The Bouncer, Part III
The Executioner

By Dave.

The next morning, the Bouncer awoke to the sound of a crowing rooster.  He 
slowly opened his eyes and realized that he wasn’t back at the warehouse.  As 
he focused, he remembered that Billy and he had been invited to stay at the 
arena owner’s house because the owner had something to give to him in the 
morning.  He now found himself laying on a very uncomfortable sofa and then 
saw that Billy was laying next to the sofa on the hard floor below him.  He 
also awoke to the smells of food coming from the kitchen which was only a few 
steps away.  Without stepping on Billy, he got up and walked over to the 
kitchen. His head was only inches from the ceiling of the small Mexican 
house. He was only wearing his white briefs which fit like a second skin over 
his gorgeous muscular butt and did little to hide his morning woody.  


He stood in the doorway of the kitchen and just grinned as he viewed a small 
portly Mexican grand-mother working feverishly over a hot stove with all the 
burners going making breakfast.  She caught him out of the corner of her eye 
and turned around to look at the big man.  She had never seen a man as tall 
or as massive as this goliath standing in the doorway...and she exclaimed her 
surprise in an unintelligible language but he knew exactly what she meant and 
it caused him to smile just a bit.  


Just then, he heard the front door open and he turned his head in that 
direction.  It was the owner of the arena carrying a large gym bag which he 
placed on the short coffee table in the living room, "Anabolicos," he said 
smiling at the Bouncer.  The Bouncer knew what that meant but it seemed 
unbelievable since the gym bag was so large.  As the Bouncer approached the 
bag, Billy began to wake up, "Hey, what’s up?" The Bouncer picked up the bag, 
"I think," he said hesitatingly, "there might be some juice in this gym bag."
 As he unzipped the gym bag, he couldn’t believe his own eyes.  He’d never 
seen so much juice in his life at one time!  The Bouncer and Billy looked 
into the bag with amazement but something wasn’t quite right.  The juice that 
was in the bag looked different from the normal stuff that Billy used to 
bring back on his trips to the farmacias. Billy asked the arena owner about 
it and he explained that this was not the same low-grade anabolicos that are 
normally sold by the farmacias but the highest quality...and a gift for 
Tuesday’s executions from the drug lords who would bring in their 
informant-turn-coats for the Bouncer to punish.  This would be in addition to
 the $5,000 per head that the Bouncer would receive for sadistically snuffing 
out the drug informants.


Billy didn’t even attempt to hide the gym bag in the car except to put it in 
the trunk as it was just too large to fit in any of the normal hiding places. 
 They also placed his stash of "happy powder" in the trunk.  The arena owner 
would give the Bouncer a ride to the border separately so as not to draw 
attention to Billy’s vehicle.  They all knew that if the Bouncer were in the 
same car as the juice, they would surely be pulled over and searched.  The 
plan worked perfectly as Billy sailed through customs in his car and the 
Bouncer, walking through the border crossing, was immediately stopped and 
thoroughly searched, smiling all the time knowing that they would find 
nothing on him.  


When they arrived back in Oceanside, it was still early afternoon.  The big 
monster couldn’t wait to load up his syringes with this new growth juice and 
he was so excited by the quality and variety that he almost couldn’t make his 
mind up which to choose from and how much...there seemed no limits on the 
amount of size he could put on now.  He loaded up three syringes with 
different "flavors" and then he found a couple of bottles of different orals 
to take.  He felt like a kid in a candy shop!  After he had fully juiced 
himself to the gills, he swallowed down a cup of java for extra drive, 
grabbed his regular workout gym bag, and walked down to the neighborhood gym 
where he commenced to having the best leg workout he’d ever had.  


The gym was nearly empty, which was just the way the Bouncer liked it.  As he 
went through his leg workout, he thought back to the roar of the crowds as 
they cheered and sometimes laughed at the way he crushed his two opponents 
and snuffed out their little worthless lives.  He was so motivated now that 
weights that were normally heavy seemed like nothing to him.  As he added 
even more weight to the squat rack, something caught his eye.  On the other 
side of the room, doing curls and facing the mirror, was the most gorgeous 
bodied symmetrical young man he’d ever seen.  He wasn’t your typical 
"pretty-boy" or gym-fairy either.  He had an extremely masculine and handsome 
face with a very full and well developed beefy body to match.  Like the 
Bouncer, he also wore spandex tights that wrapped around his solid muscle 
butt like a second skin and an old ragged muscle shirt to show off his delts 
and arms.  Across the front of his muscle shirt were the letters "USMC" which 
made the Bouncer smile as the young man looked like a Marine too.  The 
younger man was shorter than the Bouncer, around 6’5" and weighed in the 
neighborhood of 260 pounds or so compared to the Bouncer’s tall frame of 
6’10" and massive weight of 360 pounds, but certainly a serious lifter.


