strength My Friend Pete - Chapters 1 - 4

[bbukraft]

Thanks for all the comments. I'm glad to see you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Here's Chapter 2 for your reading pleasure.

My Friend Pete — Chapter 2

As the semester went on we continued to work out together, although I now knew he was just going through the motions. He was still a great workout partner, since I could always depend on him for a spot and to push me to my limits and beyond.

On weekends we would go to the campus Ratskeller to knock down a few beers and listen to some music. There were about a half dozen of us that hung out together, talking about the football game or the girl in the calculus class that one of the guys had the hots for, but was afraid to make a move, or other such matters of great importance to college guys.

One night there were several members of the football team at another table arm wrestling each other and placing some friendly wagers on each match. Pete and I looked at each other and both had the same idea. We both said simultaneously, “Let’s get in on that action.” We walked over to their table and Pete said, “Hey guys. Wanna see how the wrestling team does against the football team? I have a 20 that says my pal here can beat your best guy.”

“You’re on!” Said Chad, the captain of the team. He wasn’t the one who I would be wrestling though. Bruno, who was the huge center on the starting lineup, stepped up to the table and said in a deep guttural voice, “You’re going down little guy!” Now I’m not exactly little, at 6’ 3” and 210 pounds, but compared to this 300+ pound giant, I did feel small.

At this point I’m thinking this may not have been the best idea. We sat opposite each other and locked hands. Chad held our fists and counted down from 3. As we started pushing I saw the surprise on Bruno’s face as I was holding him back. He then pushed harder and I put everything I had into it. I had done quite a bit of arm wrestling, so my technique was pretty good. You should have seen his expression as I started to put him down. He then put all his strength, and weight into it and eventually put me down.

The captain took the 20 and said in a somewhat condescending tone, “That was a pretty good fight for a wrestler.”

I then came back, “That was just the warmup. I bet you 100 bucks my little friend here can beat your guy.”

That drew a lot of laughter from the football team. Pete then said with a smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

“In your dreams” said the center as they moved into position across from each other. He looked a little concerned when he saw Pete’s solid, ripped biceps bulging as he reached over, but he thought to himself “that’s just for show. My arm is still much bigger. I can easily take him.” Pete just smiled.

Pete was half the weight of this guy and it looked almost comical as they faced up across the table. The captain held their fists and counted down from 3 again. Pete just sat there with his arm in the neutral position as he watched the big guy struggle to put him down, but his hand wouldn’t move even an inch. The big buy was struggling with all his strength, and sweating profusely from the effort, but Pete’s arm wouldn’t move.

As they sat there in an apparent stalemate, Pete’s arm was on full display. The round peak of his biceps showing a very pronounced split and the cables of his forearm, laced with veins was looking impressive, even though it was much smaller than Bruno’s. Pete then starts toying with him, letting his arm go down past the 45° point. He was even pretending to struggle then suddenly, in one quick move, he slammed the center’s hand down to the table with a loud bang. The whole place went quiet as they looked on in disbelief.

The footballers were accusing Pete of cheating, saying it was rigged, and all kinds of other excuses, but Pete just took the money and said, “Thanks guys, nice doing business with you.”

At that the center lunged at Pete, angry as hell. Pete easily flipped him on his back with a crash and stood over him with a smile. At this point the ruckus attracted the attention of the bouncer, who was heading over. Pete extended his hand to pull the center up saying in a voice loud enough for the bouncer to hear, “You okay, bud? You gotta watch that floor. It gets slippery with all the spilled beer.” Not wanting to get in trouble and end up on the bench for the next game, Bruno took Pete’s hand and got up. In a silent show of dominance he squeezed Pete’s hand as hard as he could, expecting at least a wince out of him, but to his surprise Pete matched the force and then some, until the center winced and pulled his hand away.

We went back to our table to finish our beers, leaving the football team scratching their heads, trying to figure out how this little guy beat their strongest teammate. They thought it was either some really good technique or their center got a cramp (as he was claiming to save face). They finally decided it must have been a cramp.

