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|"OK, men, lets prepare for the mission," said Jeff. The boys put on
dark tee shirts that stretched across their big torsos, their muscles
bulging underneath. This was the first time the boys had put on a shirt
in three weeks. The sleeves of the tee shirts were too small to go
around the boys' big shoulders and arms, so they cut them off above the
shoulders, letting their muscular shoulders and arms show themselves off
as the incredibly big and buffed muscular weapons that they were. They
put on military fatigue pants and combat boots, boots that would enable
them to deliver devastating kicks. They had been practicing kicking
with combat boots. The boys' legs were now so strong that they could
break a two-by-four with one devastating kick. And the muscles in their
ass and legs were so strong and conditioned that their kicks were very,
very quick, even wearing combat boots. The combat boots felt like
slippers to the legs of these strong boys. Finally, they put charcoal
on their faces, just like Marines in combat. They knew that the
Warlords wouldn't recognize them with their blackened faces and big,
rippling muscles. They didn't look anything like the skinny boys who
left the 'hood just three weeks ago to go to camp. Now they were
embarking on a secret military mission to destroy some of the vermin
infesting their neighborhood. No one would know who these buffed young
Jeff and the boys headed for town in Jeff's jeep at about midnight. The boys were incredibly pumped and ready for action. As they drove into the boys' neighborhood they saw about 15 Warlords hanging out at the end of the block. Occasionally a car would drive up and a drug deal would go down. No one else was on the street. They were too afraid of the Warlords. Jeff parked the jeep and said, "OK men, you know the mission. You're on your own. You are to complete the mission and be back in this jeep in 10 minutes. Now, GO!" The boys jumped out of the jeep and walked casually down the street towards the Warlords. When they got about 25 feet away, a couple of the Warlords started walking over to them. One of them, a sinewy kid about 18 years old, said "Hey, man, we own this 'hood. Get the fuck outahere!" The kid lifted his fists, threatening the three muscular boys.
That was a big mistake. When the kid got about six feet from Jason, Jason lashed out with a lightning fast, powerful kick to the kid's ribs. The breaking of two ribs made a sharp cracking sound that could be heard by all the Warlords. The kid looked at Jason with a look of total surprise and horror. He couldn't believe what Jason's powerful body had done to him in a split second. Before the kid had time to comprehend what had happened, Jason was smashing his face, chest and gut with devastating blows. The fight lasted about ten seconds and the kid was out cold on the ground, blood flowing from his broken nose and pulverized face.
At that, all of the other Warlords rushed over to attack the boys. In the past, a pack of 15 Warlords was easily able to beat up anyone who was foolish enough to challenge their authority over the neighborhood, so the Warlords attacked with complete confidence. That confidence was soon shattered. The two biggest Warlords, men in their mid 20's who each probably weighed about 200 pounds and were covered with gang tattoos, attacked Joey. Joey recognized them as the leaders of the gang, two punks who had enjoyed tormenting Joey and his friends for as long as he could remember. Joey grabbed the arm of one of the gang leaders as the other Warlord's punch bounced harmlessly off Joey's powerful, hard chest. In a split second, Joey twisted the arm of the first Warlord behind the Warlord's back. The Warlord tried to resist, but Joey's incredibly muscular shoulders and arms rippled with power as the Warlord's arm was forced up his back by Joey's irresistible force. The Warlord cried out in pain, but Joey didn't stop. He wanted to test the strength of his new muscles against the strength of this big, strong Warlord, the Warlord who had so easily beaten him up in the past. He wanted to inflict as much pain as possible on the motherfucker. He strained his muscles with all the force he could generate, pushing up on the Warlord's arm with the full power his muscles until he heard a crackling sound, kind of like the sound made when the leg of a turkey is ripped away from its body at a Thanksgiving dinner. The Warlord's arm had just been dislocated from his shoulder, pulled out from its socket by the brute force of Joey's powerful muscles. The Warlord yelled out in agony. Joey smiled confidently and threw him on the ground like the piece of garbage that he was.
