Muscles In Trouble

DREAM BREAKER:

Being called into the boss’s office usually means one of two things: either you’ve done your job really well and you’re in for some praise, maybe even a raise, or you’re going to get chewed out and maybe even fired. I worked as an architect-engineer, and I admit that I was slacking off occasionally, so I don't think the invitation had anything to do with a raise.

I didn’t know the boss very well; I’d only seen him a few times in passing. He seemed strict, and there was even an aggressive look on his face when he ordered the men to work faster—a real sunshine, indeed. Rumor had it that the guy was a former Marine who’d been kicked out for disobedience and that he’d apparently beaten a superior officer so badly the officer ended up in the hospital. Some of the men even claimed that the officer had eventually died. I took the yellow hard hat off my head as I climbed the stairs to the boss’s office, gathered my courage for a moment, and finally knocked on the door with confidence.

MUSCLE MARINE:

"Ah. There is the new engineer on the field. Come on in Alex. We got lots to talk about you and I." Pointing to the chair in front of my desk, I watch you walk up slowly and take a seat. Although you are confident and ooze masculinity differently than the rest of the team, I can still smell fear in you - almost like you are unsure why I called you here. And that is perfect for me. I love when the employees walk into my office with that certain humbleness and toned down attitude. I have worked well to create that domineering aura and assert myself anywhere I go - and I do it heavily. Just imagine it like casting concrete onto someone, crushing him, making him understand who is the real boss.

DREAM BREAKER:

You look exactly as I had imagined. Although your words are polite, there is an icy coldness to them, added by the cold, even threatening, look in your eyes. But I straighten my back in front of you, letting the shadow cast by my broad shoulders fall across your face. I don’t want my insecurity to show, even though I suspect you’ve noticed it. “You asked me to come here. Is there anything I can do to help?” I look you in the eyes with a polite smile, running my hand over my ripped abs as I speak. I notice how you’re following my every move with your eyes.

MUSCLE MARINE:

"I got your quotation. Ran through your numbers. Quite the estimate you've presented... a bit over the top, wouldn't you say?" I keep reading the proposal for the material purchase, my eyes looking at the paper, waiting for your interjection or reply. I know you are going to flare up anytime now. "I have cut some of the funding. We need to get this done soon and with less expenses." Putting you in a pickle. The last architect-engineer who took the job couldn't handle the conditions I put him in, and ended up "quitting" the job... and rather "plastered".

DREAM BREAKER:

"With all respect, boss, how on earth do you think we could finish the job with less expenses, cutting the funds where we need them mostly?", I keep my voice low and controlled as I step closer to you, without letting you see even the slightest hint of uncertainty in me. "You might would like to check out your numbers again, perhaps pay a visit to the construction site and see yourself what I mean". I take the file from your hand and throw it on your desk. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid that the pants of your fancy, expensive suit will get stained by concrete dirt,” I grin, then quickly regain a serious expression.

MUSCLE MARINE:

"Watch your tone with me. Remember who I am around here. And who signs your payslip at the end of the month." I slam my hands on the desk, and get up, facing you, eye to eye. "I will not tolerate another outburst like that." I grab the paper and dangle it in your face. "This is your budget. Now show me how good you are at what you do."

DREAM BREAKER:

"Very well then, boss. We do what you say. And don't you worry, I can make it work out with less money. If we're done here, then excuse me, I have work to do." I turn my back to you and leave your office without looking back. Closing the door behind me, I take a few deep breaths, count to ten, and return back to the site. At least he didn't fire me.

Over the next few days, I explore ways to stay on schedule and maintain the required standards at a lower cost. I take a closer look at the processes at the various stations and carry out quality control. I’m particularly concerned about the quality of the concrete. Work has already finished at the massive concrete mill, and the workers are heading toward their locker rooms. The mill is clean; no old mixture remains inside that could compromise the cement’s quality the next day. Suddenly, my gaze is drawn to stains on the inner walls of the mill that aren’t from the cement mixture. “Blood? Did someone cut their hand here? Inside the mill?” As I examine the mill more closely, I notice the same stains that look like fingerprints on its outer edge as well, as if someone had tried to climb out from inside the mill. “That’s really strange; I don’t think a single accident has been reported,” I say to myself.