The Bouncer turned back to his squat rack, angrily.  What the hell was he 
thinking!?  He was there to get huge, not stare at gorgeous butts on built 
men.  Besides, how would he ever meet that man anyway?  They were two men in 
the same room, but the Bouncer knew they came from different worlds even if 
they did have the Marine Corps in common.  He shook it off and continued to 
do his power squats with tremendous momentum.  He continued his workout 
trying not to look at the other guy but it was not easy.  After he was done 
with squats, he moved over to the leg extension machine.  As he sat down, he 
looked into the mirror in front of him and saw the reflection of the young 
man looking right back at him - both had been caught in the act of staring at 
each other. And both quickly turned away as if they had been caught with 
their hands in the cookie jar. The Bouncer started his set of leg extensions. 
 His quads were full of blood and fully pumped already.  When he finished his 
first set, he noticed the young man walking over toward him; you could see 
fear and respect in his eyes as he approached the huge man. "Hi," was all he 
said.  The Bouncer replied, "Hi," back. "Man, I hope I'm not bothering you 
but I just wanted to tell you how impressed I am.  There's not many men in 
this gym bigger than me so when I saw you, I just felt like..." The Bouncer 
interrupted him, "Yeah, you're pretty big yourself."  The young man stopped 
and smiled, "Thanks." There was a silent pause and then the young man held 
out his hand, "My name's Butch."  The Bouncer smiled, "Yeah?  Mine name's 
Bouncer."  They both sort of laughed, "Well, my real name is Martin but I 
hate going by that name and don't even answer to it."  "I have a real name 
too but I've forgotten what it was on purpose."  Realizing that he was 
interrupting the Bouncer's workout, he politely excused himself, "Well, I 
just thought I'd come by and say hi.  Uhmmm, I'll let you get back to your 
workout.  Maybe we can train sometime together or something."  The Bouncer 
didn't know what to say and simply responded, "Yeah." He continued his next 
set of leg extensions and watched as Butch packed up his gym bag with his 
weight belt and gloves and headed out the door.  He also noticed him turn and 
look back at the Bouncer, but continued on out the door.  It was an awkward 
moment for both of them.  The Bouncer had always considered the gym as a 
haven from the outside world and not a place to pick up tricks so this was 
all new to him.  And he certainly didn't consider Butch to be a trick.  As 
the Bouncer walked home, he couldn’t take his mind off the guy in the gym who 
made him lose his concentration for the first time.  


The next day, Billy and he drove down into TJ again. As they entered the old 
warehouse, the arena was half empty.  Only two sets of bleachers had been 
full while the other side was completely empty.  The owner knew the Bouncer 
liked to play to an audience so they filled up two of the bleacher areas and 
left the others empty.  Some of the men in the audience were well dressed and 
were obviously in charge of the drug operations.  The remaining were mainly 
hench-men, drug-manufacturing men, and smugglers.  They were all there for 
two reasons; to see four informants receive their punishments and to show the 
others what will happen to them if they did the same. 


The bouncer was wearing his tight white tank top that had "BOUNCER" 
emblazoned on the front and back.  He also had on a pair of dark red spandex 
shorts.  His black singlet that he wore the last time was still soaking in 
soapy water trying to get out all of the blood from the last matches.  As he 
walked into the main area of the arena, the crowd began to cheer wildly 
except for four men standing between some of the bleacher seats and 
restrained by 5 or 6 of the floormen.  The four snitches were in complete awe 
and fear as they saw the big monster enter the room.  The four punks had been 
told of the Sunday night beatings and the way the bouncer enjoyed slowly 
killing off his two opponents and, even though they had been told how big the 
monster was, they really had no idea how truly big a 6’10, 360 pound walking 
muscle freak killer would look like-until they saw him with their unbelieving 
eyes!


Billy told the owner that the Bouncer would need to "prepare" himself 
mentally for the slaughter and wanted to know if he could use his office.  
The owner happily obliged.  Billy and the Bouncer went into the office and 
shut the door behind them so the Bouncer could pull out his happy powder.  As 
before, he poured out a small line and took a small straw and inhaled it up 
into his brain.  He closed his eyes and began to think about the four men who 
he was going to have for supper.  He knew he was facing a challenge.  It 
wasn’t that he had any doubt he could snuff out all four of them at the same 
time without breaking a sweat.  The challenge was in putting on a performance 
for his very select audience.  He had to think of four very brutal and 
sadistic ways to beat each of the punks up without killing them too quickly 
and then four brutal ways in finishing up their lives that his audience would 
enjoy. After all, they were paying five grand a piece and they expected a 
good show.  Quick deaths were easy; long punishing deaths required a bit more 
creativity.


