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Tony Gets Upset
|Academic excellence and maturity were not prerequisites for attending
the college into which the entire Mills family had matriculated. Many
of the school's athletes, in particular, were selected purely on the
basis of size, physical prowess and aggressiveness. About half of the
football team tended to be arrogant jackasses as well, letting their
size go to their heads. When together, as they usually were, they
acted like stereotypical, lunkhead bullies and rarely passed over an
opportunity to dump all over the little guys. Mostly they did petty -
if embarrassing, stuff like making the weaklings carry their books
(there weren't many of those), or heel behind them, or instructing
them that "From now on, you will address me as "Sir! - ya got that you
little wimp?" - while holding the smallest guys off the floor up
against the wall with one hand for emphasis. Now and then, however,
these dump-sessions leaned towards the rough side, and black eyes and
miscellaneous bodily bruises were not uncommon.
Everyone knew this went all - they saw it all the time. The school officials knew, but since the school's status - and funding - relied almost exclusively on the success of their athletic program, the athletes were given a great deal of latitude regarding their macho behavior. It upset many of the students - but they were invariably too small, and too afraid, to do anything about it. Tony knew, but he certainly didn't care: that was their lot in life; tough shit. No, he didn't care; he even thought it was pretty funny seeing the shit the little guys had to put up with…, until they hurt HIS boy.
It started in class after lunch one day when Tony had settled into his usual back row corner seat, slouching down and pulling his posers off to one side to give himself full exposure, his overly large endowment hanging half-way to the floor, whereupon he stroked himself quickly to an erection, which was soon followed by a gentle flow of precum which Tony was using to great advantage as he slowly stroked his thick meat. Johnny was in his usual place, one seat diagonally off to the front. He hadn't looked Tony's way as yet, which was quite surprising; he was always very eager to "help" his huge, well-hung friend. In fact, Tony expected it and was getting impatient waiting, so he whispers….
"Hey! - Pssst!"
Johnny turned partly around, head bent over as if he's trying not to look straight at Tony, gives him a brief glance, shakes his head "No" and turns back to his book.
"What the fuck…?" Tony is used to immediate response, and just that quickly he's starting to get a bit pissed. Johnny may be his friend - but only so long as he performs as expected.
Slightly louder now: "Yo! John-Boy! Get'cher ass over here." Johnny looks hesitatingly back, shakes his head once again and turns quietly away.
That's all Tony can take. He stands up without covering himself - his cock straight out and dripping noticeably now. Johnny's resistance has gotten Tony more aroused than he'd realized. He steps in front of Johnny's chair, pushes back on his shoulders to force his head up, prepared to chew his head off for failure to perform as expected.
"Hey! I thought we had a…." He stopped short as se sees Johnny's face - one good shiner plus a bruised cheek bone - even some dried blood at the lip of his nostrils. Tony saw red. "Who did this to you," asked Tony in a voice that he obviously found hard to control? The whole class, including the teacher, were quietly watching this little scene that had turned suddenly, and unexpectedly, from pornographic to tender and personal.
Johnny shook his head -he didn't want to say. "That's OK. There's no need. I understand." He pauses while looking into his boy's eyes. Smiling a little, he directs Johnny's eyes downward to his now totally at ease sex tool - a large drop of precum hanging from the piss slit at the end. He grabs his cock with one hand, the other still grasping Johnny's shoulder, and firmly but tenderly lifts it up in front of Johnny's face, lets him look at it for a bit and says, slowly and gently, "I think this would help you feel better," - with a smirky little smile on his face.
Johnny slowly looks up into Tony's eyes, smiles, and nods ever so slightly. Tony smiles back and moves back to his own seat. Johnny follows immediately, kneels down, noisily inhales the whole log of firm meat as he wraps one arm around Tony's right thigh and the other around behind him, his palm firmly cupping the top of one ass cheek. He then emits one long, very audible sigh of relief as he settles in for the rest of the period. Much to the teacher's dismay, there was a smatter of applause and even some appreciative smiles aimed at Tony in recognition of his good deed.
Recognizing the response for what it was embarrassed the crap out of Tony and brought a huge scowl to his face, quickly silencing the class, but he made himself feel better by thinking about the retribution he'd exact for his friend's mistreatment. Hs scowl changed back to a smile that stayed in place for the rest of the period. He now had two good reasons to be happy.
