
As he stood at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of how to proceed, he heard a sound. He couldn't be sure, but it had sounded like a sign. Taking a chance, he whispered out to see if anyone was there. His skin was crawling as he waited to see if someone would answer. Despite his calm self-assurance, when an answer did come, Gilly almost wet himself. He turned on his penlight but it only lit a blank wall. The voice spoke again and he adjusted his direction. He sighted a rather well-built boy tied to a workout bench. Gilly stepped up to the bench, knife in hand to cut the tape. He wasn't prepared for what happened next.

Slim, Brian, and Wilson sat in the car with Jessica, the first girl from the beach who had punched Jerry. The three boys had cooked up a plan to get some fresh action in on their weekend slugfest. Jessica had readily agreed, contingent on the fact that she would be allowed to accompany them, no matter what happened. All 3 had readily agreed. Jessica called the lifeguard station from a pay phone rather than using anyone's cell. After the call was placed, they waited to make sure someone would go. When they saw someone come out and get in the jeep owned by the lifeguard station, they rushed back to the beach house ahead of him.
The quartet rushed into the beach house and slipped on the special devices Slim had borrowed from his father's National Guard supplies. They were night vision goggles. With seconds to spare before the lifeguard arrived, Slim cut the electric at the breaker box to prevent the lights from being turned on. They all hid and waited.
Once the lifeguard was in the house, they waited until he started down the stairs in the kitchen before they advanced. As quiet as possible, they followed him down into the lightless workout space. They had covered all the places where light might sneak in with trash bags and tape. The room was absolutely dark.
When he turned on his flashlight, it inhibited their ability to see through the goggles. Brian grabbed broom from the corner and slipped forward. His first job was to extinguish the light. Just as the lifeguard put the light in his mouth so his hands would be free, a stick flashed by the eyes and hit the flashlight, knocking it to the floor. Gilly reached out for it when he heard a crunching sound and the light went out.

Gilly still had a hand on Jerry, a hand that still contained a knife. But he hadn't actually been able to cut any of the tape loose. And now it was obvious someone else was in the room with them. With only a reassuring tap on the arm for Jerry, Gilly slowly stood up, his knife still in his hand. Something brushed him on his left side. He swung the knife in that direction but it was too late. Then the other side. Gilly could see nothing. "Psst," a voice sounded to one side. Gilly swung in that direction. Something roung and rough hit his wrist, knocking the knife out of his grasp. He heard it clatter to the floor. In spite of his training and normally calm cool demeanor, Gilly could feel panic just below the surface. Two hands pushed against his chest. Gilly took a step back only to realize something was behind him but it was too late. He landed flat on his back.

The lifeguard now unarmed, Brian moved in behind his legs on his hands and knees. As soon as he was in position, Wilson moved forward, pushing the lifeguard on the chest with both hands. As expected, he tried to take a step backward, tripping over Brian and landing on his back. Brian and Wilson followed the plan exactly, one grabbing each of the lifeguards arms. They each put the arm between their own legs, their feet against the lifeguards torso and pulled him taut. Slim came up and landed a solid football punt right between the lifeguards legs. The lifeguard screamed at the pain but was helpless to do anything else. "Hook 'em up boys," Slim said. "Time for a little more fun."

From his vantage point, lying prone on the workout bench, Jerry couldn't see what was happening. He heard a crunching noise and the small flashlight the lifeguard had been using went out. The room was once again bathed in solid blackness. Jerry heard a kind of scuffle, the noise of someone falling. And then, the scream. Then he heard Slim's voice. Jerry definitely didn't like what he heard - it equated to more pain. He just wasn't sure for whom. The overhead lights in the room came on. Jerry had to close his eyes against its burning glare. After a couple of minutes he opened them and was okay. He turned his head and saw Slim, Brian, and Wilson doing something with Gilly. It looked like they were tying him up or something. Jerry decided to keep his mouth shut for the moment.