His thoughts reflected back to some of his prior street victims.  How he bent 
one over and kneeded him unmercifully in the abs while holding his head in 
his bicep vice hold.  And then pulling the neck up quickly and snapping it.  
He began to remember so many of the ways he brutalized some of the bar 
patrons and even though he didn’t kill a lot of them because there would be 
too many witnesses, he always took it as far as he felt he could.  And then 
he thought of his first killing, at the age of 17 when he first killed his 
first victim.  A smile came upon his face as he began to realize this wasn't 
going to be much of a challenge for him afterall and that he would love every 
minute of it!


A gentle knock came to the door.  Billy answered it.  It was the arena owner, 
nervously telling Billy that the Drug Lords were ready for the show.  Our 
champion was ready.  He pulled out his old friends, the metal-tipped black 
gloves, from the gym bag and put them on.  He started to take off his white 
BOUNCER tank top but then changed his mind and tucked it back into his 
spandex shorts.  He took a deep breath which expanded his rib cage.  He 
flexed his lats and looked into the mirror on the wall just to admire himself 
one final time before going "on stage".  He smiled largely because he liked 
the image of his massive and muscular body staring back at him and he liked 
the look of intimidation that the black gloves added to his prowess.  He 
loved to inflict fear first and pain later; he was the ultimate 
death-inflicting machine.  Having been satisfied with what he saw, he then 
turned to the door and proceeded toward the arena.


As he approached the ring, the floormen had already placed his first victim 
into the ring.  He nervously watched as the huge monster of death approached 
the ring.  The crowd began to cheer for their sadistic vengeance machine as 
he strode past them.  Some of those in the crowd cheered nervously since they 
knew that this is what fate had in store for them should they ever get caught 
taking money from both sides.  He pulled himself on to the mat of the 
squared-circle and just stepped over the top rope with ease.  The poor 
bastard in the ring could do nothing but simply look up at the man. He was 
the biggest man he had ever scene before; taller, more muscular, and 
certainly more meaner-looking than anything he had ever dreamed of before. 
The floormen had been told that if one of the four informants tried to escape 
that, under no circumstances were they to shoot him or kill him but to 
capture him and bring him back into the ring.  The drug lords expected the 
poor bastards to run for their lives so the entire ring had been encircled 
with floormen to catch any of the four men if they tried to leave the 
ring...alive.


The Bouncer stood there, like a mountain of raging and unruly flesh just 
looking at the punk he was about to pulverize.  He grabbed the top of his 
tank top with both hands and just ripped it slowly down the center tearing it 
open and taking it off.  He tossed it out of the ring and at the owner who 
joyfully picked it up from the floor and held it like a treasure.  To him, 
the big monster was truly a hero and he was a hero worshipper.  



The mountain of enormous muscle then looked at his puny victim and further 
intimidated him by showing him his most-muscular pose and his veins began to 
pop out of his arms and chest and his traps looked like mountains on top of 
his shoulders.  The eyes of his poor victim were now truly wide as he began 
to shake his head left and right in disbelief that anyone could get this 
freaky-huge.  The big man leaned over slightly and said, "Come on you little 
punk!  Give me all ya got!"  The punk instead decided to try his luck on the 
outside of the ring and slipped through the ropes and on to the floor.  He 
was immediately grabbed by the floormen who simply picked him up and carried 
him to the floor of the ring and pushed him back in.  



Seeing that his victim wasn’t going to go willingly, the Bouncer stepped over 
to the traitor and, with his right hand, grabbed him by the hair and pulled 
so hard on the hair that the pain was instantly unbearable.  He pulled him 
completely up from the ground without any effort at all and raised him into 
the air holding only his hair.  The victim began to squirm and plead for 
mercy as the pain seemed to only get worse.  The Bouncer held him in the air 
like a fisherman would hold his catch for the day and walked him around the 
ring as the poor bastard tried to take swings at his opponent and kick him 
with his dangling legs-none of which even phased the mountain of muscle.  The 
Bouncer then went to the center of the ring and threw the poor bastard into 
the middle of the ropes where he bounced off and came flying back toward the 
center of the ring.  The Bouncer extended his right arm out and the informant 
rammed into it as if he were running into a clothesline made of steel. The 
punk landed flat on his back while the big monster stood over him and just 
laughed.  The crowd laughed as well.


