From: lewj99@yahoo.com AARON PART 1: THE WITHDRAWAL By JL Aaron turned his back on the construction site, leaving the pulverized dump truck, mangled crane, and twisted steel beams to be found by the crew in the morning. His arms and chest burned with the deep pump from defeating all those tons of hardened metal, beating it, warping it, destroying it with nothing more than his own two hands. The construction site wasn't the end though; he needed more, needed to satisfy the animalistic urge that flowed like fire though his adolescent body. It was almost midnight now; the industrial park was completely deserted, lit only by a few scattered street lights and the nearly full moon. The dim light reflected off the crevasses and bulges of Aaron's impossibly built body, clad only in a pair of denim cut-offs burst open at the seams. The only sound was from the flow of traffic on a nearby interstate; Aaron would be joining that traffic soon, taking his beat-up Chevy truck down the road, maybe to the next town, maybe to the next state. But first, there was a little financial matter to take care of...his funds had been dwindling lately. It had been almost four months since he had hit that Brinks truck, so it was time to make a withdrawal. Aaron walked over to this pickup and grabbed a duffel bag from the passenger seat. Looking around, he spotted exactly what he wanted: a bank building, about a half-mile away. Aaron took off across the neatly manicured lawns, legs pumping furiously, covering the half-mile distance in about 45 seconds. For the first time, he allowed a smile to cross his rugged, unshaven face. This was almost too perfect. The ATM was located just outside the front entrance, with no video surveillance. For a minute, he was distracted by the building itself, a four-story combination of precast concrete and reflective glass. 'I could take that fucker', Aaron thought. After all, it wasn't much bigger than the building he had uprooted back in Milwaukee, and that had been back when he was only 17...but it was a time-consuming task, and he wanted to hit the road ASAP. Aaron turned his attention back to the ATM, and the thousands of dollars it contained in its reinforced bulk. He almost had to laugh, thinking about all the poor suckers who worked in the building, 9 to 5, slaves to the corporate grind...Aaron had worked a few odd-jobs here and there, just for something to do, but when it came time to get some real money, he let his muscle do the work. Wasting no time, he SLAMMED his right fist into the concrete beside the ATM, driving it four inches in, flattening rebar and opening up a large crack in the wall. Cocking his left fist, he slammed it into the other side, pulverizing the concrete. Reaching in, he grabbed the ATM on either side, warping the metal with his fingers as he created makeshift handholds. Then, bracing his right foot on the wall just below the machine, Aaron let out a loud grunt and started pulling. His titanic back swelled into a relief map of peaks and valleys, far wider than the machine itself, as his enormous biceps contracted in a vein-encrusted display of inhuman power. The ATM shifted slightly as cracks spiderwebbed across the concrete. Metal groaned as it was ripped from its previoulsy sturdy position. Aaron gritted his teeth and continued his assault. Thick veins snaked across the gnarled, corded mass of his forearms. The wall under his right foot began to cave in. 'COME ON, MOTHERFUCKER!!!' Aaron roared, as a trickle of sweat rolled down his bright red face. Aaron's upper body had exploded in an awesome display of raw muscular power. Thick, striated muscles forced veins to the surface, as his neck disappeared beneath surging traps. No machine, no matter how sturdily constructed, could hope to withstand the onslaught of Aaron's testosterone-fuelled teenage brawn. Cracks opened up within the wall; thick bolts bent or snapped. The ATM was about halfway out of the wall, but Aaron showed no sign of letting up, working it out further with a series of sharp pulls. Solid metal curled under his fingers as he dug deeper into the machine. Then, with a final roar, Aaron YANKED the entire ATM out of the wall, causing a shower of sparks as the electrical wiring was severed. He slammed the machine to the ground and flexed his monstrous guns at the gaping hole in the wall, a testament to his power and fury. 