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m/m To Protect and Serve - Chapter 7 Part 3 (Posted 11/29/2020)


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GymPredator
On 10/20/2020 at 7:55 PM, LaDiva said:

So happy with story is back.

Im also little glad Jeff is a slow learner .🙃

HAHA.  He is slow for sure.  Stubborn.  Quite a piece of work.  So was the real person upon which this character is based.  I have told a couple of guys where the name "Jeff Heath" comes from IRL.  They have a pretty good idea because of who he was, just what is going to happen.  Let's just say the real Jeff Heath is not a name I remember with a lot of fondness.  What it takes for Jeff to finally learn his lesson ... you'll have to wait and see.

Thanks again all for all the encouragement.  I will be travelling and isolated this weekend, so it will give me a chance to work on the 2nd half of chapter 7.  The first half was 26 single space pages in word.  2nd half will be equal or longer but really FULL of some pretty earth-shattering things to the story.

Chapter 7 - 2 is well - very heavy.  VERY heavy.  Just my own opinion - it may be some of the most emotionally raw stuff I have ever written - that includes being over and above "Saving Me"  and its touching on teen suicide (Chapter 10 is in outline form on that one, BTW).  The reason why the trigger warnings have been there will be fully on display.  I want to get it out there right now that what happens is not to glorify these events when they happen IRL.  It isn't, and I have seen WAY too much violence over my working life to ever hold that kind of thing up as in any way laudable.  But, it is real and really happens in these sorts of situations.  I am trying to balance it so that those who are uncomfortable with violence that borders closely to reality will be able to skip one particular section without losing a lot.  But it gets to the central question this story is really all about - If any one of us were to actually go through one of these kinds of transformations into muscle that range into the superhuman - what would it REALLY be like? 

Anyway - maybe in a week to 10 days if I can get things in better balance.

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Trigger Warning: As should be obvious to anyone who has read this story's previous chapters, the main character in this story is a detective sergeant in law enforcement.  Anyone who may be triggered b

Trigger Warning: Chapter 7- Parts 1 - 3 contains instances of violence and bullying.  Some of these instances may move into graphic depictions of criminal actions.  The author will attempt to deliver

Trigger Warning: Chapter 7- Parts 1 and 3 contains instances of violence and bullying.  Some of these instances may move into graphic depictions of criminal actions.  The author will attempt to delive

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Tjdonger

Thank you! The chapters are a great body of work. As I’ve said before, interesting, stimulating and fosters much emotion. Look foreword to the next chapter. And I’m hoping the doctor gets to grow....

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GymPredator
On 10/24/2020 at 5:58 AM, Tjdonger said:

Thank you! The chapters are a great body of work. As I’ve said before, interesting, stimulating and fosters much emotion. Look foreword to the next chapter. And I’m hoping the doctor gets to grow....

Thanks.  

As for Gabriel growing - I can tell you this much.  It is kind of in the "lore" of the story, so I am not certain that I have brought it out yet.  The experimental procedure that was done to John works with very few people.  VERY FEW.  That was part of the problem Gabriel and Jack were trying to solve, and why they had no idea of the side-effects like John's growth and getting stronger, more muscle etc.  Most people are incompatible - including every character you have met, Gabriel among them.

Does that mean nothing at all will happen to Gabriel?  Who knows... :)  There are always possibilities.

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GymPredator

Trigger Warning: Chapter 7- Parts 1 - 3 contains instances of violence and bullying.  Some of these instances may move into graphic depictions of criminal actions.  The author will attempt to deliver these within the bounds of taste, but in keeping with what these instances are like in the real world.    Anyone who may be triggered by such depictions are warned that they are coming.  Further, I will again caution that the lead character in this story is a detective sergeant in law enforcement who will be involved in these events.  No political commentary on any side is implied or allegory intended.  This is a work of fiction.  

Authors Notes:

  • I am including links to songs and images that will enhance the experience of reading the story.  Please feel free to follow the links.
  • I also make reference and include characters based on the real world of bodybuilding.  Although these persons are real, they are referenced to enhance the reality of the story.  Any actions described as being made by these real world persons are purely fictional.  They in no way indicate any endorsement of this work.  Including them is a bit of fan service to the sport that I love. 

Chapter 7 - How Did You Love - Part 2


“A champion isn’t made of muscle.  A champion is made of heart.” ~ Liang Chow


The sight of a nearly superhuman giant bodybuilder driving a "small" bodybuilder and a seemingly out of place normal guy in a top down, oversized Jeep ragtop was turning more than a few heads in Colorado Springs that June afternoon.  John, Gabriel, and Justin had spent a few hours at their hotel and had pumped John up with a meal of oats with a bit of sugar and salt.  After a short time to relax, and with John's fullness from the carbs quickly developing, the three were driving back toward Doherty High School and the evening show.  

 

John dropped his third pancake-compacted, drained plastic water bottle onto the floorboard, and groaned as Justin handed him another bottle of liquid, a pre-mix protein, one of two more bottles he had to drink.  "More?" John said, almost exasperated in tone.

 

Justin replied to John, lecturing like one would talk to a child having a tantrum.  “Goddamn.  I’ve never seen anyone bitch so much about eating.  I would think you would be used to it by now.”  

 

“But I'm filling out even more.  You’re gonna make me come in bloated and soft drinking all of this,” John complained as he took the bottle and began to drink it.

 

“Jesus Christ, am I gonna have to make airplane sounds to get you to just do it?  'Open up the little hanger and let the protein plane in.  Buzz, buzz, buzz.' " Gabriel tried and failed to stifle a snicker at the idea of talking to a 7 foot tall behemoth acting like he was a baby not wanting carrots.

 

Justin went right on, "Toddlers don’t whine this much.  Yes, dude, it is more than the usual competitor eats and drinks between pre-judge and evening, but in case you haven't looked in the mirror lately, you are not exactly the size of the usual competitor. I have to do a lot compared to most, and I can sit on your lap like a kid for God's sake. So, you need way more than anyone else on stage."  Justin mockingly threw up his hands and turned toward the little guy all three knew was the boss in the vehicle, "Gabriel, can you talk sense into him??”  Justin asked.

 

“Usually he is like an industrial vacuum cleaner when it comes to food.  He will down liters of water in a single gulp.  So all of this is new to me.  But what is it you fellows like to say, 'Trust the Process.' I think you should just drink it.”  Gabriel smiled as he patted the rock hard, enormous quad next to him.

 

As was his new habit with empty containers, John put his hand on the spout of the now used up bottle, put the base against his quad, and pressed down absentmindedly.  The bottle flattened instantly into a wafer as thin as a stomped aluminum soda can ready for recycling, and he tossed it back with the other plastic hockey pucks.  These displays of strength associated with everyday tasks were so common to John’s personality now that while they made outsiders stop and gawk at the sight of them happening, the feats didn’t even register to him and his close friends and Gabriel.  To John, crushing a used container was no different than wading up a piece of paper.  And to his friends and Gabriel, the way John handled everyday living lost its novelty and became perfectly normal to see him do after just a few days being around him.