He reached down and grabbed a clump of his hair and pulled the punk up from 
the ground.  He grabbed a hold of his left arm with his right arm and flung 
him into one of the corner turnbuckles-but before the big man could get over 
to him he bounced off the turnbuckle and fell to the ground.  The Bouncer 
went flying into an empty turnbuckle making the ring itself move a few 
inches.   Now the Bouncer was PISSED, "You son of a bitch!  I'll teach you 
how to fall down!" He pulled him up by his neck with his right arm and then 
grabbed him by the waist with his left arm and hoisted him into the air.  The 
poor punk was dazed but knew he was far higher than god had ever meant him to 
be!  The Bouncer then quickly went down on one knee and literally bounced the 
guy off of it! "CRAAAAACK!" The punk's back could be heard cracking 
throughout the arena.  The audience went crazy!


The punk was screaming in pain and begging for mercy in Spanish to the big 
guy who spoke none of it but understood the language of pleading as he had 
heard it so many times before from other victims who became his pleasure.  He 
pulled the writhing body up from the mat and, this time, walked him over to 
the side ropes and tied his poor little victim in the top two ropes so he 
would stay put.  He held his victim's head cupped in his hands-and looked at 
the audience, "Wanna watch me kick his guts out!?"  The audience, many of 
whom could speak at least a little bit of English, roared with approval.  The 
big man looked down as he raised the head of his opponent so he could stare 
him in the face, "This is gonna be FUN!!!  I'm gonna make you cough up your 
GUTS!" "No, Senor!" the poor fuck pleaded.


The big man stood back a few feet and then using his powerful muscular legs 
thrust his boot into the fat stomach of the informant almost sending his boot 
out the other side and letting out a yell as he did so, "YEAHH!"  He kicked 
him again with his right boot but this time concentrating even harder to make 
his kick even more powerful.."YEAAAAAHHH!"  Blood and vomit came spurting out 
of the punks mouth and landing on the mat, barely missing our champion. The 
Bouncer began to laugh an evil sadistic laugh. He looked at his gloves and 
felt it was time to put them to work.  Using all of the power of his 
shoulders and lats, he began to power punch the little shit in the stomach 
and chest area, bursting internal organs and smashing ribs.  Then he started 
on the jaw of the poor fucker.  He remembered how the last audience loved 
watching the teeth fall out of one of his opponents the last time, so being 
careful not to smash in the skull, he began punching him in the 
jaw..."YEAHHHH!" he said as he slammed punches using his metal tipped gloves 
into the punks mouth, shattering the jaw into pieces and causing massive 
amounts of blood to come flowing like water down the side of mountain. 


The three remaining informants couldn't believe their eyes as they watched 
the carnage in the ring.  They all hoped that they would go last and that, 
just perhaps this huge monster would tire himself out.  Of course, they 
didn't know about the speed he was on nor did they take into account how much 
he enjoyed his work!



The Bouncer stopped throwing jabs into the jaw and, just as before, the teeth 
came flowing out mixed in with the blood.  The audience went wild as the 
Bouncer stood back and laughed at the scene he had created.  He looked at the 
audience and received their thunderous approval.  He unwrapped the arms from 
the ropes and let the poor bastard drop to the ground.  He pulled him back up 
by the neck and, again, hoisted him up into the air.  This time, he carried 
him near the center of the ring-just a little off center.  Taking aim at the 
center of the ring, he used his powerful muscles to slam the poor shit into 
the center of the ring, where he knew he could get the best bounce from the 
mat.  Predictably, the guy hit the mat with a huge thud and bounced a few 
feet off the mat!  "Hehehehehe" the bouncer said as he watched his victim 
finally land. The poor fuck started to twitch on the mat as his nervous 
system began to shatter.  He picked the punk up again and, again, raised him 
up over his head...he wasn't called The Bouncer for nothing!  This time, with 
even more power and fury, he flung his victim into the mat again! This time, 
he bounced even higher!  "HEHEHEHE!"  and the crowd went wild with laughter. 
 They were truly enjoying it.  



At this point, he realized the poor shit was nearly gone...and he didn't want 
him to die without putting on a good show.  He pulled him by his hair and 
dragged him back to the middle of the ring putting the guy on his stomach, 
face down.  He straddled him and then placed his huge knees onto the shoulder 
blades of the victim, so as to pin him down.  He then grabbed either side of 
the punks head and face with his huge hands.  The Bouncer then looked at the 
other three remaining punks, "WHO'S NEXT!?" With that, he gave a quick and 
powerful pull on the head and "SNAAAAAP!" and killed the little fuck. 
"YEAAAAHHHH!" he roared, like a lion sitting on his kill.  He was breathing 
heavy and shook with a slight sadistic joy and released his grip on the head 
and watched it as it plopped on the mat like so much dead weight.  