MUSCLE MARINE:

Its closing time and I head out of my office, locking up. I stand a couple of seconds on my high platform over looking most of the site and the plot under... scanning my "empire". I spot in the distance the light coming out of your office container. The young architect must be hard at work crunching numbers. As I walk down the stairs leading to the parking lot, I look into your office window from afar and our eyes meet. I smile at you and nod before continuing my descent and leaving the premises.

DREAM BREAKER:

I nod back to you and return my eyes to the paper on my desk. But instead of studying numbers and budgets, I have gathered together all the odd things I found during the day. There were strange little details that shouldn't be found in any decent construction site. Apart from the bloodstains, I found a ring, a single safety boot, and shreds of a high-visibility vest. Something weird was definitely going on here, but what?

Now, when the site was empty and I was all by myself around, I would have a perfect chance to investigate a bit deeper and try to find some logical explanation to all this. I returned to the mill area, going around the pipes that carry the concrete mix to the cast-iron molds. By the light of my hard-hat lamp, I was examining the cement base that had been poured in the last few days when suddenly my eyes widened at what I saw. “Could it be real, or are fatigue and the shadows of the night just playing tricks on me?” I needed something to chip away a little at the surface of the freshly poured cement.

I begin chipping away at the surface of the concrete with a small chisel until my suspicions are confirmed. A man’s hand appears inside the concrete mass. The concrete has absorbed all the moisture from it, and the hand looks a lot like the mummified hands I've sometimes seen in museums.

 “What the hell does this mean?” I ask myself as I rush back to my office. “Should I call the police first, or my boss?” I ask myself as I am already dialing his number. “Are you home yet? Get your ass over here, and fast. You need to see this with your own eyes. I think we have a problem that could delay your project by months or even shut it down completely. I’ll be waiting for you here.” I didn’t even wait to hear his answer; I just hung up and sat down at my desk. “I hope that bastard realizes how serious this is.”

Thousands of thoughts run through my mind as I try to find some logical explanation for all this. There must be more, I am sure of it. Getting out of my office, I take a strong flashlight with me and move back to the construction site, one of the floors that was recently done, trying to find any new evidence of or hint of the mysterious things that have taken place here. "Why the hell is it taking this long for him to arrive?" I ask to myself.

MUSCLE MARINE:

I suddenly step out from behind the rubber curtains that hang around the construction site... and into the spotlight you put on all around, illuminating the area like it is daylight. "The fuck you still doing here at this hour. Don't you have a place to be? A wife to fuck?" My language and demeanor is totally different than earlier this morning.

I walk in on you in a pair of tight jeans this time, boots, a white t-shirt and a neon safety jacket covering my muscles, but my arms still stretching my sleeves to the maximum. But little did I think that, up close on site, you would look so much bigger than me. I feel a stir in my pants as I look at you in your less formal look, having unbuttoned your dress shirt, and rolled up your sleeves.

DREAM BREAKER:

My heart jumps in my chest when I suddenly hear your voice right behind me. "We can fuck ourselves if this gets out of here." I move the spotlight to the place where the hand is coming out of the concrete and then turn back to you. For the first time I notice you have quite ripped abs and well-defined muscles in your arms and legs, and for a moment I forget all the drama going on as I stare at the prominent bulge between your legs. Then swallowing deep, I return my gaze back to your face. "You have any idea what the fuck is going on here? Should we call cops? I think that would be the most correct thing to do." I can tell from the expression on your face that you are thinking hard. "Boss, quite frankly, all this could ruin your project for good. Perhaps checking out the budget once more could help out both of us here, don't you think?"

MUSCLE MARINE:

I step in closer as you pull out your phone from your pocket. "What would really ruin the project is you actually making that call." As I grab the phone from your hand and start compressing it in my grip, making the screen crack. I throw it away. "But we won't do that... We can't afford to have this get out... Neither you for that matter." I smile, slyly. I make my pecs pump and bulge out. I notice you staring and then your gaze drop to my bulge. "You like what you see? Just like David here..." Pointing to the hand coming out of the concrete wall. I can see in your eyes the shock as you start understanding, partially, what is happening here.