On the way back to the dorm I said to Pete, “Did you see the faces on those guys when you slammed his fist down? It was epic.” “Yeah,” replied Pete, “and the expression on the big guy’s face when I was holding him in the neutral position no matter how hard he tried. But the best part was after I helped him off the floor, he tried to squeeze my hand when we were shaking. He thought he could make me wince and pull away, but he was the one who winced.” We continued to laugh about the whole thing the rest of the way back to the dorm.

A few weeks later, we were in the Rat again, shooting the shit with our friends over a few beers, when the captain of the football team yelled, “Hey wrestler dude! How about giving us a chance to win our money back?”

I yelled back, “What’d you have in mind? I don’t see your center here tonight.”

No, “we have another challenger for your little friend.”

Pete got up and started walking over to their table to see who it was. I knew Pete could take on anyone they wanted to put up against him, so I got our buddies to put up some cash too. When we got to the table we put the money down and said, “Okay, we’re in. Can you match this?” They all dug into their wallets to match what we put on the table. They were all too willing to put up their money. They must really have a ringer here.

Pete sat down at the table and waited for his opponent. A big guy pushed his way through the crowd and sat across from Pete. Chad said, “This is Seth. Seth, this is Pete. Oh and did I mention Seth’s the state arm wrestling champion.” That drew a roar of laughter from the football team. Pete and I just smiled and said, “Bring it on!” as Pete extended his arm ready to lock up.

This guy was picky about the grip, so it took a while to get set, but finally the captain counted down again and the match began. The arm wrestler tried for a quick win, but Pete stopped it short of the table. He played with him for a little while, with the advantage going back and forth, making it look like a close matchup. Eventually Pete put the arm wrestler’s hand down to the table, much to the surprise of the entire football team and most of all, the arm wrestler. All of our buddies were cheering and whooping it up, which didn’t make the football team very happy.

Pete then said to the arm wrestler as they shook hands, “Good match! Want to go double or nothing with our left hands?”

The arm wrestler said, “I’m willing, but it’s their money. Ask them.”

They did what football players do, they huddled together discussing the odds that Pete could beat him again. After all, it was a close match. Eventually they agreed, pulling out their wallets to match the total money on the table.

They locked hands and at “go” they started. The arm wrestler went for the quick win again, but this time Pete’s hand didn’t move. The arm wrestler tried with all his skill and strength, but couldn’t move Pete’s arm. He then said, “Christ! It’s like arm wrestling a bloody statue!” The football team was getting worried now. It was looking like they were going to lose a lot of money tonight.

Pete held him there for what seemed like an eternity. Then he slowly and deliberately pushed his arm down until it hit the table. Again my buddies and I began to whoop it up. I grabbed the money and said, “Thanks guys. I’ll tell you what, to show our appreciation I’ll by you all a round of beers.” They weren’t happy, but they weren’t going to turn down free beer. I paid out their share to my buddies and paid for the round out of my winnings.

Back at the dorm I turned to Pete, “you know, I bet we could make some serious cash doing this.”

Pete looked at me and said, “I don’t think we’ll get those guys to put up any money again. Not after I beat their ringer so badly.”

“You’re right. We’ll have to go somewhere else. Maybe we can go to some bars in town and take on the locals. I’m sure every bar has some guy nobody can beat.”

[bbukraft]

Ok, here's chapter 3. Chapters 2 and 3 were kinda short, but I'm working on Chapter 4. Maybe I'll get inspired and make it a little longer and more exciting. In the meantime enjoy.

My Friend Pete — Chapter 3

Well, Saturday night rolls around and Pete and I go to this local bar and pool hall in town. The place smelled of smoke, beer and some other unidentified odors, making me wonder why the health department hasn’t shut them down yet. We grabbed a table over by the wall and ordered a couple beers. We then started arm wrestling each other to see if anyone in the place would take the bait.