Seeing that no one was going to volunteer to be his next victim, the Bouncer 
pointed angrily at one of the remaining three, "Come on you little shit!  
Time to kick your ass!"  The floormen immediately grabbed the intended and 
reluctant victim and pulled him toward the ring, "No!  No!" he screamed as he 
struggled to get loose.  Seeing the trouble the floormen were having, the 
Bouncer went to the side of the ring and leaned over the top rope and grabbed 
the poor fucker by the hair and, literally pulled him up off the ground, 
"AAAAIIEEIIEE!!!!" he shouted as the pain was so intense.  With very little 
effort, the Bouncer hoisted him up into the air and over the top ropes with 
his right arm, released his grip, and plopped him into the ring.  The 
reluctant shit fell to the mat and grabbed his scalp which was now in some 
serious pain.  "Come on!  Get up you little shit!" yelled the Bouncer at him. 
 The punk was scared and started to get to his knees but not fast enough for 
the Bouncer.  As he was getting up on his knees, the Bouncer round house 
kicked him square in the face with his boot sending him flying to the other 
side of the ring.  Immediately, his nose began to bleed.  The punk was 
obviously a wimp who had never seen the sight of his own blood before. He 
wiped his blood from his nose and started to panic-only adding to the delight 
of the Bouncer-he needed to put on a good show and this guy was only helping 
him!  The Bouncer laughed at the poor punk, "HAHAHA!" and he walked over to 
the guy and picked him up by the neck, "Now, let's put on a good show, boy!" 
and he flung him into the ropes on the opposite side of the ring. As he 
bounced back toward the center of the ring, he landed the bottom of his foot 
into the punks face and like a whiplash, the guy went down to the mat...the 
Bouncer just laughed...he was truly enjoying his workout tonight.  He picked 
him up from the mat again and held him by his bloodied shirt with his left 
arm as his right hand cocked back and made a fist.  The poor punk knew what 
was coming next.  His nose was already broken...but now it was going to be 
crushed into tiny pieces.  The Bouncer pulled back his fist and then, with 
all the strength of his huge shoulders and massive arms, he let go a punch 
which sent the fucker flying backwards into the  ropes grabbing his smashed 
up nose!  The Bouncer saw an opportunity for more fun and sent his right boot 
into his abs, making the guy keel over in pain.  The Bouncer then propped him 
upright against the ropes and proceeded to punch out his stomach.  There was 
so much blood coming from the mans face that he couldn't tell if it was 
coming from his nose or his mouth!  He then took him over to the corner of 
the ring but this time, instead of tieing him up with the ropes, he draped 
the guy over the top rope at his chest so that he was holding on to the rope 
and staring back at the drug lords.  The Bouncer then pulls up the punk's 
right leg and positioned it on the middle rope of the other side so that it 
would lay almost straight.  The Bouncer then went to the opposite end of the 
ring and ran across the ring and did a side twisting jump and landed squarely 
across the knee of the shit and breaks his leg in two.  "CRAAAAACK!" The poor 
fucker was now in more than just pain..."AAAAIIIEEEEEE!!!" he screamed as the 
drug lords looked on with laughter and revenge for this traitor.  The Bouncer 
looked at the drug lords and knew he was giving them their monies worth.  