Later that day, Tony started asking questions, and within a day or two he had all the answers -- a half dozen jocks who'd messed with his boy, plus a few others who'd manhandled other little kids and who, Tony figured, would have hit on Johnny sooner or later. On Friday, he approached them all one by one and asked them to show up at the locker room after classes - he had a nice surprise, using some very suggestive body language to give them all the idea that they didn't want to be late.
Any ideas they may have had about individual playtime with Tony vanished when they walked into the locker room to find not just Tony, but several of his jock groupies. Some got worried when they saw this, but some got even happier: ("Group sex?" they wondered to themselves.).
Eight guys showed up; two were missing, including Fat Larry, the loud-mouthed bruiser who had messed up Johnny's face. "That's OK - he gets special treatment anyway," thought Tony. When he figured everyone was there, Tony stared the room into quietness and opened with, "My friend Johnny is unhappy."
A collective "Uh, oh" spread across the faces in the confined area.
"And when he's unhappy, I'm unhappy."
So much for the group sex idea.
"But maybe I got I all wrong. Hm-m-m, let's see...." The place was now full of rather guarded faces. He walks over to Jim and stares him in the eyes. "I heard you like to squeeze his nuts until he cries..., is that possible?"
By now they'd all figured out that Tony had been checking up, and that he knew, and that there was no sense in lying about it... "Well, uh-h-h..., just a little..., maybe..."
"Oh - you mean like this," as he easily snaps the thick leather belt in two with his hands and yanks down Jim's jeans and shorts all at once and clamps onto his nuts, but without any pressure.
"Hey! Watch it!" He ties to pull away, but Tony starts to squeeze.
"...and so then you squeeze.... - like this?"
"YEOWWWWW! NO! Not that hard!"
"Oh, no? Well then, maybe you did it...," as he grabs Jim, flips him upside down facing away, holds him up with one arm around his waist, his ass even with Tony's midsection. Tony reaches between the guy's legs with his free hand, grabs his balls again and pulls them up without squeezing..., "...like THIS?"
"Shit, Man -- lemme down!"
"OK." Tony lets go of the waist support. Jim instantly drops, and then screams from stretching his balls painfully before catching himself with his arms. "Fuck you, man. Cut it out!" Ignoring the man, Tony grabs one leg and pushes the foot against the lockers. "Brace yourself." Jim, now facing the lockers upside down, sets both sets of toes against the lockers as Tony starts pulling on his balls so that Jim has to fully extend his arms to keep his testicles from hurting badly. He tries to wiggle free. Can't. Asks Tony to let him go.
"How long did you squeeze?"
"What!?" Oh..., uh-h-h, I dunno -- a minute maybe? ...maybe more?"
"Let's try it. One thousand one.., one thousand two...." Tony is now simply standing there, one fist resting on one hip, the other arm straight out in front of him holding Jim's nuts. Jim's sack is stretched to the limit even with his arms locked out. He starts to feel the strain.
"1,006." Jim starts to sag. Tony's arm doesn't move down a millimeter. Jim pushes back up, breathing hard. "Wait a sec..., Oww! -- Shit! Unh!"
"1,012." "I gotta get down, man -- I mean it! --- Yeoowch!"
"1,015." Not a millimeter. It finally dawns on Jim: "Hey, you fucker -- you know I can't do this for a minute...!" His arms are weakening more; he starts to drop; his sack stretches more. "Holy Fuck, Man! Y'er gonna ...Owwww!.., Shit, man..., Hey!"
Jim's arms give in and he has to drop. Tony's hand follows him down until Jim's head is resting on the ground, giving him added support -- no lower. He keeps him there amidst yells and curses until, finally...,
"One minute," and he lets go. Jim collapses to the floor and rolls around, holding onto himself and moaning. By the time Jim was rolling on the floor, Tony was standing eye to eye with Bill, who was wondering what was coming. He hadn't touched Johnny since back in high school when he used to.., Oh shit!"
"So, I hear you liked to scare the crap outta my boy by slamming him up against the wall and pinning him there--, is that right?"
"Now wait a minute -- that was before..." "Show me what you did." Bill was puzzled; "What?" "Well, it doesn't sound so bad - just show me what you did." "Oh. Well, uh, all I did was put my hands like this and.." - as he spread his arms out fairly far and placed two hands on Tony's very wide lats."