 

John glanced over to his small companion, showing the sexy-as-fuck smile he reserved for Gabriel and Gabriel alone, as he dropped the now poker chip shaped bottle on the floorboard.  “Remind me to put you in a headlock when this is over.  Traitor.”  John laughed as he grasped Gabriel’s upper leg and gave it a very firm, but for him, gentle and loving squeeze.

 

“It’s the truth and you know it.”  Gabriel laughed.

 

“Now, he is using my own workout mantra against me.  I can’t win.  I just can’t win.” John said in a fake exasperated sigh.

 

“Only took you six months to learn you can't beat me?”  Gabriel dead panned, causing Justin to roar laughing.

 

Justin patted John’s bowling ball round shoulder in front of him in a signal to lean back, which John did.  “I see why you like him." Justin said in a reduced volume. "Doesn’t take any shit from you.  He is every bit your equal and then some and for someone like you, that’s fucking hard to find.”  

 

John's voice dropped the bravado and jock banter for a moment. He glanced down into the rear view mirror at Justin, “More than my equal, more than I think even he realizes.”  

 

Hearing that Gabriel sighed and wished he could kiss his man. But, Gabriel filed it away as one of many kisses he would cash in in private after the show that night.  John took the last offered bottle, drained the contents, compacted, and tossed it.  Less than a minute later, he expertly took a left turn and pulled back into the high school parking lot.  It was a bit after 3 pm, and the doors had opened for the night show.  

 

As John was getting out and closing his Jeep door, he held up a hand in salute as he saw John Meadows walking up.  Meadows looked around John straight to Gabriel and Justin.  The first question was all business.  “Did he eat?”

 

“Yes Sir, every bite.”  John said.  “Although I swear if they make me bloated…”

 

“Shut up you giraffe," Meadows replied.  "You could drink five gallons and a whole box of salt right now, and it would just make you more conditioned.” They turned and started walking to the entrance.  Meadows reached up and patted John on the center of his lower traps, "Trust the process kiddo."  

 

John looked down and pretend-pouted again, "Damn, not you too…" causing Justin and Gabriel to laugh as the four walked inside the school.  Once through the doors, there was again a hush as everyone was silenced by John's sheer scale compared to the men he was standing beside.  

 

Cedric McMillan was signing autographs and taking photos alongside Jeff Taylor, as was traditional for a guest poser at a show.  But John could tell - even he was calculating what the hell kind of body John was hiding under his tracksuit.  John smiled to himself liking the thought.  He would never breathe a word of it to his coach yet, but maybe Mr. Olympia did have a ring to it.  He would be in for some serious time off after the ring was taken down, and he wouldn't be THAT much bigger before he could do the USAs next month and get a pro card.  Tampa Pro was two weeks later to quality, and then Olympia weekend was only 5 weeks after that...

 

Taylor, on seeing the four, waved them over to the table he and McMillan were at.  As soon as they got within range, Cedric stood up. He was accustomed to being taller than most open bodybuilders being almost 6 foot 2 inches tall.  And he did comport himself better than most around the titan - coming up to John’s mid pecs.  Cedric laughed, “Holy Shit.  Where the hell did they shoot you full of Miracle-gro.” McMillan extended his hand, and John shook it warmly.  He looked at Jeff.  “Is this the kickass prodigy you were telling me about?”  which comment made even cocky John blush.

 

“The very same.  Kyle Brady, this is Sgt. Cedric McMillen of the US Army.” 

 

“Christ, now I know what everyone was going on about.  First thing’s first, though.  Where the fuck have you been hiding?”  It took but a very few minutes of talk for Cedric and John to plant the seed of a fast budding friendship.  Laughing, sharing a few anecdotes, hitting it off as only those in the inner circle of strength sports can, since they have so much of life in common anyway.  

 

While the bodybuilders were talking, Meadows’ cellphone rang.  He pulled it out of his pocket, listened for a moment, and laughed.  “Thanks, Dylan.  I owe you one.”  He hung up and turned to the two bodybuilders.  “It is official.  Phil is popping in for the open class routines and the posedown.”

 

Cedric almost giggled, and it was as out of place for the massive Army soldier to do as it was when John did it.  He obviously had an idea.  He looked up at John.  “Bro, how are you at posing, not mandatories but real posing?”  

 

John smirked and popped his head down and back, gesturing toward his coach.  “Ask the expert.  This is my first show remember.”

 

Meadows piped up, “He is so good it will move you to tears to watch.  Next silly question.”

 

McMillan's smile broadened.  “Then, what do you say to doing a little fucking around with the one-time master of the mind game?”

 

John looked curious, “What do you mean?”  

 

McMillan leaned over to Taylor and whispered something that no one else could hear.  Then, pulling back to standing, he asked, “Is there anything in the rulebook against it?”

 

Taylor thought for a moment, “I have NEVER heard of that even being thought of.  But, this is a show for firsts, and I can’t think of anything in the book against it.  It wouldn't be judged or influence that…  Besides," Taylor smiled, "I sort of like it.”

 

McMillan signaled for John to bend lower, and he started to talk to him in a muffled voice.  As he explained what he wanted to do, John’s own smile got wider and wider.  John pulled back up to standing and put out a hand for a fist bump and clasp.  “You’ve got it.  Just tell me what to do, Mr. Miyagi.”

 

McMillan almost choked as he laughed.  “You are going to be one hell of a firebrand.  Been needing one of those in the IFBB for a LONG time.  OK, Daniel-san, let’s learn wax-on, wax-off.” 

 


Four Hours Later:

 

Word had gotten around the Front Range bodybuilding community about the muscle god on display at pre-judging. So, the auditorium was filled to standing room only in anticipation of the chance to see the new phenom that was John.  The lights were down, and there was a smattering of cheers and general applause as the second of three open heavyweight bodybuilding competitors took the stage. The Armbrust gym crew was assembled back in their prime location seats from the morning, watching, cheering, waiting - all except Gabriel.  He had his phone out texting.

 

John Declann: Did you get it done?

 

Gabriel York: All done, my love.  Have it here in my pocket.  What you put together in just a few hours is amazing.

 

John Declann:  Met a few guys back here today.  Have to thank Dylan for reaching out to him.  Hard enough to contact and keep it quiet.  He isn’t exactly the most social type for people outside his circle.  But, I know this would mean the world to you.  It is tied to your research in a way.  If we can’t do for them what you did for me --

 

Gabriel YorkWell, put that out of your mind now.  You ready?

 

John Declann: As I’ll ever be.  I have done this enough it is rote.

 

Gabriel York:  Then do what you do, babe.  Do it the only way you know how to do it.  Bring the house down.  And give me that sexy, cocky smile.

 

John Declann: I’ll make you proud.

