Popular Post Caliban11 Posted October 27, 2021 Popular Post Share Posted October 27, 2021 Johnny’s Bully Part 1 During his time at uni, Johnny had got huge. Since taking up the gym at 16 he’d made incredible gains – his arms had grown from 13 inches to pushing 19; his former pigeon chest transformed into meaty pecs that hung over a ripped and blocky six-pack. His capped shoulders were massive, his quads like tree trunks. He liked to work out twice a day when he could. He ate big. He slept eight hours a night. He definitely juiced. He did everything right to get the perfect physique. In his time at uni he’d dedicated himself to getting big. Early mornings, late nights, gym sessions which got longer as his body got bigger. He hardly went out to bars, hardly socialised at all outside the gym. Even his studies weren’t as important to Johnny as growing was. Strength was everything to him. He’d graduated with a decent-enough degree, and landed himself a decent-enough job in London. At first he found it tough to fit the job around his bodybuilding, but he quickly got his routine down. Six months in, and he was the biggest he’d ever been. And he’d escaped his home town! That shithole where hope went to die. Where the losers from school still lived, in dead-end jobs or no jobs at all, nothing to look forward to except getting pissed or getting high. Not Johnny: He knew he was better than that. Better than those people. Better than Adam Fucking Gunner. Adam had gone to Johnny’s school. Whereas Johnny had been skinny and academic, Adam was a natural athlete. Tall and broad, Adam would have excelled at any physical team sport, except he was too selfish. He liked to lift weights. By the age of 16 Adam already had impressive 16 inch arms, some serious pec size and huge quads. He was also the hardest fucker in school. His muscular frame made him intimidating even to the older kids. On one legendary occasion when he was 15, he’d got into a fight with an 18 year old and knocked him out with his first punch. Fractured eye socket. If anyone doubted before that Adam had the muscle and the balls to back up his big-man image, they didn’t after that. Adam was a bully almost incidentally. He was the most respected lad in school, surrounded by his crowd of buddies – his gym mates, the hot girls, the beta boys hoping to look cool by association. Picking fights with lads was just a bit of fun. It was fun for him to make an older and bigger boy back down just by intimidating the fuck out of him, making him feel weak, and pathetic. It was also fun to pick on the smaller guys, taking the piss out of their skinny little arms and pale, spotty bodies. His mates loved it too. To be honest Adam hardly knew even the names of most of the people he’d picked on. They were nothing to him. Weak, skinny little Johnny wasn’t even on Adam’s radar. One off-hand, casually cruel comment was all the attention Adam had ever paid to Johnny. They were in the school locker room after gym, when Adam and his mates were comparing their pump. As hard as he tried to ignore the bro-banter and the noise of the laughter and the grunts and the flexing, Johnny couldn’t stop himself from glancing over as he fumbled with his shirt. There was Adam, flexing a single biceps in the mirror. The lad he was competing with stood no chance. “Yeah, keep tryin’, gaylord,” he grunted, keeping the flex. “Fuck you Adz,” said the smaller lad with an abashed smile, relaxing his own flex and ceding the mirror to the bigger man. Just then Adam saw Johnny looking at him in the mirror. Slowly he smirked, then, continuing the banter with his mate and tightening the flex on his bi so it swelled bigger, said: “Yeah, you gotta go heavier to grow, bro, or you’ll get beat by fuckin’ toothpick arms over there.” He smirked, and nodded to Johnny in the mirror. That was it. From then on Johnny was known to everyone in the school as Toothpick Arms. In class, at break, that was what everyone called him. Even some of the teachers started using the name. And the girls. At school Johnny’s crush was Stacey Wright. She seemed different to the other girls. A bit shy, to Johnny she was the most beautiful girl in the world. One day soon after the locker room incident, he’d screwed up all his courage to ask her out. At breaktime he saw her on her own and, sick with nerves, made his approach. “Uh, hey Stace…” was as far as he got before they were interrupted by Stacey’s girl gang. “STACEY!! Omigod I swear, Gavin just fingered Chantelle in the girls’ loo, I can’t even….” Then seeing Johnny there: “What the fuck does Toothpick want?” “Uh, toothpick?” said Stacey, confused. Her mates squealed and proceeded to tell Stacey all about Johnny’s wimpy arms and the locker room incident. All the while Johnny just