After punting the lifeguard's balls into next week, Slim walked over and turned on the overhead lights. He then gave instructions to Brian and Wilson. They released the arm stretches they had held the man with and dragged him across the room. Although he was conscious, he was not capable of doing anything to stop them. They rolled a weight bar to a position above his head. It looked like it bore about 300 pounds in weights. Once set, they spread his arm wide and taped his wrists to the bar at each end. Lacking another bar, they taped dumbbells to his ankles, about 50 pound worth on each. The lifeguard was not going anywhere fast.
Slim walked over and stepped over the lifeguard, a foot on each side. "What's your name," he asked? The lifeguard simply starred at him. "Have it your way." Slim dropped to his knees directly into the lifeguard's solar plexus. OOMPH. Slim stood back up. "What's your name?" he asked a second time. Still no answer. This time Slim jumped up in the air, landing with both feet a little higher up on the lifeguards ab's. Only this time, the lifeguard was ready and Slim found himself landing on ab's like steel plate.
"Now that's what I like," Slim said, "A man who can stand a little pain." He turned to Jerry for the first time. "Not like you, wuss." Slim stepped down.

Jerry felt bad for Gilly but there was little he could do to help. He cringed himself, when Slim landed with his knees for he had experienced that same treatment on hours before. But when Slim jumped up, Jerry was amazed that Gilly was able to steel himself and keep Slim's weight from even making a dent. Then Slim had turned the attention back to Jerry. Now Jerry's blood ran cold.

"Bring me one of those 10 pound dumbbells," Slim said to Brian and Wilson. Wilson picked one up and carried it over, doing reps with it while he walked. "Nice bi," Slim said, reaching out and squeezing the bulging muscle. Wilson smiled at him. Slim took the weight, walked past the lifeguard, stopping at Jerry's side. Slim held the weight at waist height and dropped it directly onto Jerry's already demolished ab's. GAWK. Jerry's body tried to tighten into the fetal position, only his bonds preventing it. Slim picked up the weight and raised it to shoulder height. He looked back at the lifeguard. "Gilly. My name is Gilly," the lifeguard said. "Now leave the boy alone." "I don't think you're in any position to be giving orders," Slim said and dropped the weight once more. Jerry did what he could to tighten his ab's but he knew this time the weight would probably cause serious damage to his body. The weight dropped right past him and clattered to the floor. The 3 guys starting laughing. Then Jessica stepped into the room from the stairwell where she had been standing.

Jessica took command of the situation almost immediately. She had the 3 boys start marching around Gilly, stepping on his ab's in turn as they walked in a circle. It was quickly obvious that this was nothing to Gilly, who kept his ab's steel plate intact through this futile exercise. Jessica seemed none the happier to see this. " Get me a jump rope," she demanded. Slim had spent many weekend retreats at the beach house so he knew right where one was. Jessica took it in her hands, stepped up on Gilly's abdomen and started jumping rope. She wasn't too heavy herself, but the constant jumping was another matter. Gilly held out for the 10 minutes or so that she jumped but he could feel his ab's starting to weaken.

Slim walked over and picked up a couple of the 10 pound dumbbells and walked over to Gilly. With the weights in his hands, he began to step up and back down on Gilly's ab's, kind of like a stair climber. Up with one foot, then back down. Up with the other foot, then back down. Gilly was starting to breath a bit harder, trying to keep constant tension on his ab's. Slim stepped down the last time. He started to turn away, thought better of it and dropped both weights directly onto Gilly's lower ab's. WHOOSH. This had been more than Gilly could withstand and the air was driven out of his lungs. GASP. "Brian and Wilson, your turn," Slim said as he walked over to Jerry.

Brian and Wilson knelt on opposite sides of Gilly. Brian faced Gilly's feet. Wilson faced his head. Each doubled up their right hand into a fist. With an innate sense, they began punching Gilly, setting a fairly fast rhythm. WHAM. WHAM. WHAM. WHAM. Gilly couldn't get his breath. The fists were doing damage. After the weights had been dropped on him, Gilly wasn't sure how much more he could take. Plus he could feel him self starting to lose consciousness from the lack of oxygen. The pounding continued several minutes after Gilly no longer felt it.

Slim smiled down at Jerry. "You know this is all your fault, right," Slim asked? Jerry must have looked puzzled. Slim dropped a fist into Jerry's lower ab's. GAWK. "This is because of what you did to me the other night. You do remember that, don't you?" Jerry knew to shake his head yes. "That's better," Slim said. Then he blasted a fist directly into Jerry's groin. Jerry couldn't even find the strength to cry out any longer. Slim swung a foot over Jerry's chest, straddling him, his back to Jerry's face. Without another word, Slim beat Jerry's ab's until Jerry joined Gilly in the land of the unconscious.