The poor fucker landed on the mat and tried to crawl around on his one good 
leg while the Bouncer walked around him, as if to savor the moment and to 
survey the damage while thinking up another way to punish the little fucker. 
 The Bouncer then got onto the mat himself and pulled the little shit in 
between his HUGE muscular thighs so that the punk faced the ceiling of the 
arena.  The poor shit tried to squirm his way free but it was already too 
late.  The Bouncer placed him in a scissor-lock between his thighs.  He could 
feel the tight lock of the thighs of the big man around his back and his 
chest.  The Bouncer started to squeeze ever so slightly on the punk and 
watched as the punk continued  to squirm.  The poor fucker could feel the 
power of those huge quads squeezing down tighter and tighter and he could 
feel his ribs being forced together.  Watching the punk squirm made the 
Bouncer smile with delight... "Hehehehe, this is gonna be fun!"   "Aiiiieee, 
Nooooooo!!!!" the punk screamed as he tried to get loose of the mighty death 
grip of the Bouncer's huge quads.  Then, the Bouncer applied the squeeze a 
little tighter as the punk squirmed with more desperation to free himself.  
The Bouncer looked out of the ring at the owner of the arena who was 
completely beside himself with joy and smiling sadistically at his hero.  The 
poor fucker turned his head toward the Bouncer to plead for mercy one last 
time but it was too late as the Bouncer wasn’t looking at him anymore.  He 
could feel the pressure becoming even greater as the Bouncer’s powerful quads 
closed in tighter and tighter. The Bouncer then closed his eyes and applied 
even more pressure on the man's rib cage..and from every corner of the arena, 
over the shouts and hollers of the crowd, could be heard, "CRAAAAACK! 
CRAAAAACK CRAAAAK! CRAAAACK!" as the ribs of the poor fuck came crushing into 
each other.  The little punk's cries were muffled by the blood spewing from 
his mouth.  In a second, the punk stopped moving and his eyes were still and 
staring blankly toward the ceiling.  The Bouncer opened his eyes to see the 
lifeless body trapped in his deadly scissor lock.  "OH FUCK!" the Bouncer 
exclaimed, as he hadn't meant to finish him off this early.   He let loose of 
the body and threw it off of him like the sack of shit that it was.  He 
looked to the drug lords who seemed to be thrilled with the execution, but 
the Bouncer was not.  But, he still had two more victims to finish off.


This time, the floormen did not wait for a volunteer to jump into the ring.  
They simply grabbed the next victim and carried him towards the ring and 
picked him up and dumped him into the pit of death with the king of sadistic 
punishment.  The Bouncer was totally worked up now and really mad about the 
last performance.  He wasted no time in pulling the guy up from the mat and 
throwing him into the corner turnbuckle with tremendous power and fury.  The 
guy flung into the corner and could feel his back cracking.  The Bouncer took 
his intended victim and picked up his body and rested the punks torso on his 
massive right shoulder and pulled him close into his own body.  Then, he 
turned around toward the center of the ring and then, with great speed and 
power, BODYSLAMED him onto the canvas with all of his 360 pounds of muscle 
landing on him.  The victim had his wind knocked completely out of him.  He 
was sure he had some broken ribs but he seemed to be numb with pain.  Without 
resting, the Bouncer picked up the guy by the neck and by the legs and 
hoisted him up into the air.  This time, the punishment would be unrelenting 
and seriously sadistic and cruel.  It would also show how truly strong the 
big giant was.  He carried him over to one of the corner turnbuckles and 
looked like he was going to throw him outside of the ring, but that would 
have been far too easy and, besides, he'd already done that trick enough 
times.  Instead, he looked carefully at the metal pole on the outside of the 
ring which held the ropes and, with ease began to use the punk as a hammer 
driving home an immovable nail, WHAM, WHAM, WHAM, shattering and breaking the 
spine and puncturing and pulverizing every internal organ the man had and he 
continued, WHAM WHAM WHAM!  



Finally, he released his hold and let the man fall outside of the ring onto 
the concrete floor below.  Immediately, the floormen went to grab the punk so 
they could toss him back into the ring when the Bouncer said, "No!  Leave him 
alone!" and waived them away.  The floormen immediately and fearingly obeyed. 
 The Bouncer stepped over the top rope and jumped down to the concrete floor. 
 The punk was in complete agony and pleading for help from the 
sadistic-loving crowd and enjoyed seeing revenge being inflicted upon him.  
From his mouth and nose came a constant flow of his warm blood from his 
internal organs that had been smashed against his now broken ribs and smashed 
back bone.


The Bouncer then straddled his victim as he lay on his stomach unaware that 
the Bouncer was over him.  He kneeled down over the man but didn't pin him 
down this time, as he had done the last time.  He carefully placed his left 
hand over the back of the man's head and then placed his right hand over his 
left hand.  He looked at the owner of the arena and gave a sadistic smile and 
showed that death was in his eyes.   He looked down at his victim, writhing 
in pain on the cold concrete floor...and with the power of his 
massive-striated triceps he pushed down on the skull of the man.  You could 
here two sounds, one quickly followed by the other.  You could hear the 
CRAAACK of his skull being crushed and then you could hear SQUUUUIIIISH as 
his brain was squished under the power of the mighty man and seemed to come 
out from every hole of the man's head.  The big man looked up at the fourth 
victim and, with a sadistic laughter, "You're next, PUNK!" For some in the 
audience, this was too much as they turned their heads at the site of brains 
being squished out of the skull like toothpaste from a tube while others, 
including the drug lords loved it and cheered on.