Tony interrupted. ""You mean you had to use two hands?" Bill looked worried again. "You mean, you didn't do it like THIS?!" He grabbed a fistful of thick, flannel shirt front, pulling the cloth tight around his body and hammer-curled the two-hundred-pound'er a foot off of the ground and slammed him HARD against the metal locker doors, knocking the breath out of him. Tony spread his fingers out so he was pressing against Bill with the open palm of his hand, holding him there by sheer pressure, causing more than a little pain. Before he could recover enough to speak, his friend walked around to Tony's other side and tried to help. "Hey, Man -- that was a long time ago, and.." "And you helped, the way I heard it!" And with that he grabbed Andy with his second fist and slammed/pinned him along side of Bill.
Bill finally gets out, "No, Tony. It wasn't like this..., we didn't..."
Tony: "Oh? Not like this? Maybe like this?" - as he let each palm slide up between the boys' pecs, both bodies hanging with their feet off of the ground, until the thick, strong, muscular hands reached their throats. At that point, they fell a couple of inches and gurgled as the pressure from Tony's palms cut of the air and their necks strained to support them. Both athletes grabbed onto one of Tony's massive arms and pushed themselves up to relieve the strain.
Tony didn't give an inch; both men were still a good foot off the ground. Then they heard the worrisomely familiar, "One thousand and one."
Both victims were trying their best to plead for t heir release, their arms straining to keep them from stretching their necks, their legs gyrating about and kicking Tony in a useless effort to shake lose.
"This is even easier than I thought, guys. I'll bet I can do this with just one arm... now, how can I…, Ah! - maybe this way…." He lets them down briefly, pulls them together face to face, grabs a wad of material from both shirts in one hand, and in one quick move hoists them both overhead in a one-arm shoulder press and holds them there, kicking and screaming, with their faces mashed into one another. Tony looked around at the other guys gawking at his performance. "Guess these guys aren't so big after all -- how 'bout a few warm-up reps...," and he began pumping his arm up and down, carrying the two bullies along for the ride. "Oh, yeah..., so fucking strong...see that huge fuckin' arm, guys? .. it needs a real good pump a couple times a day to keep it big 'n hard. -'n that big ole delt muscle? Awww, fuck, yeah..., I can already feel the blood rushin' in there, (and no wonder -- he's doin' one rep per second, exploding the two jerks overhead so fast their faces knock painfully together before lowering them a bit more slowly), fuelin' it up to make it even bigger -- even stronger -- Aww, yeah, really feelin' it now…, (Tony's done so many reps, so fast, that the airborne jocks have lost much bodily control; their arms and legs flipping crazily up and down as Tony easily jerks the boys around) awww, yeah-h…, startin' t' get a good pump here -- gonna make me stronger, too ..., aww yeah..."
About then Andy steps over, feeling sorry for the humiliation of his buddies. "C'mon., Tony -- that was a year or two back, and since then, they haven't been..." "No -- but I hear that YOU have!" And with that he grabbed Andy by his Big-Shot, high school Four-Letter jacket and hoisted him up as well after bashing him once against the lockers. "Aww,. fuck, yeah -- this way I get to work both huge fuckin' mounds of hard delt muscle at the same time..hmm-m-m --gotta work this left one faster to catch up…" Tony holds the first two stationary with his right arm straight out to the side, both bodies hanging limply from the rough ride they've had, as he pumps Andy rapidly up and down with his left. "Awww, yeah...., so fucking strong, man -- hardly enough weight here even for a decent warm-up though. Wassat - 25?, 26?,.., aww yeah..., fuckin' huge guns pumpin' pussy-men like its nothin' man... Aww yeah.... Well, guess that's enough," and he just lets go. Three severely mistreated, semi-conscious bodies flop to the hard floor.
"Let's see --- who's next -- Oh yeah.. Al -- I hear you like to toss my boy around kinda hard." At 240 pounds, Al didn't think he had too much to worry about, in spite of what he'd just witnessed. He wasn't real bright. "What of it?" he asked, too aggressively for Tony's liking. "Just this!" In a flash, he'd grabbed Al by the crotch and the chest and was doing fast military presses. "Put me down, you bastard!" He really wasn't too smart. "Seems to like you're not in a real good position to be callin' people names…. ("Oh, shit," thinks Al.)… I hear you even threw him against a fence once..."
Al managed to squeak out "Double Shit!" before Tony pressed him up HARD! -- banging him off the ceiling and catching him again. "About like that, was it?" And again -- BANG! Then another regular press or two and, "Wham!" - against the ceiling. "UNNHH!" "Wham!" "UNH! ... (crash!) .. Help! . (slam!) ... 'Nuf! ... (Crash!) ... silence." After 6 or 7 ceiling-slams, Al was quite unconscious, so Tony laid him on a bench..