stood there, hot with humiliation and rooted to the spot, as the girl gang shrieked with laughter while carrying away Stacey with them. That was the start of Johnny’s muscle fixation. He needed to get big. He needed to show that cunt Adam Gunner who was the real fucking alpha. And now, five years later, Johnny stood in the mirror in his London flat, flexing his massive pecs and feeling their mass shift under his t-shirt (size large, but still too small). He reached down to grab his shirt and began to pull it off over his head – only it got stuck at his lats. After some grunts and a tearing sound as some of the seams gave way, Johnny got the shirt off and inspected his upper body. Those pecs. So much fucking beef. His nipples looked small by comparison: A boy’s nipples on a freaking man’s chest, it was fucking hot. That six pack. Abs that Ryan Terry would be jealous of. All the girls that Johnny fucked went crazy over his abs. Typical, thought Johnny, when it’s his delts they should really be wet for: Like two massive but proportional bowling balls at the top of each arm. Arms which exploded into nearly 19-inch cannons. Who gives a fuck about abs when you’ve got guns like these, thought Johnny, breaking into an epic double bi which revealed the deep hairy canyons that were his pits. Tomorrow morning he was training back. It didn’t matter if he was late for work. After all, priorities. * * * * * Next evening, about 10pm, Johnny got home after his second gym session of the day. He’d only meant to go heavy on back in the morning and maybe some cardio later, but he’d got talking about bodybuilding with his mate Will at work who’d asked if he could train with him. “Wanna hang with the big dogs mate?” asked Johnny with a smirk. After the leg workout he later put him through, he doubted Will would be back for more. He’d left him in the carpark struggling to get his legs to work his car. 10pm. Shit, Johnny needed to get to sleep soon – he needed at least eight hours to maximise his gains, or he got cranky. Enough time to microwave some chicken. While the microwave was on he checked Facebook on his phone. There was a post from Stacey. Johnny didn’t have many Facebook friends – at uni he’d spent all his time at the gym and so hadn’t met many people besides a few gym bros – but a few of his old school mates had added him. And Stacey. He didn’t know why: Did she think about him ever? Wonder what he was doing? If she hoped to find out she would have been disappointed. Johnny never posted anything. Stacey didn’t post often either, but whenever Johnny saw one of her posts he always felt a stabbing sensation as his mind recalled that past humiliation. But this post. Jesus Fucking Christ. Ad’s gon! The fuckin bastards left us! Not even a fuckin text! Apsalute shitin cunt! She must have been off her face when she wrote that. Johnny didn’t know what any of it meant, so he trawled through the dozens of “U OK hun?” messages and pieced the story together. Stacey had been “seeing” (more like fucking, Johnny guessed) this lad for a couple of weeks before he’d moved in to the house where Stacey lived with her stoner dad. A while later, after missing her period, Stacey had taken a pregnancy test. It was positive. She’d messaged the news to the lad, and hadn’t seen him since. And the lad? Adam Fucking Gunner. As if it wasn’t enough that his bully had been fucking his crush, he had now totally destroyed her. Johnny felt hot, and realised he’d been tensing his muscles so his pits were sweating through his tee. Did he even care? Did people like Adam Gunner ever care about the damage they caused to people’s lives? Did he even know about the damage he’d done? A vein throbbed in Johnny’s neck. Someone had to tell him. And by tell him, Johnny meant beat the crap out of him. And who would do it? Stacey’s stoner dad was a loser, so were her friends. There was only Johnny. He had transformed himself into a real man, a fucking bodybuilder with a physique that made Adam Gunner with his 16-inch arms look like a pissing wuss. Only Johnny, with his bigshot London life and a body that would make Stacey wet. Oh yeah. Wait till Adam saw him. Wait till Stacey saw them together. Who would have the fucking toothpick arms then?! And Johnny growled as he flexed a most muscular, ripping the size large tee under the arms. 36 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wrestlejock646 Posted October 28, 2021 Share Posted October 28, 2021 Awesome set up! Bring on the next chapter! ASAP! PLEASE! 1 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ro20316 Posted October 28, 2021 Share Posted October 28, 2021 Nice start. Things look pretty good for Johnny so far 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Posted October 28, 2021 Share Posted October 28, 2021 I loved this beginning of history Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