DREAM BREAKER:

The dynamics have clearly changed here. Once I’ve recovered from my initial shock, after you shatter the screen of my new phone with just a squeeze, my gaze scans your bouncing pecs and returns to your bulge, which seems to have grown since before. But a menacing tension has also crept into the situation. I don’t intend to let it affect my behavior, though, as I swallow hard and reluctantly lift my gaze back to your eyes.

“David? Didn’t David cash out and head back to his hometown?” I pause and see a smirk on your face. “I’m starting to understand what happened here. But don’t worry, I’m not going to rat you out to the cops, not now that I’ve got a tight grip on your balls.", I laugh and continue, "Your secret is safe with me, and I’m sure we can also come to an agreement on how I’ll benefit from all this.” I stare at your serious face while flexing my own pecs, as if responding to your threatening gesture.

MUSCLE MARINE:

Out of nowhere, I spin on one foot, and raising the other one, I land a hard roundhouse kick to your head, sending you down. Luckily you have that hard hat on your head to protect you from my devastating attack., but you still land on the hard concrete floor with a thud. "I know my secret is safe... Especially after you end up set into that new wall that needs casting... forever." As you drop, I bend down and grab you by one ankle and start dragging you on the floor towards the wooden skeleton set up for tomorrow's concrete casting.

DREAM BREAKER:

I must admit I didn't expect you to react like this. You manage to surprise me when my guard is off and send me hard against the concrete. When I recover my breathing and vision, you are already dragging me through the floor towards the wall skeleton. "No way, bastard"., I think to myself as I finally understand what you have in mind. I kick towards your abs or knees or balls, anything I could possibly reach with my free leg, trying to get free from your grip.

MUSCLE MARINE:

You get me good in the knee and I jerk, dropping to it. "Fuck. Idiot." I grunt as I grab your ankle again as I see you trying to crawl away and pull you back towards me and the empty wall. I place my knee on your back and pin you down. "You couldn't just do your job without meddling. I will make you pay. I cannot have loose ends..." As I bend over you, my face close to your head, whispering and then laughing in your ear.

DREAM BREAKER:

"Hey, relax man. No reason to react like that. I am sure we can find another way to fix this. I will always keep your secret without asking anything for it. Come on, man, let's talk about this." I'm trying to reason with you as I stop struggling back.

MUSCLE MARINE:

"Secret? Talk about this?" I laugh as I keep dragging you on the floor. I suddenly lose my grip on your bucking wiggling foot. I turn towards you, smiling, feeling how scared you are... "Yeah. After I am done with you here, you will not be talking to anyone, that's for sure." On the way to the wall, I had pulled on a switch and the concrete mixing machine down below turns on, making a loud grinding sound... And we both know what that sound is, as I smile at you.

DREAM BREAKER:

"Boss, I am sure we could handle this another way", I keep on trying to make you change your mind when I hear that familiar sound, a sound that I hear every day at the construction site. But you seem to have made up your mind, and the only way to get out of this situation is fight. I get up on to my knees and lunge on top of you, wrapping my arms around your upper thighs, pushing you backwards hoping you lose your balance as I hit my forehead into your big bulge.

MUSCLE MARINE:

I suddenly feel a pair of tight hands gripping my thighs, pulling me up, an inch or two off the floor and dragging me backwards. Pain shoots through my balls as your head connects hard to them, making me feel almost like vomiting. I grab your head, trying to pull it away, but you seem to have a good grip and determination. My back connects to the floor, my head smacked to the concrete, as you straddle me and try to pin me down.

MUSCLE MARINE:

I spread my arms wide open, and try to clap your ears to ring you. The need to get you off me creeps in very fast as I realize what you have resorted to... a fight... to save your snooping ass. I need to reverse this and take you out. I buck and force you off me, making you fall to one side on the concrete floor. I pull away and get to my feet. "You are a feisty one. But not for long..."