Without a moment's rest, the other guys heard, "Rest o' you pussies follow me to the weight room -- that includes you three, pointing to Bill, Jim & Andy who were finally standing up. Al gets to stay behind." He left. They followed. And much to their dismay, they found that Tony had arranged to have all of their girl friends on hand to watch the performance. They started to protest, but Tony cut them off real fast. All they could do was steel themselves for the embarrassment they wee sure was to follow. One of the Johnny-bashers who hadn't shown was Charley, who loved to push Johnny around just to demonstrate the power in his guns -- unusually big, for his age. When Tony entered the room, Charley was showing off his pride and joy - his well-shaped, 17 1/2" arms, seated at the Preacher bench, curling 150 lbs.
Tony walks up to him, waits until he finishes the set, leans lazily on the machine with one forearm and says, "Hm-m-m, nice weight." Charley just looks back at him suspiciously -- "Yeah." Remaining still, Tony keeps smiling at Charley as he starts slowly "making a muscle" with his other arm to catch Charley's girl's attention. He does. He continues until the hardness is obvious and he's certain that she's had a good view and then stands up, inhales deeply, expanding his chest fully before giving it a good flex. The skimpy, partially torn tank stretches to its limit, every bulge and indentation of thick, deep, broad roundness of Tony's huge pecs shows through perfectly, as do his huge erect nipples. Wanting to show off his right biceps again, he says, "C'mon, Charley, let's show your girl some real men's muscle," as he places his arm close to Charley's. Knowing how much bigger Tony's arms were than his, but not having a lot of choice in the matter, Charley flexes his muscle. Charley, and holding onto his wrist with his left hand, pushes up and flexes once real hard, making muscle fibers and veins pop out all around the monster arm, completely dwarfing "poor" Charley's offering. He hears Linda suck in her breath at the sight, flashes her an extra nice smile and relaxes.
He turns to Charley, who is suddenly feeling kind of small and says pleasantly, "Got another set?" "Yeah, sure." He's still uncertain about Tony but is happy to show off, so he starts up, doing nice slow, purposeful reps. Tony stands behind him, sideways, curling his arm and flexing in time with Charley. Linda clearly saw his arm bulge to ever bigger proportions a he repeatedly curled and flexed, the top of the thick mound splitting in two when he crunched out the peak contraction. Charley saw, to his considerable dismay, that she was fixed on Tony's arm and not his. He pushed extra hard on this set, and was straining out the 8th rep when the whole Preacher Bench began to move. Startled, he dropped the weight as Tony said, "Don't move!"
Charley was now three feet off the ground. Tony turned sideways to Linda, giving her a full view of his arms and said, "Let's show the lady a REAL man's curl," -- and up went the entire machine, and Charley with it!
"One!" The assembled athletes gave a collective, "Holy shit!" - as veins and muscle fibers popped out everywhere on Tony's massive arm. "Two! Three!!" The mountain of Tony's arm became higher, thicker, and harder with each rep. "Let's see, you were trying for nine, right?" He keeps curling. "Nine! Ten!" (Enough of this, he decided.) "Eyaaah! - Eleven!" Then holding it at the top of the curl, he turned and glared at his startled group, making sure they knew how weak and puny they really were. T hen he slowly lowered Charley to the ground. Then, before Charley even thought to move, Tony walked over to Linda, placed his hand around her hips and drew her eyes downward to the huge bulge in his crotch. As she stared, he flexed his dick a few times for effect and then drew her up against him, so that his pulsing meat pressed deeply into her abdomen. With her mouth hanging open and her eyes glazed-over in wonder, she slowly runs one hand over the top of each biceps -- mesmerized by the size, the hardness, and the thick, palpable, musky odor of incomparable virility surrounding her.
Charley knew Tony wouldn't back off, so he pleads with his girl in a very plaintive voice, "Linda?" Tony right away suggests to her, in a very audible voice, "If you want to see a real man in action, pay me a visit sometime….." She continues to stare silently, hypnotically up at Tony. "LINDA!" She doesn't move. "Please, honey…?" Tony lets go and turns around, ending the moment his way.
"Speaking of Ladies --let's see what you wimps are made of. Here, grab this." He tossed them a long length of thick, knotted climbing rope that he'd gotten ready and then got on the Preacher bench, holding the other end in one hand and place his upper arm on the pad, ready for some curls. "OK, girls -- all you have to do is keep me from doing one curl. "So what's that…, let's see…, seven times.. what, two hundred each? - makes about 1400 pounds against one little old biceps. No problem, right?" He looked down at his arm as he pumped his thickly bloated gun a few more times. "After all, I've already worn these babies out curling Charley over there… oughtta be a snap!" He continued flexing and re-flexing his biceps, slowly enough that everyone could see the bulges moving in ripples all around his hard, massive arm.