It didn’t take long before a few people started gathering around to watch. When there was enough people looking on, I put Pete’s arm down to the table (as prearranged), and said, “Ok, that’s 3 out of 5. Pay up.” Pete then handed me a 20. One of the big guys watching looked at me and said, “You think you’re something college boy, beating this little guy. Let’s see how you do against a real man. I bet I could slam your fist down so hard the table would crack.”

That earned a few cheers from other locals and they started egging us on. I looked him up and down and said, “I don’t waste my time on armatures. If you want to wrestle me, you gutta beat my friend here first.”

He looked at me and then at Pete and said with a snarl, “Ok, I’ll smash the pipsqueak and then take care of you, college boy!”

I then said, “Ok, but let’s make it interesting.” I took a wad of bills out of my pocket and placed it on the table. “Match this and we can get started.”

The local guy’s eyes bulged out as he looked at the stack of bills. He laughed as he saw what he thought was some easy money. He turned to one of his pals and said, “Bill, can you spot me some cash. I’ll split the winnings with you. It’ll be easy money.” His pal said, “You sure about this, Tony? That’s a big chunk of cash there.”  Tony glared at him and growled, “You know I can beat these clowns.” and Bill counted out an equal amount of cash on the table.

The local guy took my seat across from Pete and they locked hands. The waitress acted as ref and started the match. Pete did his usual act of pretending to struggle, going back and forth, making his opponent think he had a chance. After a few minutes of toying with him he slammed the guy’s arm to the table with a crash. When I looked down, there was a crack in the table. I smiled and collected the money.

Bill, who put up the cash, said, “Wait a minute, college boy. Not so fast. How about double or nothing with the left hands? You just got lucky, is all.” He looked at Tony, “Whadaya say, Lefty?” His friend was apparently left handed and he was sure, since it was a close match, he would win left handed.

Tony gave him a dirty look, but couldn’t back down now. Pete and I looked at each other and agreed.

They locked hands and the waitress counted down from 3. This time Pete held the neutral position for a minute, letting his opponent struggle. The smile on Pete’s face might have been a bit too much, as his opponent was really starting to get pissed. With some grunting Tony started to make some progress, or so he thought. The smile never left Pete’s face as he slowly pushed his arm to the table and held it down for a few seconds to drive home his point.

You could see the steam coming from this guy’s ears as the crowd started yelling, some praising Pete and other berating Tony. Tony was not a happy camper and neither was Bill. I thought I’d push it a bit more, knowing that if things got ugly, Pete and I could handle ourselves. I looked at Bill and said, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you a chance to even things out. Double or nothing again, but this time your guy can use both arms.”

The crowd really was fired up now and there was no way Tony and Bill could turn down an offer like that. After all, there is no way this little guy can win against both of Tony’s arms. Apparently, no one noticed the hard, bulging muscles on Pete’s arm.

They locked hands again. This time Tony placed his other hand on top of the two locked fists and the waitress counted down. Tony pulled with all his strength and put all his weight into it. But Pete’s arm wouldn’t move. You could see the hard baseball bicep bulging on Pete's arm and the rippling ropes of muscle on his forearm as he held off his opponent's two arms with ease. Someone from the crowd pointed out how hard and ripped Pete's arm looked, which pissed Tony off even more. Then, without warning, he slammed Tony’s fists down so hard it knocked Tony off his seat and sent him crashing to the floor.

At this point I figured we better leave, since Tony and Bill were really pissed off. I was also sure they had several friends in the bar ready to back them up in a brawl. I gathered up the money and gave the waitress $100 for our two beers, then we headed for the door. Pete heard it first, the click of a pistol being cocked. He pushed me aside just as a shot rang out. In a flash Pete threw a chair at the guy with the gun, knocking the gun to the floor.

What happened next was mostly a blur. Pete grabbed the gun and squeezed just enough to damage the mechanism so it wouldn’t fire then tossed it aside. While he was doing that someone smashed a chair over Pete’s back. Pete turned and looked at his attacker, who looked back with a shocked expression. Pete grabbed him by the collar and knocked him out cold with a quick jab. Two other guys grabbed Pete’s arms (amazed at how hard and muscular they felt), while Tony smashed his fist hard into Pete’s stomach. Tony let out a cry as he nearly broke his hand on Pete’s rock-hard abs.