 

Gabriel York: You already have.  XOXOXO

 

Gabriel changed his open app from messaging to camera.  He was going to film this and nothing would stop him.  He knew that John had an idea of his effect on people, but he needed to see what everyone else sees.  What it feels like to see him on stage, not just being on stage doing it.  He wanted John to experience everything about today.   

 

The music for the second competitor was winding down.  As he took his bow to a solid round of applause, Dylan and Justin leaned to Gabriel.  Dylan said, “Are you ready?”

 

“I just asked him that.  I guess I am.  I just -- don’t know what he is going to do that will wow me more than this morning.  That was magic.”

 

Justin patted Gabriel on the shoulder, “I thought that too until I saw this.  This is - well.  Unique.  There might be a few calisthenics guys who could pull this off.  But, Kyle makes about four of them.  It’s -- very special.”  Dylan’s phone pinged a text message.  He opened it and laughed.  He pulled the phone down and tapped Gabriel so he could read it.

 

Phil Heath: We are in the back of the room.  Don’t think anyone has noticed with the crowd and you all down there being a distraction.  So, what’s “the Predator” gonna do?  LOL.

 

Gabriel chuckled as he saw the reply.

 

Dylan Armbrust: Make you shit a brick and shape up, if he ever chooses to go pro. Just watch this.

 

The emcee stepped forward into the light at the left side of the stage.  “Now, if you were here this morning, you should be looking forward to seeing this man again.  And if he is as freaky as he was this morning - and I can tell you that he is since I can see him getting ready to come out.  Well - let’s give it up for contestant 47 Kyle Brady.”

 

John walked onto the stage, again in his green posers, to another massive round of cheers that brought a killer smile to his face.   Already around the room, there was a scattering of the chant of “Kyle. Kyle Kyle.” as if he had never walked off stage at the end of the pre-judging.  Gabriel stood, focused his phone cam, and pressed record, as around him, his and John’s friends let out a chorus of vocal cheers, encouraging their massive friend. John looked down to them, and seeing Gabriel filming, let out a small chuckle and gave him a cocky as fuck wink.

 

Justin, Adam, and Dylan recognized John’s expression change just a bit, as he let the commotion fall away, fully connected mentally with his body, and entered the zone.  He stood at the center-front of the stage and took up a starting pose position that very few had ever seen before.  He knelt on one knee, his right foot and leg on the floor in front of him, his left under.  He planted his left fist onto the ground flexing and pressing into the floor to create in a massive triceps pose.  Then, twisting his back so that his traps and lats were visible and flexed, he raised his right arm straight up, high into the air, then curled it into an amazing single rear biceps. The radical position achieved, his whole body exploded into cuts like few ever achieve.  Then, John became a statue, frozen, fully flexed in that position, waiting on his music.

 

The music began, so loud it startled everyone. 

 

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.   Perfectly in time with the musical thumps, John dropped flat into the stage floor.  

 

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.   John rose into the air, everything on his massive body, even feet hanging in the air perfectly straight and flat into an incredible side triceps version of a planche, only John was supporting all 400 plus pounds of his body on JUST TWO OF HIS FINGERS ON EACH HAND.  Below every person in the crowd gasped in astonishment seeing the triceps explode like horseshoe shaped boulders at the incredible feat of strength 

 

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.  John took the planche one step further, and began to actually crank out planche fingertip pushups, still balanced on those two sets of two fingers. Every lockout at the top of the pushup, John's entire body pumped bigger and bigger as he hit the titanic side triceps view over and over.  Non-verbal screams of incredulity at the raw, superhuman power on display erupted from all over the audience.  The guys around Gabriel who didn't know what was coming, all stood up in unison and screamed "HOLY FUCK!"  They had seen the calisthenics street workout guys do things like this before, and this move pushed the best in the world to the limits.  John did it without so much as a quiver of strain in his muscles.  At the top of the fifth rep and last rep, he held the pose again and turned his head toward the audience.  He flashed the Predator’s cocky, brilliant smile, looking like a kid toying with a small insect, as if to say, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

 

The music began to rise, and as it did, John pulled his feet in to stand on them.  The crowd again began to chant in unison “KYLE-KYLE-KYLE” in time to the music. In one fluid motion, as John’s legs began to raise him to standing, he slowly raised his arms above his head, rotated his fists and forearms and flexed HARD, so that the sheer scale of his thick bis and tris came into view.  The movement resolved into a perfectly hit  victory pose as he arrived at his fully erect seven foot one inches of height.

 

The music crashed into its opening.  John pulled his arms down, forward, and around into a devastating crab style most muscular. Biceps that looked like vein covered basketballs and pecs that looked to literally be as thick as melons blew forward as John smiled into the pose.  Many bodybuilders strain so hard in posing that their smiles looked forced, but not John.  It was equal parts cocky, sexy, and total enjoyment - as genuine a smile as you can get.  After holding it for a moment, he raised his arms up, extended his lats forward, and pulled down hard into his best pose, a front double biceps.  Standing there, John looked like a god so perfect he would have made the even the most asexual person on earth feel their heart rate rise.  He swung his arms around almost in a cradle movement, cocking his wrists, his forearms popping wildly with so many veins that you would lose count trying to keep up with them, as he hit and held one of Arnold’s favorites, a perfect mantis pose.  After a couple of seconds of the crowd truly taking in what he was, the cheers got even louder, the chant even stronger, and John began to feed on it.  His smile slid sideways a bit into a cocky smirk.  He turned and walked, but mostly strutted, across the stage.

 

About two-thirds of the way across, John stopped, turned to the audience, planted his feet, and made his legs warp his thin skin into mountains of muscle as they locked in place and quads flexed.  He briefly crossed his fists at his lower abs and then raised his right arm into a titanic front single biceps pose.  But, as he did, he seemed to look at the melon-sized peak a moment.  He then raised his left hand, slapped the right peak, and instantly the peak blew up even bigger, growing taller and thicker and even more vascular before everyone’s eyes as he hit the pose harder.  John looked out at the crowd, gave a totally smug half-smile and a nod as if saying “that’s better.”  Seeing that, the crowd again went nuts, shouts of “shit,” “fuck,” and every other term anyone might say when they see perceptions redefined pouring up to the gigantic man.  Then he put his arms behind his head, popped out his right leg, and crunched hard, his entire body flexing into a monstrous abs and thighs.  Veins covered the inch deep grooves between his eight pack, thick adonis belt sweeping to his groin, obliques and intercostals the size of a normal guy's ab bricks appeared; yet, on John the aesthetic of it was so pleasing.  It seemed the perfect balance of everything you could ever want in a real man.  And to top it off, John’s eyes nearly glowed as a wide, toothy smile came across him.