The Locker Room Seven picked up the rope. Tony looked around. "Hey, Charley! You gonna join in -- make it eight against one. C'mon, he taunted, so Charley did. They pulled Tony's arm straight out so that his arm wasn't even touching the Preacher pad. "You girls ready….? OK -- Go!" All eight big athletes lean back with all their weight, brace themselves with their feet and start pulling. Tony waits a second and then in one sudden move surprises the boys by pulling his elbow towards him the several inches into the pad. The suddenness made them all jerk forward; several had to let go.
"Oops! No fair. You weren't expecting that. Once more, guys." Most got ready; three of them just kept gawking in disbelief. "C'mon.., c'mon..., you're giving me too much rest time -- get to it!"
Everyone's ready again. Tony pulls his elbow in more slowly. Even so, every man had no choice but to give up a few inches in distance, though this time they kept pull pressure on his arm. Then, gradually, Tony started to curl---, oh-h-h, so slowly -- inch by inch -- degree by degree. All eight men were forced to lean forward; they grunted and strained, and all shifted their feet forward so they could lean back again to gain the greatest possible leverage in an attempt to counteract the power contained in the single biceps muscle pulling in the opposite direction.
Once he began moving upward, Tony never gave back a millimeter, though he did pause at the half-way point and watched and listened with a bemused look on his face and an assured smirk in his eyes as eight men pulled and strained to their max. He took a moment to glance over at the (real) girls; they weren't watching their men -- their eyes were glued to Tony's thickening arm. They'd watched it move inexorably upward; as the arm rose higher, they'd watched the muscle get harder, the cuts get deeper, and the bulges get bigger. A few pairs of eyes were watching another bulge get bigger as Tony's now hard cock, which was pointing sideways towards his hip, was about to burst free of his over-stretched posers. After flashing them a big, warm smile, he looked back at the men, who were making no progress, and they were tiring -- but Tony wasn't. "Half-way there, girls; if you're going to stop me, it had better be now." That was all the inspiration they needed -- NO WAY they were going to let one guy embarrass them in front of their girlfriends, so they gritted their teeth as a group, they planted their feet as a unit, they all pulled back as one..., and still..., Tony's arm started to curl upward, ever so slightly. "Let's go, Men -- One, two, THREE!!" -- and they screamed and grunted and pulled with all their might, just one more time..., but not even all of that strong jock, leg muscle, pushing the men back as hard as possible, stood a chance against Tony's massively bulging, straining, pumped-to-a-rock-hard thirty inches -- the biceps now looked as big as his tri's.
Time to rub it in. "C'mon, guys.., Pull, Damn it!" Once more the leader yelled and the grunts grew louder, along with the Holy Fuck! 's, but it was no use. Tony finished the final third of the curl with a single, quick contraction, making them all stumble forward, finally falling in exhaustion. "You lose, assholes!"
Tony got up and paraded in front of the defeated men's girl friends, standing sideways to the group, allowing the amazed and aroused young ladies the chance to get a close look. "Wanna feel something real hard, Ladies?" as he flexed his arm with great show in front of them. Most of them did. As they were touching and giggling, he slowly lowered his arm out of the way and said, "...or something even harder!" as his eyes dropped downward -- along with those of his female admirers, to his now quivering cock., which, with one hard flex snapped free of its cloth prison, coming to rest with the tip at the entrance to Tony's steep-sided valley of pec muscle. All recognized the meaning of the invitation. Most wanted to accept it, but with their boy friends now approaching, decided against it. Except for Janice -- Charley's girl, who suddenly -- with no memory of having done it, found herself holding onto Tony's long, hard meat and staring slack-jawed up into his smirking face. She held onto it -- tightly -- until she heard a whining, "Janice, Honey -- how could you do that to me?", as her sturdy, rugby player boy friend pulled her, and her hands, reluctantly away.
Tony chuckled and walked out. They'd had their lesson -- except for Fat Larry, who was a big defensive lineman. "Damn guy shoulda' been here," he thought to himself. "Oh, what the fuck -- it'll give me somethin' to look forward to tomorrow." As luck would have it, he wouldn't have to wait that long.
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