Joey T and Me ; An original serial by Ygrowold/The Hitman
I wasn't really expecting anything as exciting as a four-alarm fire as I ran along the path I normally did when doing my morning workout. But there it was ahead of me, black billowy smoke already turning gray and then white as water was pumped into the blazing building. The street ahead was jammed and crowded, blocked not only by fire trucks and stopped traffic, but also by hordes of onlookers, anxious to get a view as the building was quickly being engulfed by the dancing flames of destruction. Unable to progress much further, I too stopped to gawk as the top walls of the building teetered, even the brick facade giving into the expansive heat.
Not wanting to lose the momentum of my workout, I remained aloof from the main crowd, standing off slightly to one side. As I witnessed the conflagration before me, I was probably the only person jogging in place, my arms pumping and punching in a variety of configurations at imagined foes as I worked to keep my heart rate in its target zone. Suddenly a murmuring sound from the crowd drew my attention toward the buildings front door. A lone fireman had just burst through the opening, a small child hidden safely from the flames by the folds of his great coat. As he handed the child off to a paramedic the crowd noise erupted into a cheer. And then changed into a gasp of fear as they realized the back of his coat itself was on fire. A couple of fellow firefighters began to dose him with water as he struggled to disengage himself from the burning material. Soon he stood shirtless as well, only his pants remaining. That is when I realized his coat was not the only thing smoldering for his intense dark eyes were locked directly on me.
It wasn't an uncomfortable moment for me physically. After all, as an athlete, I was used to people seeing me without my shirt on, clad only in workout shorts and running shoes plus maybe a pair of sparring gloves, much as I was at the moment. No, it was a mental thing, a kind of prickly feeling that seemed to invade and try to consume me. His stare was forceful and concentrated while at the same time, seemed to show a deep and extreme passion. Suddenly, a portion of the building exploded with such force that I found myself involuntarily looking in that direction, my body drawn into a protective crouch as the crowd was showered with wood, brick, and glass shards. When I glanced back, he was gone. I scoured the immediate area but had no luck in finding him. Unwilling to leave without some clue as to his identity, I searched out his coat lying on the ground, focusing on the nametag. It was emblazoned with the name Joey T. It was at this moment I realized just how commanding a distraction he had been for I was simply standing still. Well, almost, for the expansion in my shorts told me some part of my body was definitely standing but not still.
My forward passage still blocked, I decided I would retrace my steps, simply run the part of my course already completed backwards. As I raised my first leg and arm, my body poised to resume its gravity defying workout, a voice called out from behind, "Hey, you, runner."
Oh God, I thought to myself, hoping against hope that it was he, this Joey T. who had so completely invaded my body and soul. As I turned my heart sank for it was an older man, obviously a fireman, but without any of the fire gear the others wore, probably some kind of liaison searching out for witnesses as to how the fire might have started. I waited for him to walk up; ready to tell him I hadn't seen anything. As he neared, he held out a small card.
"Cap'n Joey says meet him at this address tonight around six if you're interested in a little sparring." As he stood there, his gaze dropped to my groin area and back up. I met his gaze and he winked at me. Without another word, he pushed the card into my hand, turned and walked away. I glanced down at the card, recognizing the address as a rather upscale combination loft and condo district, converted out of the old warehouses that had inhabited the area for more years than I could remember. I bent down and crammed the card into the side of my running sock, the only place I had to carry anything of value.
My day went unbelievably slow with anticipation of the evening. But the time finally arrived when I could safely leave the workplace a little early and no one would say anything. As I have said, I am incredibly athletic well, maybe I didn't use the word incredibly earlier but I am. Taking the stairs down three at a time from my eighth floor office, I was soon mounted on my mountain bike, zooming off to my expected rendezvous with Captain Joey T., my tires humming in unison with the song that sang in my heart. Still dressed in my office clothes, I had my boxing gear stuffed in the small gym bag bungeed to the back of my bike. As I rode along, easily avoiding the taxis, buses, and private cars that strove to be my undoing, my mind crept back to the vision I had seen at the fire site, Joey T. Captain Joey T. My sparring partner. And maybe more.