Using the guys holding his arms as support Pete lifted himself up and kicked Tony with both legs, sending him flying across the room, smashing into the bar. He then swung his arms forward, smashing his two would-be captors into each other, knocking them out as well. A half dozen guys then went after Pete. I jumped in and took out a couple guys that were going to join in the fight, while Pete took out the rest. When the dust settled, there were several guys on the floor with broken jaws, ribs, and multiple bruises. At this point we high-tailed it out of there before the police arrived and threw our asses in jail.

When we got back to our dorm, we counted up our winnings before taking a shower and turning in. We decided we wouldn’t try this again, at least not for a while. The last thing we wanted was to get in trouble and be kicked off the wrestling team.

[timaa]

Another awesome chapter! I was a little confused by exactly what happened to the shot from the gun - did it not hit anyone and go into the wall or something?

[bbukraft]

11 hours ago, timaa said:

Another awesome chapter! I was a little confused by exactly what happened to the shot from the gun - did it not hit anyone and go into the wall or something?

Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I guess I should have explicitly said the shot missed. If it had hit someone I would have described that as part of the action. Sometimes when you are writing you forget that what is in your head doesn't always make it to print. 

[bbukraft]

Ok, here's Chapter 4 for your reading pleasure:

My Friend Pete — Chapter 4

A few weeks later, Pete and I were hanging out at one of our favorite clubs in town, called Harry’s Place. It was nothing fancy, but they frequently had some pretty good local bands playing and there were usually quite a few girls from the college as well as locals to hook up with. The best part was the dress code, if you call it that, is very casual, so we could wear muscle shirts to impress the girls.

Tonight was slow and the band wasn’t all that good, so Pete and I decided to leave early. As we were walking to the bus stop to catch the bus back to campus, we heard something coming from the alley next to the Rainbow Lounge, a gay bar a block from the club we just left. It sounded like somebody whimpering, so we stopped to investigate.

When we entered the alley, we saw six big guys cornering two much smaller guys, who looked scared shitless. The biggest one said, “Okay faggots, it’s time to teach you two a lesson. What you queers do ain’t natural, so we’re gunna to beat the fag outta you ‘til ya straight. Right guys?” The others laughed in agreement as they moved in on the smaller guys.

Pete yelled, “Hey! What’s going on here?” One of the smaller guys yelled “Help!” when he saw us and the big guys stopped and turned to see who was interrupting their fun. The big guy who threatened the two gay guys (probably the only one of them who could string enough words together to make a sentence) yelled at us, “This ain’t none a ya business. Now beat it before we decide to beat the crap otta you clowns too.”

As we moved closer, Pete said, “You goons are real brave…six against two. Maybe my friend and I can even out the odds a little.” While he was talking Pete pulled off his shirt revealing his ripped, tight, muscular torso.

“Big talk for a little guy, pretty boy. You think those gym muscles scare us? I bet they’re just for show. Let’s see if they can do anything besides impress the fags.” At this he pulled out a switch blade and struck out at Pete. Pete wasn’t just strong, but he was fast too. He dogged the blade and grabbed his attacker’s wrist. With a quick squeeze and a twist, the big guy’s forearm snapped with a loud crack. He dropped the knife and yelled out in pain. Pete kicked the knife away and let his victim drop to the ground. He sat there against the wall, holding his broken forearm and looked to be in a lot of pain.

At that two of his friends grabbed Pete’s arms and a third started punching Pete in the gut while the other two turned their attention to me. Pete’s rock-hard abs provided an impenetrable shield against the barrage of hard punches, each one landing with a loud THWAP. It took a while, but soon the puncher realized his hands were hurting a lot more than his victim’s stomach, so he stopped punching. He looked around and picked up a 2x4 laying on the ground in the alley. He swung it at Pete’s gut with all his strength. It snapped in half on impact with Pete’s abs. I wish I could have seen the guys’ faces when that happened, but I was a bit busy.