DREAM BREAKER:

I fight for my life, which gives me even more determination to survive. Suddenly the idea crosses my mind when I realize that David was hardly the only one whose dead body was found buried in concrete. John, Steve, that chubby guy from the South, they all disappeared, suddenly calling it quits. I’m wondering where you’ve buried them when suddenly you manage to break free from my grip, and I find myself lying on my side on the concrete floor. I look up and see you already towering over me, the mixing machine now continuing its menacing, grinding noise. “You’re a fucking psychopath, you hear me? But you’ve made a mistake with me,” I shout as I try to get back to my knees.

MUSCLE MARINE:

Smiling at you, I wave you over, egging you to get up and face me. But before you get up, I spin and aim a kick to your head. "You think so?" I laugh as I move with speed, determined to finish this little encounter rapidly so I can return to my place.

DREAM BREAKER:

Your kick is coming fast. That was exactly what I expected you to do. I stay still and wait until your foot is close enough before I move, grabbing a firm grab of your spinning leg, blocking it just a few inches from my head as I claw your prominent bulge, catching your balls in my tight grip, squeezing and twisting them with all my might. "Yes, I think so!" I hiss, seeing that nasty grin on your face turning into a painful grimace.

Maintaining a painful grip on your orbs, I dig my fingers deeper into them as I slowly rise to my feet and grab you by the throat, pushing your body backward until your back slams into the concrete grinder. “This time you picked the wrong man, and that mistake will cost you dearly.” I slam my forehead into your face, delivering a powerful headbutt to your nose.

MUSCLE MARINE:

I am stunned when I feel my leg stop instantly and then a sharp pain coursing through my whole body. My balls in your tight grip feel like they are going to pop. I reach down, grabbing your wrist trying to pry your hands off... but no use. My head spins, feel like vomiting. Then your other hand lands on my throat as I am busy trying to free myself and you start pushing me backwards. I have no good footing and then find myself slammed hard onto the big humming machine with the mix building paste. "The fuck you doing? Let go of me." I reach out and try to slap you, trying to ring you.

DREAM BREAKER:

Perhaps the immediate threat of death sharpens my senses and speeds up my reactions as your hands rise with an obvious attempt to ring me. I release my grip on your balls and take a fast step back as your palms slap my cheeks. If that slap had hit the target you were aiming for, you probably would have knocked me to my knees. I don't have time to waste; I have to act now while you’re still recovering from my previous attacks. I need to take you down before it’s too late. I press my palm against your face while clenching my free hand into a fist and slamming it with all my might into your ripped gut.

MUSCLE MARINE:

Your fist connects to my unexpected un-flexed gut hard, digging deep. I did not see that coming as I fold over your punch. I feel almost like vomiting and for a moment, the whole world is spinning. I try dropping to my knees, but you hold me up. 'Fuck. How is this architect so strong?' I think to myself. I gather some strength although I am in this momentary pain, and shove you backwards hard, into the frame-work of the wall. "Time to end this." And as I manage to push you, I slide a hand in between your legs, and strike up into your balls, stinging you, enough to loosen your resistance to my attacks as I force you into my trap.

DREAM BREAKER:

Your fingers easily find what they were looking for, striking my balls, taking them into a firm, painful grip. My hold of you loosens as you squeeze almost all fight out of me, dragging me closer to the wall. I struggle, trying to get free of your hold, but you have me good as I fall into the drainage hole between the wall reinforcements. I try to get up, but the steel-hard grip on the man’s most sensitive spot makes my knees go weak. That icy stare is back on your face, along with that cruel smirk.

MUSCLE MARINE:

I smile while pushing you back into the frame of the new wall. With my other hand, I grab the concrete hose and push it into the opening and let the mix flow, filling it up. First, trapping your legs. I hold you still, at arm's length, squeezing your throat tight, weakening you by controlling your air flow. I try to keep you there and still until the concrete is up to your knees, making sure its hard for you to step out and fight back with your legs.