The Bouncer got up from his victim and walked over to the fresh meat who was 
waiting to be cooked by this monster.  His eyes looked up at the big man as 
he approached and got wider and wider, "No, NO!  NO SENOR!" he cried as the 
big man came closer to him.  But that only provided more thrill-for-the-kill 
for the big man and he grabbed the man by the shirt and threw him onto the 
mat and through the ropes.  The Bouncer stepped up onto the mat and then 
stepped over the top rope.  The poor fuck quickly got up on his feet as if 
he’s going to try to protect himself in someway from the beating he was about 
to take.  



The big man approached his prey like a lion and with a look of hunger on his 
face...a hunger for sadistic and brutal punishment.  He grabbed the man and 
flung him into the ropes but, unfortunately, instead of bouncing back toward 
the center of the ring, he slipped through the ropes and flew out onto the 
concrete floor in front of one of the two the empty stands.  The Bouncer 
looked disappointed since he was hoping to smash the bottom of his boot into 
the guy’s face when he bounced off the ropes.  Now he would have to go 
outside of the ring to inflict his pain. He stepped over the top rope and 
jumped down to the concrete floor below.  As the little man watched the 
muscle-freak approaching, he looked up at him, as if he were looking up at a 
god.  He grabbed the little man by the hair and flung him into the hard metal 
empty bleachers head first.  The poor fuck hit with an awesome force and felt 
he had dislocated his shoulder...that would soon be the least of his pains.
The big man pulled the punk up from the bleachers by his hair and flung him 
further up the empty bleachers face first into the brick wall.  The punk 
immediately felt blood flowing from his nose but didn't have time to do much 
but wipe it onto his hands as the big man pulled him up by his neck and put 
his back up against the wall.  They were high enough up on the bleachers so 
that the entire arena could watch, though the lighting wasn't very good.  
Still they could easily see what he was doing.


With his left hand, the Bouncer propped him up against the brick wall on the 
top step of the bleachers while he was one row beneath.  Still, he towered 
over the little punk.  The Bouncer took his right leg back and then sent it 
powering into the punk's mid-section.  The man had nowhere to go since his 
back was pinned up against the brick wall.  The Bouncer still held on to his 
neck so he couldn't bend over from pain.  He reeled back with his right arm 
and sent a powerful blow to the man's stomach quickly followed by another 
knee to the mid-section.  Then, he sent a powerful right fist into the poor 
fucker's face...his head pounded into the brick wall.  The punk was now 
bleeding from his nose and his mouth and was nearly unconscious.  



The Bouncer then grabbed him by the head and pulled him forward and sent him 
tumbling down the metal bleacher seats toward the concrete floor, bouncing 
off of the many rows of seats in the bleachers.  The crowd loved it and the 
Bouncer enjoyed watching the man "bounce" off the seats and plop solidly onto 
the floor.  The crowd could see the sadistic grin on the Bouncer's face as he 
stepped down the row's of the bleachers toward his intended victim.  The 
sound of the planks bending under the weight of the huge man as he stepped 
downward could be heard throughout the arena and sounded like a giant 
approaching the little punk laying on the cold concrete floor.  



The poor fuck on the floor was in tremendous pain as he felt his insides 
bursting from the powerful quads that had slammed them and the punch to his 
stomach.  His face was in tremendous pain and he felt the back of his head 
feel like it had been rammed with bat.  He could hear the big man's steps 
coming closer and closer toward him but he knew now that it was futile to 
even try to get up.  He could only hope that he would be killed off soon-but 
that was not to be!



The Bouncer realized that he still hadn't broken the man's back... "what kind 
of a beating would it be without breaking his back bone into a million little 
pieces?" he thought.  A smile came across his face as he thought of a way 
that would entertain the crowd.  He picked up the punk from the ground by the 
scruff of his neck.  He then picked up the lower half of his body and pulled 
the man toward him so that the punk faced him and was somewhat cradled in his 
arms and against the muscle-man’s torso.  He then carried the man to the 
front of the ring as if he were carrying a sack of potatoes.  He brought him 
to the steel pole at the corner of the ring so that both of the occupied 
bleachers could see his performance.  


This particular corner of the ring faced the walkway which lead to the gym 
and dressing areas of the arena. The big man walked down the path carrying 
his puny victim as if he were going to leave the arena when, all of a sudden, 
he turned around to face the steel pole of the ring.  He looked at the pole 
with a sadistic grin and pulled the poor fucker up closer to his chest.  It 
was now apparent to everyone that he was going to use the poor bastard as a 
battering ram against the steel post.  The little guy began to drift in and 
out of consciousness but he knew that he was being held in the mighty grasp 
of the big man and he could feel his powerful muscles against his own body.  
The Bouncer yelled out "YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHH" as he began to run toward 
the steel pole, picking up momentum, carrying the poor fuck with him-in front 
of him-and with the weight of his 360 pound body he slammed that poor shit’s 
back into the pole, with a force so powerful that it moved the ring a foot.  
His back snapped in two and made a tremendous cracking sound which was 
quickly followed by the pain-filled screams of the informant 
"AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!"  But the Bouncer did not let loose of his hold though it 
was now harder to hold the man up since his spine was in two pieces.  
Instead, he smashed his back again against the edge of the mat, 
"AAAAAAAEEEEEEIIIII!!!" the informant screamed. 