 

John then walked/strutted part way back across the stage, and as before, he planted his feet, but this time with his back to the audience.  He put his hands behind the small of his low back and pulled forward, lats booming open into something that looked like a delta wing fighter as he did a crushing rear lat spread.  Holding the pose for a fraction of a moment, his arms shot straight up and then pulled down into a rear double biceps.  The muscles were giant, but perfectly outlined and exhibited, so massive and yet in optimum proportion to each other.  Then, John started to rub that perfect proportion in.  First he allowed one arm to shoot out 45 degrees, and then pulled it back into the pose.  He did the same thing with the other arm.  Three times he did it and everytime the pose got better and better.  Finally, after the third, he allowed one arm to shoot out, the other opened and curved.  His fists became open palms, and he relaxed into a version of an overall open handed Atlas pose that was a trademark of Frank Zane  The crazy thing was - Gabriel and the guys who lifted with John knew - John really was relaxed in the pose.  He wasn’t not even flexing.  But, to all the world, his muscles were so big, his conditioning was so crazy that to everyone else in the room it looked like he was flexing all he had.  

 

John then made a quarter turn, pulled his left arm back and down into a side triceps so large that no one had ever seen this kind of size on a bodybuilding stage before.  But, just as with his single biceps, he smiled his cocky smile, winked at the crowd, and like magic he pulled even harder, making the muscles seem to balloon even bigger, growing right before their eyes.  The crowd roared and the chanting got even louder, seeing how John took the stage and made it his own.  

 

The posing music slowed at that point, softened, and John’s routine softened with it.  What followed was perhaps ten seconds of the most beautiful fluid posing anyone had ever seen.  John seemed to perform a ballet from pose to pose to pose - never quite hitting the pose but always perfectly hitting them.  A single heartbeat split one pose to the next, and the fluid motion of John’s body and his muscle control was like watching a work of art.  

 

But then, John faced the crowd and stopped everything.  The Predator’s eyes locked onto the entire crowd like a wolf ready to take down the elk before it.  He mouthed the lyric that came out at that moment: “You need to know your place.”  Anticipation at its peak, every bodybuilder in the place got the message.  The new god of bodybuilding was going to show them their place, and that place was beneath him.  The chorus hit like a ton of bricks, and so did John, destroying any chance of anyone remotely thinking another man on earth was in his league on this or any stage.

 

It’s about to get heavy/ 

John put his hands to his lower waist, flared his lats and arms, and roared out an upright most muscular that made him look wider than the stage backdrop behind him as veins exploded all across his body, arteries thicker than index fingers plowing down his arms and legs.

 

It’s about to be on/  

He pulled his hands up.  The giant then appeared to suck his his abs and abdominal organs inward and up, before flexing.  They move back into a nearly impossible, wafer thin vacuum pose even Frank Zane would envy.  The contrast between being so wide one moment  to being so incredibly narrow now, started to fry the brains of judge and fan alike.  John started to bounce his head confidently, arrogantly in time with the music, even with the force he needed to maintain the vacuum pose.  It signaled one thing to everyone there - John KNOWS this stage and everyone on it is his.

 

Ya, I’m bangin’, slingin’ napalm/  

Napalm did indeed fly into the competition as John quickly bounced his pecs, causing he chant of his name to instantly morph into a chorus of “Oooooh” before he turned to the side, popped his outward facing leg with its gigantic hamstring dwarfing most men’s waists, spiked his calve, and pulled his biceps back. He hit a side chest, with pecs that were literally inches deep living armor that looked like you could not crack them with hammer blows.

 

So nobody move.  Cause I was sent to warn you, the Devil’s in the next room/  

John rotated at the waist, following his left fist around as he held the side chest a moment through the shift.  Once his back had turned, he twisted and flexed his arms into a three-quarter back double biceps that Arnold would have been humbled by.  John held the lookdown at his biceps, then raised up, smiled, and pumped the pose bringing out even more perfect veins.  

And so it went.  The crowd was going nuts, a thousand people shouting in unison, “Kyle.  Kyle. Kyle. Kyle.” John feeding off of it and putting on a literal posing clinic of what the ultimate bodybuilder was capable of.  His friends down on the auditorium floor right along with everyone else, getting caught up in the positive feedback loop of the crowd making John grow bigger, which made the crowd chant more, making John grow even more.  Everyone was so into it that no one seemed to care if he had gone past his allotted maximum routine time.  The crowd would have stayed watching and cheering for days if given the chance.  John had tapped into something primal, connected with something deep in the primitive part of the brain.  The human fascination with seeing a real Alpha male, a champion in every sense, fully in his element dominating everyone and everything before him. The feeling being there was very nearly religious, with John performing for himself and for them in a way that had to be felt to be experienced.  

 

But, as it always does, a posing routine must end, and so did John’s.  People heard the music wind down, but as it did, John had one last surprise for them.  He began his closing pose with his patented front double biceps. Only now, he held his upper body frozen as he kicked out his left leg perfectly straight. John began to lower his body on the right leg under him. settling toward the ground in a monumental double biceps pistol squat.  The crowd roared again to see such a massive feat of strength, muscle control, and balance.  John held the squat/double biceps in the hole of the movement for a moment, before smiling as his left leg swung out and around into a traditional kneeling on one leg stance.  At the same time, as if in another muscular ballet, one arm held the biceps pose, while the other went straight and pointed out.  The homage to both Frank Zane and Arnold Schwarzenegger complete, the music died, as John smiled one last time holding the pose.  

 

It took at most microseconds for a roar so loud it could have shaken the foundations of the building to consume the auditorium.  Every person in the room, every competitor, every judge, every soul in the audience and backstage, all of them were on their feet alternating between clapping and fists pumping in the air.  John stood up, held his fist to his mouth and kissed it.  He raised it high to the crowd smiling, thanking them for all their cheers.  He brought his hand down, and waved briefly at everyone before he locked eyes with Gabriel.  John brought his fist back down to his lips again, kissed it, but this time held it close as his eyes never wavered from the small man in the crowd he loved more than his own life.

 

Even with the cheering and chanting all around so loud as to make hearing anything verbal almost impossible, Adam leaned over to the blushing dark haired doctor.  “He has NEVER done it that well before.  NEVER.  I think that sign is all you need to know about who he is really doing it for.”  Adam patted Gabriel briefly on the back, as John stepped away out of the spotlight, stopping just before would have exited the stage, waiting. 

 

At that moment, Dylan felt his phone buzz and lit up with a text:

 

Phil Heath: Well, at least I know he is worth all the hype on stage too, and not just his size and the heart of a champion.  This is going to be fun.  Been a while since I had a challenge.  Mrs. Heath says we are good to hang around until they hand him the overall trophy.  And now she definitely approves of the donation.  Send me Kyle’s number will you?

 

Dylan laughed and showed the text to Gabriel, who nodded his ascent that it would be fine to send the eight time Mr Olympia John’s number.  

 

The emcee stepped forward into the light, still clapping himself.  “I don’t think we need to ask for another round of applause for these great men we have just seen.  So if the judges are ready?”  A card was handed to the man.  “OK, let’s have the top five heavyweight and superheavyweights back out here to the stage.”