As a wrestler, I had no trouble deflecting the attack and sending both guys flying against the wall. I held my own against my two assailants until one of them kicked me in the nuts. Damn that hurt! One of them got me in a full nelson while I was keeled over in pain. The other one started punching me in the gut. My abs are pretty hard and I can take a punch, but he was starting to wear me down. I then flexed my pecs and lats as hard as I could forcing my arms down and forward, breaking the full nelson. I then gave the guy in front of me a hard knee to the balls. Hey, what goes around, comes around.

Meanwhile Pete lifted his legs up and wrapped them around the guy with the broken 2x4. He squeezed hard, forcing all the air out of his lungs and cracking a few ribs. When Pete let go, he dropped to the ground next to the guy with the broken arm and lay there in pain, struggling to breath with partially collapsed lungs and several broken ribs. Pete then pulled free of the other two and lifted them both off the ground by their throats. Their feet were dangling in the air as they struggled to pry Pete’s hands off their throats. Pete pressed his thumbs and middle fingers against their carotid arteries, cutting off the flow of blood to their little brains until they both lost consciousness and fell limp in his hands. He then tossed them in the pile with the other two.

Pete then turned to see me break out of the full nelson and knee the other guy. I turned and started pounding the guy’s face and gut until he couldn’t stand, let alone fight back. While I was busy giving this guy a pounding, Pete had lifted the guy I kicked in the nuts and knocked him out cold with a single punch to his jaw. He tossed him in the pile with his pals. When I was done, I added the guy I was pounding to the pile. The six goons were laying there, either unconscious or wishing they were.

Pete then looked at the guy with the broken arm, who was sitting against the wall holding his wrist, moaning in pain, and said, “If we ever catch you bothering these guys again, you won’t come out of it so lucky. Now apologize to these gentlemen before we leave.”

“Screw you!” was his unwise response. At that Pete grabbed his other wrist and with a quick twist broke that one too. “You were saying…or do I have to break a leg too?” Pete countered. The guy, now in much more pain, with fear in his voice managed to grunt “Sorry.” “That’s better.” Pete then added, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, and did I mention, I hate bullies, especially bigoted, homophobic ones!”

We then turned our attention to the two gay guys we had just saved and I asked, “Are you guys all right?” They both nodded as one of them started gushing, “That was amazing. How can we ever repay you? You saved us from a serious beating. You guys are like super heroes! You even look like super heroes! Oh my gawd! Look at the muscles on you two.”

I responded, “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. We’re just a couple wrestlers from the college who thought you could use some help. I’m Jack by the way and that’s my friend Pete.” As we were shaking their hands, they introduced themselves as Bruce and Gary. Gary said, while feeling Pet’s arm as he shook his hand, “I didn’t see you in the Rainbow Lounge. I would definitely have noticed two hunks like you. How did you know we needed help?”

“No, the Rainbow Lounge isn’t exactly our style. We just left Harry’s Place and were walking to the bus stop when we heard something in the alley and stopped to check it out.” Gary added with a disappointed look on his face, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that…I mean the Rainbow not being your style, not the part about you stopping to help.” Bruce added, “So you two aren’t a couple then?” I responded, “No, we’re straight, but we’ve been friends since we were kids.” Pete then added, “We should be getting back to campus now. Come on, we’ll walk you to your car and then we gotta catch a bus back to campus.”

We walked them to their Tesla around the corner, and they offered to drive us to campus. I responded, “No thanks, we’ll just take the bus. But thanks anyway.” Gary came back, “No, we insist. It’s the least we can do after what you two did for us. Please. It’s really no trouble at all.” So, we gave in and took the ride. After all, even the back seat of a Tesla is more comfortable than a city bus.

[ncscuc]

Love superstrength stories like this! 

[boardman]

11 minutes ago, ncscuc said:

Love superstrength stories like this! 

Yes!