It was just approaching six as I turned a brody, spinning my bike almost to the direction I had just come from, stopping directly in front of the address I had memorized from the card. There were a few scattered lights decorating the night from the windows above. It was then that I realized there had not been an apartment number on the card, only the street address. Oh well, I thought as I locked my bike to the black ornamental metal hand rails that ran along the sides of the stairs, someone inside would know where he lived. Maybe there was even a doorman, in which case, no number was needed as no one got in unannounced or uninvited. Grabbing my gym bag, I started up the steps. As I glanced down toward the basement area that all of these old buildings had, I knew instantly where I was to be. For there behind the lighted window casing was a fully furnished workout room including a sparring ring. I changed direction, jumping past the few steps to the lower level. My hand touched on the door handle, my heart pounding in my ears as it easily turned in my grip. I stepped into what I was dreaming of as being a great adventure. I had no idea.
Did I mention the place was a fully furnished workout room? Of course I did. But did I tell you I'm talking better and more equipment than some full-fledged athletic clubs. There seemed to be every conceivable type of electronic unit plus free weights, all encircling both a sparring ring and a full-sized wrestling mat. Holy shit, was all I could think. Was all this just for my Joey T.? I had to ask myself that for if so, this really was going to be an adventure. The only problem was, no one was there to greet me.
"Hello," I called out. No answer. Again a little louder but still not response. I roamed around the room and soon found one of the doors opened into a changing room/bathroom combination. There was also a steam bath attached. I looked in the window but it was clouded, leaving me unsure of whether it was inhabited or not. Taking the opportunity, I changed out of my work dudes and into my workout stuff. Trust me, it wasn't the same stuff I had been wearing that morning. In fact, it was some new stuff I had been saving for a special occasion. And that was what I was considering this, a special occasion. Leaving my clothes in one of the lockers, I stepped back out into the hallway that opened onto the work out area. My heart jumped right up into my throat for there he was working out on some free weights. I stood silently, watching him. Oh my god, he was even more than I had envisioned from the brief glance at the fire that morning. Rest assured that my heart wasn't the only organ of my body jumping or pumping.
I don't know if he heard my racing heartbeat, which seemed to be pounding like a bass drum against my ribs, or if he just suddenly became aware of my presence. Whichever it was, he suddenly looked up, his eyes locking on mine just as they had done that morning.
"Aw, ab's man," he said, a huge smile spreading across his face. "You did make it." His eyes dropped from mine, traveling downward. "And it would appear your little fella's happy to see me too." He followed this with a deep guttural laugh. I knew I should be feeling embarrassed but for some reason didn't. In fact, I felt my lower muscle grow even harder. To me, that was a good thing. That is, until he spoke again.
"See, boy's, he's all I told you he was and obviously more!" More of that laugh as I followed his gaze which was no longer focused on me but had turned to one side. Sitting by the sidewall, initially out of my view, were two boys, twins. I placed their age at late teens at best. They were scrunched up against the wall, obviously doing sit-ups.
Now I was embarrassed as they took in my physique including my protruding rod. No worry about that though as it quickly shrank away to its normal flaccid shape.
"Jesse and James, meet the ab's man." Joey T said by way of introduction. "Ab's man, Jesse and James." My heart still in my throat, I could barely choke out a greeting.
My mind was fumbling around for words to say but I couldn't seem to lock on any. Even if I had, I am not sure I could have forced them out through my throat. Just what was it I had stumbled into here? My heart was still pounding and I was short of breath, my ab's tensing and slackening as I tried to get control of myself. God damn, it just wasn't happening.
Joey T walked over to me, his eyes seeming to cut through me, judging me, yelling at me for my weakness, feeling pity for me. I felt panic approaching. I couldn't remember a single situation where I felt so completely Joey T rammed his fingers into my ab's, closing them on a single striation of my abdomen muscle. He bodily heaved me in the air, holding me there, suspended in space. I wanted to scream but couldn't even seem to make that happen. I was totally at his mercy. He shook me like a rag doll. I involuntarily flexed my ab's, the muscles tightening on his fingers. A pleased look came over his face. Using me like a barbell, he began to lift and lower me in a military press motion. I fought the pain by maintaining my hardened ab's, hoping that maybe I was at least hurting his fingers as well. I was now determined that he would not get the best of me.