 

John returned to the stage with the four other much smaller men.  Walking out, each of them was still patting John’s back or shaking his hand.  The men took their places on the stage.  The emcee began, “Well, I dare say there would be a riot if this were not the decision.  So, let me just say it.  The winner of the heavyweight class is competitor 47 - Kyle Brady.”  The crowd again blasted to life as Jeff Taylor stepped out onto stage and gave John a very nice crystal goblet trophy.  John shook the small man’s hand, put the trophy on the stage floor, and decided to give his kneeling front double biceps pose behind the trophy as cameras all over the building flashed capturing pics of the winner.

 

After perhaps thirty seconds, the emcee said, “Kyle, you feel up to going on to the final posedown with the other class winners?”

 

John stood and smiled.  He held out his hand in a gesture and gave a brief nod as if to say, ‘Go ahead.’  

 

“I thought that would be the giant Energizer bunny’s answer.”  Everyone chuckled for a moment before the emcee said, “Let’s invite the other open bodybuilding division class winners onto the stage for the final posedown.  Give them a big round of applause.” 

 

The crowd let out a more muted cheer, seemingly recovering from the wave of emotion and more than a few scratchy throats, as the other class winners emerged on stage.  As they walked on, each man briefly came up to congratulate John, which he returned warmly to each of them.  The odd thing was when the bantamweight class winner came up.  Though ripped so beyond belief that he even gave John competition in that department,  the tiny fellow was noticeably smaller than Gabriel.  Several of the guys got a curious look as John bent down to listen to something the small man had to say.  As they were talking a massive smile ripped across John’s face.  Gabriel knew John so well, he was able to read his lips.  The reply to whatever was said to him, “You’re on.”

 

Dylan leaned over to Gabriel.  “What’s he planning?”

 

Gabriel looked a bit perplexed and replied honestly, “I have no idea. He just said ‘You’re on.’”

 

The emcee spoke up, “Alright gentlemen.  You know the drill by now.  Let’s start with front relaxed.”  Just like every other time anyone else was on stage, John put every man alongside him to shame, crushing the smaller competition pose after pose.  Though now, the squashing was even more intense as John had a crazy pump from his routine that if anything made him look better than his friends and coaches and even Gabriel had ever seen.  Equal parts ripped, shredded, wildly thin-skinned and vascular, but mixed with an aesthetic proportion and flow of his muscles that rivaled the most marketable, photoshopped instagram bodies.  Every single guy up there understood that they were competing for second overall.  But that didn’t stop them from putting up their very best.  Not a single man got angry, quit, or let on any emotion other than enjoying the moment.

 

The judges went rapidly through the last poses, and then the emcee came back on.  “Alright gentlemen, the stage is yours.  Get out there and show us your best.”  The men immediately hit a variety of different poses - except John and the bantamweight.  It took exactly half a second for them to find each other in exactly center stage.  They looked at each other - or rather they at least faced each other.  Standing there for just a second, John totally loomed over the ripped little guy who standing fully erect was staring straight into the top row of John’s abs. They gave each other their best most muscular before they turned and faced the crowd.  Half the audience started cracking up immediately seeing the two men together as it was now obvious what they had decided to do.  Out of every man there however, only Gabriel saw another dimension to this display.  He saw it in John’s face, the only man besides John himself who had a hope of understanding.  The ripped little man who was currently walking to stand in front of John was exactly who John was six months ago.  Same height, same weight, even somewhat the same superficial looks.  John was posing with himself.   The old John versus the new John, side by side, and both of them were having fun with what they had become.

 

The little guy stopped and stood barely a pace in front of John.  He held up a single arm, flexing into a nicely ripped single biceps.  John looked down, smirk/smiled, and nodded approvingly as if to say, “Not bad.” Then, as if a God from above, John lowered his own right forearm over the little man’s head.  He paused when it was lined up in front of the small peak.  Then John twisted his wrist and flexed and cranked back his elbow slightly.  The smaller man’s entire arm disappeared behind the length and thickness of John’s forearm alone, so large they rivaled the flexed biceps of the pros in the audience.  The flexed arm completely eclipsed, the crowd laughed as John cocked an eyebrow with a look that screamed, “I win.”

 

The smaller lifter cranked his head totally vertical and looked up , while John looked directly down.  John was cocky smiling like any schoolyard bully.  The little guy gave a mock pout and harrumphed in fake frustration.  He got a look of determination in his eyes and held up both arms in a front double biceps, even better than the single arm pose just before.  John held up his hands as if saying “OK. Let’s see”  John then took a step around the little man and dropped fully to his knees.  The crowd gasped for a moment seeing that even on his knees, John was STILL taller than the smaller lifter.  John then pulled into his massive front double biceps.  John’s left arm was right in front of the tiny guy’s face and his head was instantly eclipsed by 28 inches of peaked muscle.  The little guy dropped the pose, stepped forward, and put both hands on John’s flexed arm.  Then he started jumping up and down, pulling himself up so that his head occasionally popped over the peak, as if he were a child trying to look above a fence, which caused even John to crack up laughing. 

 

John then pointed to his back, and the challenge was set.  The little guy  pulled his arms forward into a front lat spread for all he was worth.  John replied with a meme worthy slow clap before he slid himself over just slightly and pulled his own lat spread.  The little guy’s entire body, all of it, flashed out of existence behind John’s wall of muscle.  The little guy ran forward again and with another wave of mock frustration, he pretended to pull back and try to kick at John’s quads and punch at his abs. After a moment of fighting,  he turned and did a very nice, ripped abs and thighs.  John got a devilish twinkle in his eye and responded by holding one relaxed arm down beside the outstretched, flexed thigh and calf of the small man.  To everyone’s astonishment - John’s relaxed arm condition simply outsized and out-ripped the little man’s leg.  John then stood and gave his own version of the pose side by side. John then looked down and folded his arms, as if to say, “You give up?”

 

Then came a rapid scene of pose after pose, first from the little guy with a pose and John following with his own version or John blowing away the crowd and the little guy not far behind with his own version.  It didn’t take long for some of the others to join in.  John smirked as he made the middle weight winner’s entire torso vanish behind a quad.  He outmassed the lightweight’s quads and hamstrings with just his flexed calves held next to them.  And after every comparison the crowd laughed more, got louder, and the John/Predator superiority display came out more and more.

 

After maybe ten poses, the bantamweight guy let out a very nice crab most muscular.  John laughed, held up his hands to signal he was going to end the competition.  He bent down slightly, and wrapped his massive gun around the little man’s head, almost swallowing it whole in a painless, loose headlock.  John used a couple of false “cranks” to show off his own biceps development, before he pulled the little guy around in front of him.  John dropped to one knee, with his right quad extended.  He let go of the little man, and as if planned, the small guy took a couple of steps back, sat down, and straddled John’s quad like he was riding a horse.  Sitting with his entire body weight on John’s leg, it was if he was a toddler bouncing on John’s knee.  He held up his arms in a flex, looking more like a little boy “making muscles” compared to his grown father behind him.  High above, John responded with his own version of the pose, the lowest hanging flesh of his triceps well over a foot over the little man’s head.