Zephyr loved the pre-dawn air, cool and crisp as it flowed around his body in the topless jeep. Loving the early morning, he always drew the early morning post at the lifeguard station, keeping an eye on the early-bird joggers and surfers. As he headed toward headquarters, the sun beginning to show over the horizon, he noticed something out of the ordinary. Now why would a guard vehicle be parked at a private residence this early in the morning, he thought to himself. He knew that all the vehicles, except the unit Captain were always locked away in the garage at the end of hours. But Zephyr knew the vehicle in the driveway wasn't the captain's. So, he figured there must be trouble. Pulling his jeep to the curb past the house he saw the vehicle at, he called in to headquarters to report his delay.

Jerry and Gilly had been left just as they were for the rest of the night. Though the room stank to high heaven, they were both glad to have a break in the abuse. Though they slept fitfully, at least they slept. Each began to dream of a tapping sound. Tap. Tap. Quiet. Tap. Tap. Quiet. At some point, they each realized they weren't actually asleep any longer and the sound was coming from the large window near the stairs. Twisting in their bounds, Gilly broke into a huge smile as he recognized one of his co-workers, another lifeguard named Zephyr.

"I think we're finally in luck," he whispered to Jerry. They watched as Zephyr worked at opening the window.

Using his knife blade, Zephyr worked at the window lock until it finally popped open, allowing him to push the window inward. Silently, he lowered himself into the still dim room. The odor was obnoxious. He pulled his black tee up over his mouth and nose.

"Smells like something died in here," he whispered as he bent over to cut Gilly's tethering.

"Something almost did. Us," Gilly replied as he sat up, massaging his wrists and ankles. Zephyr moved over to Jerry and cut his bounds as well.

"Let's get out of here," Zephyr said, heading back toward the open window.

"In a minute," Gilly replied as he looked over at Jerry. "We still have some business to finish here." Gilly and Jerry high-fived each other and headed up the staircase. Zephyr followed.

The trio traipsed up the stairs as quiet as possible. After all, the sun was already up and they had no way to know what would be going on behind the closed door ahead. Jerry pushed ahead as he was most familiar with the beach house. As he stood at the door, his pulse beating rapidly, he leaned his ear against the wood, listening to see if there was any activity on the other side. Unable to detect anything, he slowly twisted the knob until it released its grip. He pushed the door open.

The upper level of the beach house was quiet except for the sounds of sleep from various sections. XXX leaned in close to Gilly and Zephyr.

"You two round up Brian and Wilson. I'm going after Slim. The girl is probably still here as well but she shouldn't be much trouble." The other two shook their head in acknowledgement of the plan.

"Let's do this then." Jerry headed off toward the master bedroom, the other two down a hall containing the guestrooms.

Gilly and Zephyr located their prey in the first bedroom they checked. Brian and Wilson lay together in one large bed that was two twin beds pushed together, their extremities wrapped around each other.

"Now that just isn't natural," Zephyr whispered. Gilly raised a finger to his lips indicating the need to silence. The two lifeguards moved to either side of the bed. Suddenly Brian who was on Gilly's side of the bed opened his eyes.

"SHIT," he yelled out, waking Wilson. Even as Gilly dove for him, Brian raised a foot and planted it directly into Gilly's already punished midsection. WHOOF. Gilly went down on one knee. Brian grabbed Gilly's head in a figure 4 and twisted, both their body's crashing to the floor.

Wilson wasn't having as much luck with Zephyr who hadn't spent the past day being beaten up. Zephyr grabbed Wilson under the chin with both hands, hoisted him from the bed and smashed him against the wall. Following up, he pinned Wilson to the wall with one hand while pummeling his ab's with the other.

Gilly was struggling, trying to dislodge the legs locked around his head. Seeing an opening, he drove his fist directly into Brian's groin. ARGH. The legs loosened. Gilly didn't give any quarter for Brian to recover, hitting him in the groin a second time. Brian doubled up as much from the pain as to protect himself. Gilly pounded a fist into Brian's kidney, the blow forcing Brian to stretch back out. Gilly shoved Brian flat against the floor with a knee to his chest, then dropped his full weight on his ab's with an elbow. WHOMP. GASP. Gilly then straddled Brian's legs, throwing punch after punch into his ab's. Brian would have been screaming but he couldn't seem to catch enough breath. The fight was soon over, both Brian and Wilson lying on the floor moaning, hugged in tight in a fetal position.