Finally the Bouncer dropped his intended kill to the concrete floor.  The man 
landed face down and was crying and pleading for mercy...asking to be killed 
quickly.  Someone in the audience translated the request to the Bouncer who 
smiled and shook his head...mercy from the Bouncer was never an option and 
requests for mercy only compounded the desire to increase the pain.  



The Bouncer put his big right boot firmly onto the center of the punk’s back 
and then picked up each arm with his own.  At first, the punk couldn’t figure 
out what the massive giant was going to do but it soon became too painfully 
obvious.  The big man stood over his prey gripping both of the punks arms 
tightly and then he began to pull...slowly...but even slowly was painful as
 the informant felt his arms being pulled out of their sockets and the big 
boot keeping him pinned to the concrete floor.  Slowly, but with increased 
power, the Bouncer pulled on the arms causing tremendous pain.  The audience 
gathered around more closely so they could get a better look.  Finally, the 
muscle giant gave a hearty pull on the arms and "SNAAAP!" followed quickly by 
another "SNAAAAAP!" as both arms were pulled out of their sockets.  The 
informant shook in severe pain as the Bouncer continued to hold on to the 
arms. 


The Bouncer looked at his victim as he held the limp limbs in his mighty 
hands and, with a sadistic grin on his face, continued pulling the arms 
upward while pinning the body down with his boot.  Then, with one powerful 
pull using the strength of his mighty shoulders and powerful biceps, he 
ripped the arms of the punk completely off causing massive amounts of blood 
to come gushing out of the sockets.  The poor bastard screamed, 
"AAAAAAAIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!" The crowd reacted to this in many different ways; 
some laughed, others turned their heads; a few even puked, but most cheered 
the Bouncer on as if he had accomplished exactly what they wanted to see.  
But the punk was still alive and now needed to be finished off.  The Bouncer 
dropped the arms that he was holding to the ground as if they were worthless 
tree branches and stepped up so that his left leg pinned the punk down 
because he was now squirming furiously on the ground.  Looking down at the 
head, he raised his right leg up.  He took careful aim, centering his boot 
over the head and then, SLAM! He stomped on the head like a coconut and 
crushed the skull and smashed the brains into mush and they oozed out of 
every opening.  He stood on top of his kill and looked out at the crowd...as 
if to say to each of the men he looked at thinking, "You're next asshole!"



The Bouncer and Billy then headed back to the changing room so the Bouncer 
could wash off all of the blood.  The Bouncer took off his blood-stained 
shorts and bloodied boots and gloves and handed them to Billy so he could 
take them to the sink and clean them up.  The Bouncer then jumped into the 
shower to wash off the remains of his hard, but enjoyable, day at work.  
After the shower, the Bouncer saw the arena owner standing with a huge wad of 
cash..$20,000 in $100 bills.  It seemed too good to be true-but there it was. 
 Also standing in the room was a naked young man..a present from the owner to 
the Bouncer for him to fuck and then kill-off as he had done previously.  The 
Bouncer, unexplainably however, wasn't interested in the final kill as he was 
before-and waved the young man out of the room.  The young man was perplexed, 
even disappointed, as he knew he wouldn't get his pay if he didn't accomplish 
his job not knowing, of course, that the owner had intended for the Bouncer 
to kill him off before he could get paid anyway.


The owner was also disappointed and angrily told the young man to get out of 
the room when the Bouncer stopped him, "Wait a minute."  The Bouncer grabbed 
the stack of hundred dollar bills and handed one to him, "Now get the fuck 
out of here."  The owner was truly perplexed and asked Billy what was going 
on.  Billy replied simply that the Bouncer didn't feel like fucking anyone 
that night.  The owner finally accepted it and nodded.  He then began to talk 
to Billy about the matches for next Sunday and asked if the Bouncer would be 
available.  Billy knew that the Bouncer loved his work and quickly told the 
arena owner that they would be back for the matches.  The Bouncer continued 
to get dressed and then, he and Billy drove back across the border, 
surprisingly without incident.  Billy told the Bouncer about the next week's 
matches ...but something else was on his mind.