 

They were both smiling with the crowd going nuts, as the posedown music wound down to a finish.  The little man stood, and John dropped to be on his haunches so that they were mostly equal in height as both he and the little guy embraced warmly.  Every man on stage was having fun with it, fist bumping, clasping, and patting either John or the bantamweight on the back.   The emcee said, “Give it up one more time for all of our class winners.”  John smiled broadly as he stood up, came to his stage partner-in-crime, took his hand, and raised it.  He waved to the crowd to get LOUD, and they responded in kind, giving a tremendous roar for the little guy.  They both took a moment to thank the crowd and all the men walked backstage with John and the little guy actively laughing and talking.

 

After the crowd settled for a moment, the emcee came back on stage.  “Ladies and gentlemen, while the judges complete their final calculations on the scorecards, determining our winners, we have a special guest.  Coming out on stage for us guest posing is Arnold Classic champion, and more important, active duty staff instructor in the US Army, “The One” Sergeant Cedric McMillan.”    

 

The crowd gave it up warmly as the huge bodybuilder walked out on the stage wearing a long leopard skin loincloth and shoulder drape.  The man strolled deep in character, as if he did not have a care in the world.  He stood center stage and dropped the cloth from his shoulder,  revealing what would easily have been the biggest body in the building if John had not been there.  His music began, and the man began to pose, an incredibly fluid style as he moved almost softly from pose to pose, flexing effortlessly with the skill and experience of a man who knew how to connect with his body through many years of work.  

 

The crowd noise began to rise as McMillan settled into his routine showing off his amazing shape that was slightly off season, but still truly titanic especially for active military.  However, not quite a minute into his routine, he looked up, hit a slow, strong most muscular, and then stopped.  A sly, cocky grin came across his face as he looked first out into the audience where he spotted Phil Heath earlier.  Upon seeing him and knowing he was still there standing and watching, McMillan looked to the side stage and waved his hand in a “come out” gesture.

 

The crowd went totally insane as John stepped back out on stage.  On the floor, all of the Armbrust guys went nuts around Gabriel, shouting cheers, wondering what was going to happen.  John waved to the crowd and walked to about ten feet to the left of McMillan.  From that position, they were splitting the stage exactly in half.  McMillan smiled as he resumed his most muscular.  Then, the Armbrust guys saw the unmistakable change of expression on John’s face as the Alpha Predator came out.  Smiling like he was going to eat someone like a Great Whie Shark, John took up the exact same pose in the exact same manner as McMillan was doing. They both held it together for just a moment before they began to move.

 

What happened next blew away every single person in the room away.  Gasps of shock replaced the cheers of the crowd for a few moments as they realized what was happening. The world of bodybuilding would talk about it for years as one of the most insane displays of raw dominant masculinity they had ever seen.  The videos on social media would circulate for as long as there was a platform remotely interested in muscle sports.  

 

John and McMillan began to pose together in absolutely perfect sync.  Pose for pose, move for move, even muscle fiber for muscle fiber, John performed perfectly what McMillan had told him his routine would be a few hours before.  Just from memory, his peripheral vision, and gut feel of the poses and tempo, John mirrored McMillan PRECISELY.  Watching it was akin to a new sport, synchronized swimming crossed with bodybuilding.  It was the perfect dominant mind game to put Phil Heath, the master of mind games, in his place - a brand new novice in his very first show, only his second every posing routine, matching an Olympian in every movement, every step.  Indeed, if truth be told, because John was larger, taller, and in show condition, he looked even better than the pro beside him on stage and would have beat him if it were being judged.  And with every pose, the astonished crowd got louder and louder for both of them.  

 

For over two minutes, there wasn’t so much as a breath that the two men did not take at the same time.  Finally, both men hit the last stage pose together - a crab most muscular - and as they did, John shifted out of unison for the first time since the Predator had emerged.  He shifted his eyes to the back of the room and locked them onto Phil. When the Predator knew he had his attention he smiled his unmistakable hard smile, a smile that would either make a person orgasm or freeze in fear, and gave the slightest of hand gestures.  The gesture was unmistakable to the few who saw it - “I’m coming for you.”  In the back, Heath let out a laugh and returned a gesture of his own.  “Bring it.”  But the Predator could see his body language, the enhanced breathing, the attempt to hide emotions.  McMillan’s suggestion had played perfectly.  He knew he had the champion beat whenever he was ready to collect.   

 

John stood relaxed and turned toward McMillan who slaughtered a front double biceps.  John cheered him on as the crowd went crazy in appreciation of the veteran champion who had brought this to them.  There was an expression on McMillan’s face only John got.  John replied by giving the seasoned pro a wink and a cocky smile.  The game was on - the man with the nickname “The Gift” had taken on the challenge of the most gifted bodybuilder anyone had ever seen.  McMillan laughed.  He raised up and pointed back to John, and what erupted may have been the biggest cheer of the night.  

 

Then, McMillan waved John over to the stage edge.  He hopped down onto the stage floor, and John took his usual single step down.  They had this planned too.  McMillan took the far side of the room and John the side closest to Gabriel and the Armbrust gang.  They started to  wander through the crowd posing right next to the fans.  John made a bee-line for Gabriel.

 

He stood for a moment and waved all of his friends to stand up.  John leaned down to them, “Let’s give them a show.”  All of the big guys smiled and in unison all eleven of them blasted out a front double bi for the crowd.  Gabriel was sitting there smiling, looking at it all, but that didn’t last long as John reached down, picked him up, and plopped the little man sitting on his shoulder.  All of the Armbrust guys laughed and again, they posed, with Gabriel perched above it all.  To the crowd, it looked like a stunt with his best friend sitting up there laughing as John dwarfed him.   But, John leaned over briefly and said, “I love you, babe.  Thank you.”  Gabriel embraced John’s neck briefly, before he sat Gabriel down.  As he did, a lady caught John’s eye.  She was sitting in the audience with a larger bodybuilder next to her.  But she was looking transfixed at him.  John leaned over to Gabriel, and asked something, to which Gabriel laughed and nodded affirmatively.

 

John made his way posing up to right in front of the woman.  He flashed his orgasm inducing smile and invited the lady to have a feel of his pecs.  She stood up in her chair and as John flexed and almost danced like a lap dancer, the woman ravaged John’s upper body.  The Predator glanced at the small bodybuilder in his chair next to them and on his face was equal parts beta male embarrassment and pure lust.  John loved the moment, completely dominating the smaller man before he gave the woman a small peck on the cheek.  John then motioned the man next to him and instantly restored the once crushed soul.  John thanked him for being a sport and his indulgence in the fun.  John motioned for him to pose and they posed together for several moves, bringing big cheers from the audience for both.  When they were done, John patted the smaller guy on the back - and smiled broadly when he felt the bodybuilder feel up his arm for a moment - before thanking him.