"Put on the gloves, boys," he said to the twins, Jesse and James. "We've got a real fighter here. I watched hopelessly as they followed his orders, each pulling on a pair of older boxing gloves, gloves that had long ago lost any padding and support they might have contained. I was lowered to the ground but as my feet landed, I realized I was a little light headed, woozy, my knees not quite underneath me. I closed my eyes for a moment, hoping to get my sea legs as they say. A tremendous blow caught me on the chin and the next thing I knew, I was waking up, lying in the middle of the sparring ring, a pair of boxing gloves on my own hands.
My jaw hurt like hell and the muscle that Joey T had tortured was tender. My last memory came crushing back in. Someone had cold cocked me after Joey T had put me down. Probably Joey T himself. My fists tensed within the boxing gloves. He might be bigger than me but there was no way I was going to let him get away with this.
I pushed myself up to find I was not alone. Joey T, Jesse and James were all standing outside the curtain of the ring.
"Okay, boys," Joey T said, "whichever is first, have at it?" His words did not forebode well for me. But I wasn't afraid. After all, I was trained. I had boxed Golden Gloves as a youth and had continued on the college boxing team until time had run out and I had needed to concentrate more on studies to keep my scholarship. Now out of college, I ran and shadow-boxed to keep in shape. These buffoons would find out what I was really made of. At least that was my plan at the moment.
"Come and get some," I said boastfully, knocking my gloves together. The twins turned toward each other, touched gloves, and without a word, seemed to know which it would be.
One of them, either Jesse or James, I didn't really care, raised the rope and the other climbed in the ring with me. My hands went up and I was ready to fight. J/J came toward me, his hands held out as if to tap gloves, the way every boxing match started. Only this one didn't have a referee. I held my gloves out. A foot caught me in the groin hard enough to drive me to my knees, choking to keep the gorge in my stomach. A fist caught me straight in the face. As I said earlier, the gloves we wore were well past usefulness and I felt every one of his four knuckles against my bone. I was thrown back some by the blow. The next came up under my chin, finishing off my backward momentum. I was now on my back, my legs bent back beside me. J/J was on me, his legs holding mine in, preventing escape, as he pummeled my abdomen relentlessly. Despite my musculature, his blows were hard and penetrating, plus I was still fighting the pain in my groin. My breathing was stunted, quick short breaths between blows. My arms felt like lead weights, I couldn't even raise them to defend myself. J/J's blows were sinking deeper into my muscle and inner organs. Soon each blow was accompanied by a grunt or groan, all my own. Then suddenly, J/J was off me. The blows had stopped only it took me too long to realize it. By the time I did, the other twin was already coming into the ring. They were playing me like a tag-team match, only boxing.
I managed to pull my legs out and sat up. God, my ab's hurt. But honestly, they had seen worse. A lot worse. Had I only known? I got to my knees and was using the rope to pull myself up. J/J came in close and I took a swing. I missed but he didn't. His knee came up into my ab's, driving me back against the turnbuckle. Someone on the outer curtain grabbed my arms, yanking them behind me, looping them into the ropes. I was held stationary. J/J began plastering my ab's with blows, a combination of his fists, knees and feet. And once in awhile, just for good measure, he would smash my jaw with a karate round kick. It was not long before my legs were completely gone out from under me and my weight was totally supported by my arms caught in the ropes. My ab's were useless against the blows now. All I could do was remain determined not to let them make me give in. I just wasn't going to do it.
Once again the blows stopped but it was some moments before I knew it. My arms were loosed from their bondage and I simply fell forward on my face, my head hitting the canvas hard. The jolt shook me as much as any of the earlier blows and I saw stars flitting across my field of vision before the darkness took over.
end of chapter one - what is it Joey T and his goons, Jesse and James, have
in store for our hapless hero? Will they succeed in breaking him? Will he
beg to be allowed to give in? Check it out in the next chapter