xxxlalphabrute Posted October 28, 2021 Share Posted October 28, 2021 I hope Adam is still bigger and bully's the shit out of toothpick arms 5 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MrAlice Posted October 28, 2021 Share Posted October 28, 2021 56 minutes ago, xxxlalphabrute said: I hope Adam is still bigger and bully's the shit out of toothpick arms You and me both!! 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
superkappa Posted October 28, 2021 Share Posted October 28, 2021 Very promising start! I'm clearly team Adam, I can't wait to read more about him. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
racer11 Posted October 28, 2021 Share Posted October 28, 2021 Looks promising 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
xxxlalphabrute Posted October 28, 2021 Share Posted October 28, 2021 5 hours ago, MrAlice said: You and me both!! Damn right bro, that pencil neck needs reminding of his place 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post Caliban11 Posted October 29, 2021 Author Popular Post Share Posted October 29, 2021 Part 2 It didn’t take Johnny long to find out where Adam was living. He messaged a couple of his old school mates and had an address within the hour. In a little town like that, news travelled fast. One of his mates messaged back again: Your not gonna do anything stoopid man? Adz is fucken huge Johnny smirked. No one from back home had seen him since he’d left for uni more than three years ago. If they thought Adam was huge, wait till they saw him. They had no idea what fucken huge really looked like. He scratched his meaty pec which twitched, making the whole mass on his chest jump heavily. He threw up his gun into a quick single bi flex, then replied: Reckon I’ll be ok * * * * * The next day was Friday. Johnny called in sick. He knew his boss didn’t really believe him, but he also knew he wouldn’t do anything about it. Johnny’s boss fancied himself as a bit of a weightlifter, and had mad respect for Johnny’s size and physique, and cut him a lot of slack. Whenever Johnny was late because of the gym, or left early because of the gym, or disappeared for a couple of hours because of the gym, his boss would just say: “You do what you gotta do man.” And that’s what he said now. It would take a couple of hours to drive back to his hometown. Before he left Johnny needed to pin: He was currently cycling test and tren, and Friday was always his second pin of the week. Yeah, that worked out perfect. Johnny always felt fucking invincible after pinning. He prepared the needles methodically, then carefully injected his glute. Oh, fuck, yes! Gonnna get fucking huge! The feeling of the tren entering his body made him chub up. “We fucking growing!” he grunted as he busted out a few of his favourite poses. Yeah, his back was looking awesome after yesterday’s heavy session. Lats looking thick. He thought about getting in another quick sesh before he left – a quick arm pump maybe? But then he decided that, seeing as he’d be down there, he’d drop into his old hometown gym instead. There was only one gym back home, a seriously run-down place with rusty old-school weights and a stink of lynx deodorant. It was always full with the local skinny chavs who fancied they were gonna get huge. Fucking losers. Yeah, he’d drop in for a sesh and show the chav wuss boys what real fucking muscle looked like. He pulled on a tank, and his pecs spilled out the sides. He grabbed a hoodie and his gym bag, and left. He felt pumped by the tren and the adrenaline. As he drove he put on some death metal and tried to focus his mind by concentrating on his plan. It wasn’t much of a plan. He was going to go to the address he’d got for Adam, and then he was going to beat the shit out of him. Fuck yeah. Weapons? No fucking way. Johnny was going to have fun taking Adam apart with just his muscle. Only chavvy cunts used weapons. What if Adam wasn’t there? Then Johnny would wait for him. Maybe get his workout in at the gym. Chest and arms, get a fucking pump going before his date with destiny. Fuck yeah. And Stacey? Johnny thought about it, and realised he didn’t want to see her. That part of his life was over, and he was a whole new man now. It was closure he was looking for. Beating Adam to a bloody pulp would be the best possible Fuck You to that earlier part of his life. Of course, a few pics with him and the beaten-up Adam could maybe find their way back to Stacey – so she could see that her honour had been defended, he meant; so she could see that Johnny hadn’t let the bastard get away with what he’d done. Maybe Johnny would be flexing a most-muscular while Adam lay