 

John and Cedric continued through the crowd flexing and taking pics.  After a couple of minutes, both men went back toward the stage.  The Armbrust gang swarmed both with fist bumps, pats and cheers, knowing just how incredible what they had just seen was. All of them did, but one.  Gabriel stood back, his heart bursting with admiration and pride in his man.  He had seen a new John come alive here, and it was so perfect.  Gabriel caught the eye of his lover standing back, and John saw Gabriel had a slight mist of tears in his eyes - good tears, happy tears, for him.  John’s reply was perfect.  He held his fingers to his lips, kissed them, and raised his hand straight toward Gabriel.  To the rest of the people there, it looked like a gesture of thanks to the crowd and again to Gabriel for the earlier stunt.  But to those who knew about them, they knew John showed his love for his man.  

 

The crowd kept rocking their cheers for what seemed like forever...  

 

***

 

All of the class winners of open bodybuilding emerged onto the stage and took their places, as the emcee took a piece of paper from the judges.  “Well ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in my life, I am a bit of a loss.  Usually I try to make this suspenseful, but I think every one of you out there and every man on stage knows that the winner of the overall title is - Contestant 47, Kyle Brady.”  Yet another wild cheer erupted from the crowd as John stepped forward to pats and handshakes from everyone surrounding him.  Jeff Taylor and Cedric McMullin brought forward the much larger trophy and champion’s sword and handed them to John as he did a front double biceps over everyone's heads.  

 

John held the pose for just a second before he waved at the emcee and motioned to ask for the microphone.  The man stepped over and handed the small silver ball and stem to John.  He held up his hand for a moment to get everyone to settle down.

 

For the people who had never heard it before, John’s deep, sultry, all-encompassing voice just made him seem even more perfect.  “Thank you.  Thank you all for the cheers and support, and a special thank you to my friends who came to support me and a few future on stage rivals too.  But, that isn’t why I asked for the mic.  I wanted to ask all of my fellow class and overall winners to come up and stand here with me, and everyone backstage and in the audience who competed today to either stand up or come up on stage.”  There was a loud rumble and shuffling as the stage filled, competitors stood, and the winners of men’s and women’s physique, classic, fitness, and bikini joined John in the front.  After a moment for everyone to settle, he began again.

 

“You know, it was a bit unfair today and tonight for everyone up here competing with and against me.” John cockily popped his pecs quickly and everyone began to laugh, “But seriously, it isn’t quite for the reason you think.  You know, I am a civilian, just a cop who works for the Air Force.  Everyone else here, I have them at a disadvantage. Because every day they are out defending our nation, our way of life,  and their loved ones and mine too, in addition to training throughout the year for shows like this one all the way up to the Olympia for Sergeant McMillan over there.  I do my duty and uphold my oath the best that I know how, but theirs … theirs is so much more and they do it so damned well.  I think you should join me in giving a cheer to all of them.  It has been one of the honors of my life to get to know some of you today in the back, having a bit of fun back there and on the stage, but in that getting to know you, learning just how much we owe you.  Kind of feel like Einstein.  If I am a tall or a big guy, it is because I stand on the foundation you giant’s laid for me.  And for that I will be forever grateful.”  John put down the mike and began to clap, and as he did,  the entire room stood up as one and gave what was unquestionably the loudest cheer of the night.  Several of the men and women who had won their classes who he had come to know came up to John and gave him a handshake or hug, which he returned the best he could.

 

After a few moments, John collected the mic again and he went on.  “And now, if you will indulge in one more thing.  I wanted to ask Sgt McMullen to come up with me and Jeff.  I’m also told by a couple of the 4ID guys, that their commander, General Matt McFarlane is here in the audience too.  I hope that the General doesn’t mind indulging all of us on stage for just a second.  And out there, my own boss did me the honor of coming to see me.  Colonel?  And since it was kind of hard for me to hold onto it - dressed in a poser anyway - Gabriel?”  A sound of confusion went through the crowd, save for strangely several knowing smirks and glances, one of them being Gabriel York.

 

When General McFarlane, Colonel Dougherty, Sergeant McMillan were on one side of John and Jeff Taylor and Gabriel on the other, Gabriel reached into his pocket and handed John a small folded piece of paper.  John addressed the soldiers and airmen.  “You know, there are a few people who cannot be here tonight who should be.  You know more about them than most.  Those who have been called on to make the ultimate sacrifice to keep us safe here at home and you all safe there on the battlefield.  All of us division winners and runners-up and myself have agreed that we are dedicating our wins to those men and women who can’t be here.  And - for the families of those men and women - I sort of took it on myself to speak to a few people.  General, Colonel, Cedric, all of us have pooled all of the winnings that would have been given out and those friends have graciously multiplied those winnings tenfold.  We want to give this back to you to help the gold star families of those men and women.  They had to leave their families behind, at least physically.  If I have learned nothing since I came to work for you Colonel, is that we care for our own, and we leave no one behind.  This is a small payment toward that debt we owe to those families.  All of us here, even a civilian like me made those people who are no longer with us a promise.  We will not leave their husbands and wives, parents and siblings and children behind.  And all of us here keep our promises.”

 

John stepped forward and handed McFarlane, Dougherty, and McMillen a check for over twenty five thousand dollars.  The roar from the crowd and chant of USA was so great that it nearly deafened everyone inside.  John shook all of their hands, but when he got to McMillen, John leaned over and pointed toward the back.  Near the doors back doors, McMillen could just make out Phil and Shurrie Heath standing there.  Phil had a sideways smirking smile that screamed “Gotcha.”  John put up two fingers and gave the quickest of salutes to Phil, which he returned laughing, as the couple left the theater.  John grinned down at McMillan, “Sorry bro.  I just couldn’t resist.”  Both men clasped hands and bro hugged.   

 

General McFarlane flagged John to hand him the mic.  “Well, there is not much I can say to add to that, son.  Nothing much except my thanks.  I think it is safe to say, though, that there is a seriously big man on stage who’s heart and soul is even bigger than his body.  And that IS saying something.  Thank you, and I give you my word that every cent of this will go to those families.”  McFarlane again shook John’s hand as the crowd cheered its enthusiastic agreement with the general’s words. 

 

McFarlane handed the mic back to the emcee.  “It has been an amazing show and I can’t think of a better way to have capped it off.  Thanks to Jeff Taylor and everyone working behind the scenes to give us a great day.  Have a great night folks and see you in a few weeks at the Colorado State Championships.”    

 

***

 

It was nearly an hour after the show wrapped before the people who were asking for pics and handshakes with John had all made their way through and left the building.  John took time with every single one, shaking every hand, posing for every pic, doing a few stunts and feats of strength if someone asked and it wasn’t too outlandish.  It was quiet in the auditorium when John came from behind stage to see his friends and Gabriel standing and talking.

 

“Well, I think I am finally done.  You boys ready for home?” John said.

 

Gabriel smirked, “Home?  What does that mean, “home”?  We have a hotel, and I have been learning a lot about all of this thanks to these blokes.  And one thing they have told me about is some ritual called the “post show refeed.””