Jerry moved as quiet as possible to the master bedroom. It wasn't too hard, as he knew where every squeaky board was. Regardless, he wanted to catch Slim by surprise. The bedroom door was open a crack and Jerry gave it a small shove, opening it just far enough to see into the room. Slim was sound asleep, his tall frame spread out over the bed. Jerry opened the door the rest of the way and tiptoed up to the bed. Jerry was conflicted in his feelings about what to do. After all, Slim had been his friend for quite awhile. He was sure there was an explanation for what had just occurred. Unconsciously, he rubbed his sore abdomen, and suddenly, he didn't care what the reason, he only wanted revenge. In a move purely wrought from his gymnastics, Jerry performed a flawless forward somersault, his body coming to rest right where he wanted it to, smack dab on top of Slim. GRUNT, as Jerry's weight landed right on his unprotected ab's. Slim's eyes were open now. But he was held tight to the bed, unable to move as Jerry locked his wrists, his weight holding Slim down. Slim could see the undeniable look of hatred in Jerry's eyes. He gulped loudly. Somehow he knew that all hell was about to break loose.

Without another word, JerryX thrust his feet skyward into a handstand, his own hands still locked on Slim's wrists. He came down, driving his knees into Slim's mid-section. GAWK. Up Jerry went again. Slim tried to divert the blow with his own legs but all he managed to do was redirect Jerry's falling knee right into his own groin. GASP. Jerry released his wrists and stood up, straddling Slim's body. He came down, driving his fist with his weight into the area just below Slim's sternum. WHOOSH. The air blew out of Slim's lungs. SLAM. Jerry had jumped in the air and landed with both feet on Slim's now useless ab's. Jerry began to run in place on Slim's midsection. WHAP. WHAP. WHAP. WHAP. Jerry jumped backwards, his feet separating to either side of Slim's legs, landing on the mattress. Then with a high jump and bend, Jerry came down headfirst, driving his skull in the soft area between Slim's groin and belly button. WHOOMP. Within seconds, Jerry was back on Slim's chest. He starred into Slim's eyes. Grabbing a head full of hair, he pulled Slim up.

"Consider us even," Jerry hissed. Then his fist exploded against Slim's jaw, driving his head hard to the side. Slim landed back on the pillows, his eyes rolled up into his head, dead to the world. Jerry got off his former friends inert body and headed down the hall to see how the other two had fared. As he walked into the bedroom, his face lit up with pure joy.

"Wonder how Jerry is doing," Zephyr asked. "Maybe we better go look for him." Just at that point, Jerry entered the room. As he looked around, his face lit up like a light bulb.

"Looks like we did 'em all in, huh!" he said.

"Did you find Slim," Gilly asked?

"Oh yeah," JerryX replied, his grin even larger. Suddenly the closet door burst open, scaring them all. It was Jessica.

"Oh, thank God, its' you guys," Jessica sobbed, her voice obviously just under control. She moved up, clasping her hands around Jerry' arm.

"Those animals raped me last night. I thought they were going to kill me." She now burst into sobs that wracked her body. JerryX gently removed her hand and turned so the two faced each other. He lifted her head with a finger placed lightly under her chin. Her sobs immediately began to subside as their eyes met.

"You know, I never thought I would ever do something like this…" Without another word, he slammed a fist into her gut. WHOOMP. Jessica hit the floor, retching.

"Let's clean this mess up," Gilly said, stepping over Jessica as he left the room.

Slim woke up with a start, totally disoriented. It was morning and he was laying on the front porch swing on his own front porch. How had he gotten here? What was the last thing he remembered? He touched his jaw while thinking. "Ouch," he said out loud. His jaw was sore. Swinging his legs down, he sat up. "God," he said as his ab's protested the simple exercise, "what's wrong with me?" He looked down at his bare torso, touching his ab's gently. Then it all came flooding back to him. Jerry. Jerry had done this to him. Shit, he thought to himself, that Jerry did me more damage than I thought. Shaking his head to clear the fuzziness, he finally managed to work his way to his feet.

"And man, that was one weird dream," he muttered to himself. As he stumbled into the house, he failed to notice the mounds of sand left on the swing.

The End


Brian and Wilson