DREAM BREAKER:

My strength is beginning to fail me as the wet concrete mixture rises higher and higher, further slowing my movements. I know concrete well, and I know that soon it will harden and begin to draw moisture from my body. But I’m not going to leave here without a fight. I’ll slam my fist with all my might into your sternum, hoping to stop you.

MUSCLE MARINE:

Out of nowhere, while I am focused on the pouring concrete, I feel a sharp pain cut through me, slicing my lungs. I look down and see your fist in the middle of my chest. It hurts like a bitch, but I suck it up and push through... brushing your hand away. "You fool." I flick the button on the concrete machine and it starts pouring faster, filling up the space around you. Soon, you will be drowning in the thick hardening paste.

DREAM BREAKER:

At this point, I already know the game is lost, as the concrete mixture has already risen to my chest, making it nearly impossible for me to breathe. But I don’t want to go out like this, no fucking way. With my last ounce of strength, I grab hold of your massive bulge—which, for once, comes in handy, and pull you down into the rapidly filling hole in the wall. “You’re coming with me!”

MUSCLE MARINE:

Stunned, I scream feeling your tight grip on my bulge. Although I am still in my pants, you manage to pull me half-way into the wall, into the fast hardening mixture. I try to fight back, and it only tears the fabric around my balls and cock, freeing them... But not the best thing as I feel you renew your grip and pull me back into the mix. Our eyes meet when I hear you say that I am coming with you. "Never." But try as I might, I can't seem to loosen your grip and break free. I swallow hard, knowing this will not end well... for you, but also for me. I also hear sirens from afar. My eyes go wide... "You called the cops?"

DREAM BREAKER:

What do you think, moron? Of course I did," I answer with a weakening voice. I don't try to struggle any longer but instead use all my strengths to maintain my grip of your balls, a task that grows easier with every passing moment as the concrete hardens little by little, trapping your balls forever in my fist, casting them into my deadly grip. Finally, the concrete mass rises to the level of my face and covers my mouth, my eyes, and my entire head. I feel you trying to climb up my body, but my grip on you has solidified into a concrete trap from which there is no escape.

MUSCLE MARINE:

"Oh shit..." I am totally trapped. Well, part of me... the most important part of me. My balls are trapped and the hardening concrete around them makes it harder to pull out. My whole body is free, except for my precious manhood. And I hear the sirens getting louder. "Fuck. Is this really the end?" I try to reach the concrete mixing machine to press the stop button... but no use. It is too far. "Fucking asshole. Fuuuuuuuucccccccckkkkkkkkkk."

DREAM BREAKER:

The concrete gradually begins to seep into my mouth and down my throat, filling me from the inside out. It’s over for me, but I’m satisfied as I feel your balls being squeezed and hardening in my concrete grip, a grip from which you have no escape, ever. Then the concrete enters into my lungs filling them instantly, finally covering my eyes and muffling my last scream..

MUSCLE MARINE:

There is no more movement from the concrete... You are dead. But I cannot move either, no matter how much I struggle. I push with my hands on the frame, trying to pull my balls out, but it only hurts, as if they are going to get ripped. No more sirens, but instead, screams and shouting of police officers rushing up the stairs, towards the only lit floor on the construction site...

I keep trying to pull my balls out of your grip trapped in the quickly hardening concrete wall, but its no use... time is against me as the cops get closer, making their way through the floors. As they round the corner, I look back at them... both angry and almost begging in pain as my balls are starting to feel totally dead, the concrete sucking out the moisture in them and tightening even more around them, crushing them. The two detective-police brandishing their guns cautiously take a couple of steps towards me, assessing the situation. They soon understand what is happening when they see me barely able to remain on my feet, dropping a bit, being held only by the grip of the dead man in the wall. They see the tips of the fingers of the hand protruding from the concrete, and the top of the head... the situation becoming clearer and clearer... "Help me. He was trying to kill me... Please..." Twisting the facts and rationale of what they are understanding. But one of them, pulling out his phone from his pocket... makes a couple of clicks probably messaging someone and then looking at me... he smiles...

Published: 2026-07-05, viewed 82 times.