The other big gang leader had stood in horrified amazement as Joey's big, ripped muscles crippled his homie. Before the Warlord could react to the brutal reality of what he had just seen, Joey turned to him and said, "You're next, motherfucker." The Warlord tried to run, but Joey was too fast and too strong, and he easily tackled the now-fearful Warlord. He wrestled him to the ground and punched him several times in the chest and face with devastating blows. The Warlord's nose was immediately broken. Then Joey wrapped his legs around the Warlord's chest in a scissors hold and contracted his huge thigh muscles. All the air was immediately crushed out of the Warlord's lungs. The Warlord cried out in short, barely audible gasps. He was begging for mercy. But Joey kept contracting his muscular legs. He wanted to test their crushing strength. He wanted to see how strong he really was. He wanted to totally annihilate this vermin. The slabs of muscle in Joey's legs bulged under his Marine fatigue pants as he crushed harder and harder. He strained with all his might, the muscular force of his big, powerful legs against the solid bone of the tough gang leader's rib cage. Finally, he heard a loud cracking sound as one of the Warlord's ribs broke under the tremendous force that Joey was applying. The Warlord gurgled in excruciating agony. This caused another surge of adrenaline to course through Joey's body and he squeezed his massive thighs even harder. "Crack, crack," came the sound from the Warlord's chest, as two more of his ribs succumbed to Joey's enormous strength. At that Joey released his iron grip and jumped to his feet. The Warlord lay on the ground in total agony. Joey felt great. He felt strong. He felt like a big, mean muscle machine. The fight had lasted no more than 15 seconds.
Meanwhile, Fernando and Jason were annihilating the remaining Warlords. One Warlord about a year older than Fernando attacked Fernando with a knife. Fernando kicked the knife out of his hands with lightning speed, then grabbed the punk's arm with an iron grip at the kid's elbow and wrist, and while holding the kid's arm steadily in place, quickly jerked his knee up with tremendous power. The force of Fernando's big, muscular leg broke both of the bones in the kid's forearm into two separate pieces. The punk cried out in pain as he watched his forearm come apart while being held firmly by Fernando's strong hands, the muscles in his forearms writhing with power like a nest of snakes. Fernando then let go of the kid's arm, and the wrist part dropped down about two inches from the elbow part. The kid just stood in amazement at what had just happened to him. Fernando sneered at the punk, coiled up his rippling, muscular right arm and punched the kid hard in the gut, so hard that the kid collapsed in pain holding his severed arm. "Guess you won't be using a knife for awhile, asshole" said Fernando
Several other Warlords tried to attack the boys, but it soon became clear to all of them that the superior muscular strength and fighting ability of the three 15-year old boys from Muscle Camp were going to completely overwhelm every one of the Warlords. They also realized that if any of Jason, Joey or Fernando wanted to, he could use his big, buffed, writhing muscles to inflict serious injury, pain and even death on any Warlord he wanted. And they could also see that Jason, Joey and Fernando actually enjoyed using their rippling, super-strong muscles to inflict pain and injury on the Warlords. It didn't take long for the Warlords who were not writhing in pain on the ground to run away as fast as they could. The buffed, pumped, muscular boys stood over their vanquished enemies and flexed their arms in a display of complete domination and arrogance. Their tight tee-shirts were wet with sweat and clung tightly to their muscular chests. Their pecs and lats bulged under the tight fabric, almost bursting through. The cut away arm holes of their tight shirts showed their bulging, striated, cannonball shoulders, their wide slab-like muscular lats, and their massive arms that rippled with taut, sinewy muscle, the cord-like fibers and big veins showing clearly under their tan, paper-thin skin. Even at 183 to 190 pounds, they were clearly more muscular and much stronger than any of the Warlords, some of whom outweighed them by 30 pounds. They looked like beautiful, young muscular gods.
And they knew that they were going to get ever bigger, more muscular and stronger. The next time they attacked the Warlords, no Warlord would be able to put up ever the slightest resistance to their overwhelming muscular force. They would be able to break the Warlords' bones like twigs. They would be so massive and strong that the biggest Warlords would be like ten year olds to them. They smiled at each other and flexed again, letting the Warlords below them gasp in awe at their muscularity and power. Then Jason said, "If we see you shitheads again in this neighborhood, you'll wish you had never been born." At that, the three young, muscular vigilantes ran back to Jeff's waiting Jeep and hopped in. "Mission accomplished, sir," said Joey.
On the way back to Muscle Camp, the boys told Jeff about every detail of the fight. Their cocks got rock hard as they told Jeff how their quick, powerful muscles had completely overwhelmed the Warlords, breaking their bones and pulverizing their bodies. Jeff was very proud of his trainees. When they got back to Muscle Camp, Jeff and the boys were so hot that they immediately went to the bedroom and had fantastic sex, watching their rippling muscles in the mirrors and remembering what those muscles had just done to the Warlords. The boys then had a huge protein snack, drank two glasses of Muscle Blast, got a growth injection from Jeff and finally went to sleep, dreaming of their big, mean muscle machines vanquishing everyone who got in their way.
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