'YEAH, COCKSUCKER! COULDN'T TAKE THIS DUDE'S MUSCLE, COULD YA?' Aaron yelled in triumph. By now, his cock was at about half-mast, painfully evident snaking down the right leg of the tight Levi's. But he was only halfway there; he still had to get at the money inside. He placed his right boot on top of the slightly mangled hunk of metal and started pressing. Hard. Thick, cable-filled quads that would make Paul DeMayo look like an anorexic swelled to life, popping a couple more seams in quick successsion. The ATM's metal lid groaned, trapped between the solid earth and the insane pressure this kid was exerting. The sides buckled, and rivets began popping out, opening up a small hole. That was all Aaron needed. Reaching in, he peeled the top off the ATM, savoring the sound of metal being so easily defeated by his 18-year-old hands. God, he loved this. Reaching in, Aaron wrenched out the large black box containing the money. 'Jackpot' he smiled. Holding the reinforced steel in his massive hands, he began squeezing. Striations jumped forth across the mass of his pecs, competing for room with a series of zig-zagging veins. Like the dump-truck tire a while ago, the steel box didn't stand a chance. Not when Aaron was this close to the prize. Once again, he opened up a seam in the heavy steel, and caught his first glimpse of the greenbacks inside. It was nearly full. Wrenching the seam open further, he reached in and began grabbing handfuls of twenties, which he stuffed into the duffel bag. 'Fuckin' a!!!' he shouted. This would be an even better haul than the Brinks truck, and it took about half the time. Aaron cleaned out the ATM within a minute, hands working nearly at lightning speed. He would count the loot later, but by his own estimation, there had to be at least $5000 sitting in the duffel bag, enough to last him quite a while. Aaron kicked the mangled remains of the ATM into the parking lot, sneering at its quick defeat. It was fun though; he made a mental note to try it again soon. Glancing at the clock on a nearby building, he saw it was only ten after twelve. Lots of time before he had to leave...and his body was pumped to nearly inhuman dimensions, muscles and veins swollen, massive quantities of adrenaline flowing through his bloodstream...he wasn't through yet. Once again, he eyed the building itself, noticing the network of cracks he had already made in the base. Unconsciously, he began clenching and unclenching his fists, sending tremors of muscle up and down his piledriving arms. It was time for a little demolition, Aaron-style.... Aaron Part 2 (Demolition Man) by JL Aaron stepped back from the building for a minute, looking it over in the pale moonlight. It looked ten, maybe fifteen years old, solid and sturdy (except for the gaping hole where he had wrenched the ATM out of the wall). A smirk crept across his face as he figured out a plan of action. His biceps ached to unleash their power on this four-story structure of concrete and reflective glass, to show it who's boss. "You think you can handle these guns?" he taunted the building, flexing his massive, distended biceps. The muscles swelled into an amazing double peak, split down the middle, covered in a mass of thick veins. "No way. You're goin' down, motherfucker." >From ripping down that other building, Aaron knew that he had to weaken some of the internal supports first. He could have simply kicked in the glass doors to gain entry, but that was so...unoriginal. Glancing around the deserted parking lot, he saw what he needed over in the corner - a delivery truck. Striding across the parking lot, Aaron looked over the delivery truck, scratching his heavy beard stubble. An SUV would be better for what he had in mind, but the truck would do. Walking around back, he placed one huge hand on the back end and started pushing, maneuvering the massive truck as easy as a normal man would push a shopping cart. Wheeling around to the back of the building, Aaron pushed the nose of the truck against a section of concrete, and started shoving. Hard. The truck squealed instantly, trapped between the thick concrete and the incredible force exerted by this teenage maniac. Ropes of muscle swelled across Aaron's triceps and forearms; those arms would have looked out of place on a Mr. Olympia, let alone an 18-year-old kid. The front hood bent upward as the entire engine compartment began to buckle. Cracks began spreading out along the concrete as Aaron redoubled his efforts. One of the side panels began warping with a heavy groan, but this just egged him on even more. His hands sunk into the thick steel chassis. Aaron sneered as he felt the frame bend under his assault. His back separated into a mountain-scape of eye-popping muscle, while his neck disappeared beneath his surging traps. The front windshield cracked as the engine was forced through the dashboard. The warped side panel popped off completely, sending rivets flying across the parking lot. Finally, with one last heroic shove, Aaron muscled the truck through the wall. Chunks of broken concrete