 

John folded his gigantic arms across his chest.  “OK, just what the fuck have you all been poisoning his mind with?”  John said as he laughed looking down at the assembled crowd.

 

“You’ll find out, big boy.”  Adam said in a passable Mae West impression, which brought down the house in laughter.

 

Gabriel pulled out his cell phone and looked at the time.  “Damn.  Mr. Overall Winner  here is going to make us late.  We have to be there in fifteen minutes.”

 

John looked quizzically. “Be where?”

 

Gabriel smiled.  “A reservation for one man, ten bodybuilders, and one super-massive black hole for sushi.  I am told that it is the perfect bodybuilding food...”  Gabriel looked up devilishly.

 

John could not resist, “Payback’s gonna be a bitch, Squirt.”  John smiled as several “Ooooooohhhh’s” came from the young guys.

 

Gabriel's smile widened as he blushed just a bit, “You’ll have to tell me what it is like to be on the receiving end.”  Everyone died laughing again.

 

“You have turned him into a monster.  I knew I shouldn’t have brought him here and let you plant your shit in his head.”  John said, as they all started walking toward the doors.  “Gonna take me weeks to get that ego back in check.”

 

Dylan looked up, “Good luck with that.”  Everyone patted Gabriel on the back as the gym fam headed out for the time honored ritual.  As they were walking, John’s phone gave a ding with a text message.  It was an unfamiliar number, so he opened it.

 

303-555-1212: Hell of a night Big Dog.  Gonna be the most fun in years teaching you what I can do.  See you at the gym on Monday.  You and Justin can workout with me if you want to learn something … Let’s play the game.  ~ Phil

 

John laughed.  He might never actually get on stage with Phil Heath.  He had promised Gabriel just one show, but Meadows had said once you start, you get hooked on it.  John felt the urge to do a late entry into the State show.  But Gabriel would decide that.  What was going to happen in the gym the next few months, however, promised to be the most fun he had ever had.

 


 

When it all fell apart, it started so innocently. So innocently… 

 

 It was nearly 11 pm when John and Gabriel left the restaurant, the last two of the group to leave.  They were very nearly the last customers to leave.  Both glass doors opened, with Gabriel easily passing through on one side.  John, on the other hand, had to do his usual twisting and bending to exit.  They were both laughing, deep in conversation, as they started walking toward the parking lot and John’s Jeep.

 

“My God, even I have not seen you scarf down that much.  Do you EVER get satisfied eating anymore?” Gabriel said in jest.

 

John put his massive mitt of a hand gently onto Gabriel’s neck and back and rubbed,  It was the best he could do given their difference in size, to walking with his arm around his lover’s  shoulder.  “Is THAT my fault?  You are the one who gave me this appetite.”  John was barely containing his laughter.

 

“I will admit - the thought did cross my mind to check the chef for a stroke when you ordered the entire menu.”

 

John feigned a half innocent smirk.  “But, but. Sushi are such small little th--”

 

The next moments were a blur. Just a few seconds. Thirty at best. Yet, those seconds seared themselves onto the mind of Gabriel York as surely as if they had been inscribed with a white hot branding iron.  Frame by frame, imprinted forever.  

 

Faster than Gabriel could see, almost faster than he could perceive with any of his senses, he felt John’s hand leave his back and spread across his chest.  Gabriel felt his shirt pull tight and then --- a sudden rush of strength like nothing he had felt in his life as his feet left the ground.  Gabriel felt himself flying helplessly backwards as he was literally thrown away from John.  From walking happily to sailing through the sky took less than a second.  

 

The next thing he knew, Gabriel felt himself hit tolerably hard on a large pile of landscaping mulch in a parking lot divider - the better part of eight meters from where he had been.  He found himself laying on his back, looking up at the night sky. Gabriel began to raise up with the intention to ask what the hell happened.  But that flashed out of his mind as he heard three crisp, yet wet sounding snaps.  Snaps loud enough to echo around the parking lot, and almost at the same instant - a scream.  A blood curdling, nightmarish, male scream of agony.  Gabriel went white.  He had only heard such a high pitched wail once before in his life.  When John had been on the table being given his new augmented nervous system - and everything else that came with it.  That was a sound he would never forget that chilled him to the bone, that haunted his dreams still … except this time, the sound was wrong.  This was not that scream.  It was slightly different.  The pitch was wrong.  Instinctively Gabriel knew, whoever it was in such pain, it was not John….

(To be continued in Chapter 7 Part 3)

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  • GymPredator changed the title to To Protect and Serve - Chapter 7 Part 2 (Posted 11/19/2020)
WrestlejockCT

Wow! Just....wow. That is THE most intense cliffhanger I've read in a long, long time. Great writing, Gym Predator!

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W0lven

The whole story is intense and really good! The predator coming out to play and make pay others was great - I guess now that an attempt on Gabriel was made, he's going to be murderous tho

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GymPredator
15 hours ago, WrestlejockCT said:

Wow! Just....wow. That is THE most intense cliffhanger I've read in a long, long time. Great writing, Gym Predator!

 

12 hours ago, W0lven said:

The whole story is intense and really good! The predator coming out to play and make pay others was great - I guess now that an attempt on Gabriel was made, he's going to be murderous tho


Thanks all.   I have 7.3 already written actually.  The first rough draft of this wound up to be 39 pages BEFORE I ever started a single revision.  And my revisions tend to make chapters longer, not shorter.  So, the only way anyone would read it, or I could post it, was to split it in half.  But it is done.  And it made sense to split it on the cliffhanger - page 17 of the pre-revision draft, lol.

Hmmmm --- the Predator.  What to say about him.  I guess this is food for thought.  I am guessing that I have painted the picture enough of what's happening that you can anticipate why John would throw Gabriel away like that.  What exactly is going down.  Put yourself in that spot.  How would you feel?  What would you do in that moment?   Now, dump those feelings into John, and add to it a lifetime of training in a body like he has.  What would you be capable of?  Add to it one other emotion.  Fear.  What then?
 

Then look at Gabriel.  He has been changing too.  Maybe not physically like John, but he has been changing mentally and spiritually.  We know he is afraid of something.  Well two things.  He has said them already in the story.   What would you do if you were him in that moment?   They are both very much afraid, each a different aspect of fear perhaps, but fear nonetheless.

This next scene is the crux of the whole story.  I have been planning or mulling this one scene for over a year now.  And through circumstances well beyond my control (aka 2020) it had taken on dimensions I never anticipated.  I have let one person read what is now 7.3, and you're right.  It is intense.  VERY intense.  The trigger warnings are there for a reason.  But the question is an intense one too.   

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panama

Very elegant writing. And the descriptions when John is posing are just perfect. Can´t wait for more ! Thanks for this great stuff.

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  • GymPredator changed the title to To Protect and Serve - Chapter 7 Part 3 (Posted 11/29/2020)

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