and bent rebar rained down on the mangled truck. Grabbing the back end, Aaron yanked what was left of the truck out of the wall, walking in through the jagged hole. "That's how a REAL man gets in" he said, surveying the office. It was a fairly open design; cubicles were scattered across the middle, with offices lining the outside. But it wasn't the offices he was interested in, it was the support pillars. Picking up a photocopier, he heaved it at one of the pillars, destroying it with a loud crash. He continued around the first floor, smashing some of the pillars with his piledriving fists, and destroying others with one blast of his size- 15 feet. After taking out most of the first-floor pillars, he decided to go upstairs. Spotting a stairway door on the opposite wall, Aaron crouched down into a linebacker's position, exploding upward and tearing across the office. He SLAMMED into the heavy steel door with his shoulder, knocking it off its hinges and sending it clanking to the concrete floor. "You thought you could stop me?" he asked mockingly, picking up the creased door in his paws and holding it above his head. With a grimace, he started pulling down, bending the thick steel in the middle as if it were clay. Within seconds, he had bent it completely in half, so he began compressing the door. Four inches of solid steel buckled and warped around his hands, seemingly defying the laws of physics. Aaron tossed the muscle-destroyed door aside, walking up to the second floor, where he knocked the door down with one karate-style kick. He battered the second floor pillars in a workman-like fashion, never pausing for breath, never breaking a smile. His goal was within reach now - he could sense the building beginning to yield to his terrifying strength. A rush of adrenaline spiked through his system, even better than the high he'd gotten from destroying the ATM. Aaron rushed through the third and fourth floors, knocking down pillars left and right, blasting through walls like they were tissue paper. He paused to look over his handiwork. The office looked like it had been hit by a tornado...and in a sense, it had. The internal supports sufficiently weakened, Aaron ran back down the staircase and through the gaping hole. Cocking his fist, he rammed it into the concrete on the northwest corner, pulverizing it and pulling it away until he found one of the outside steel supports. Reaching in, he wrapped his hands around the foot-thick steel and started pulling. His enormously- pumped arms somehow swelled even bigger, biceps turning a deep shade of red and looking ready to explode. "AARRGGH!!!" he yelled as he began to bend the steel out of shape, sending deep cracks up the side of the building. The nearby windows shattered, and the building itself shuddered, fighting a losing battle against Aaron's throbbing teenage muscle. "GOIN' DOWN, MOTHERFUCKER! DOWN!" he roared, actually starting to rip the steel support out of the ground. Inside, the ceilings began caving in with a loud crash, dropping hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of computers and office equipment. The cracks on the outside wall deepened, rending apart as Aaron compromised the building's structural integrity. The adjoining steel supports began pulling apart as well, thick rivets popping under this muscleman's assault. More windows shattered, but they were drowned out by Aaron's animal roar. Cracks spread out across the concrete in the second and third floor as Aaron pulled the steel support beam outward in a blind fury. Finally, the overstressed building could take no more, and collapsed inward with an enormous CRASH, sending a cloud of dust skyward. Where there had once been a four-story building, there stood only a pile of rubble, destroyed by this 18- year-old freak of nature. "YEAH! FUCKIN A'!" Aaron screamed, pumping his fist. The sight of all those tons of concrete and steel wrecked by nothing more than his own two hands gave Aaron an incredible hard-on. His cock throbbed as it snaked down his pant leg, so he simply reached down, tore the fabric open, and pulled the horse-sized appendage out. All it took was a couple of tugs, and he was shooting a huge load all over the broken concrete and bent steel. He groaned with pleasure, closing his eyes as he finished up. He had to sit down. Once the adrenaline rush was gone, he walked back to the front of the collapsed building, grabbed his duffel bag with the cash from the ATM, and casually strode back to his pickup truck. Before driving away, he took one look back at where the building used to stand, and smiled. "Aaron's Demolition Company, at your service" he muttered, climbing into the passenger seat and heading toward the interstate. END