unconscious in the road? Or would a lat spread be better to show his width? What would make Stacey wetter? No, Johnny wouldn’t mind that at all. Could he film it? That would be fucking awesome. Even as he was mentally picturing Adam knocked out and lying at his feet, Johnny at last reached his hometown. Death metal continued to blast through his car stereo as he drove along the familiar dirty streets, past the town centre which was now even more derelict than before he’d left. He stopped at some lights and watched as a gang of lads tried to smash up a bus shelter with a traffic cone. Fucking dickhead chavs, down to the tracksuits, caps, and chunky gold chains they all wore. Fucking runts, trying to act like big men. Pathetic. Johnny smirked as he thought how much better one of those chains would look round his own bull neck. Hanging over all that pec meat. Showing them chavvy wimps how it’s meant to be done. Fuck yeah! Well, he’d be showing at least one chav how it was done today. The lights changed, and Johnny drove on. The place was deserted. All the shops were boarded up except the odd betting shop or takeaway. There was hardly anyone on the streets. Going around a corner, Johnny happened across another gang of lads, this time all on bikes or scooters, but dressed just the same as the other gang. As Johnny drove by they all just stared a dead-eyed stare. One lad made as if to throw his lager can at the moving car, but seemed to change his mind when he saw Johnny. Yeah, try it, thought Johnny. Fuckin try it and I’ll get out and beat the crap out of all of you. Fuckin scum. He turned up the music and drove on. At last the satnav announced that they’d reached their destination. Jesus, what a shithole. The front garden was strewn with all kinds of crap: a smashed up sofa, a smashed up fridge, a smashed up bath tub… In the drive was the burnt out shell of a car. What kind of a fucking loser lives in a place like this, thought Johnny, and smirked to himself as he made his way to the door. He felt unbelievably pumped up. He was ready to go. Yeah, he could add a smashed up chav to this pile of crap, easy. He’d drag Adam outside if he had to before taking him apart. Johnny was just wearing his gym tank over his upper body, and his arms felt like fucking cannons. Tren pumps were awesome! His pecs were exploding out of his tank. Adam was going to piss himself when he saw all this. Johnny clenched his jaw line, furrowed his brow, and hammered on the door. There was no answer at first, but Johnny could hear some kind of hip hop being played at volume somewhere inside. He hammered again, then went round the house and hammered on a window. The curtain was drawn, but after more hammering someone drew the curtain back and opened the window. It wasn’t Adam. It was a lad, dressed like the gang lads Johnny had seen on his drive through the town. But this lad looked seriously sick. He had big dark circles around his eyes, and his skin was grey. He looked like he couldn’t focus straight. Smackhead, thought Johnny. The lad looked vacantly at Johnny. He seemed to be struggling to take all of Johnny in, and his glassy eyes darted nervously from Johnny’s traps to his chest to his quads and back again. “I’m looking for Adam Gunner,” growled Johnny. With his eyes all the while fluttering from trap to chest to quads and back again, the lad at last answered nervously: “Ai, alright blud, safe, safe! Who you lookin for, big man?” “Adam. Gunner.” “Ai, dunno no Adam, big man. You got the wrong house, innit!” And the lad gave a nervous laugh as his eyes continued to dart over Johnny’s physique. “Look, you fucking piece of shit,” said Johnny, and in one fluid movement he grabbed the lad by the neck and squeezed. The muscles in his forearm bulged. The lad let out a gurgle, but was too out of it to try and resist. “Tell me where Adam is, and I won’t smash the door down and beat the fuckin crap out of you.” “Ya fuckin cunt!” the lad wheezed, as Johnny continued to squeeze. “Ya don’t wanna know where Adz is, ya get me, blud?” Johnny squeezed harder, and the lad squealed like a pig. But still he only gasped out: “Ya don’t wanna know, blud!” Johnny released his hold and marched back round to the front door. Puffing out his chest, he charged the door with his bowling ball delt. It burst open immediately. Of course it did. There was nothing that could stand in the way of Johnny’s muscle. Jesus, this place was a shithole. Like a crack den. These people were fucking scum. Johnny found the lad cowering in the back. Johnny didn’t have to smack him around too much before he told him what he wanted to know. “He’ll be at the gym, blud! Him and his crew are always at the gym! I don’t know nuffin else!” “Good lad,” said Johnny, and patted the wincing smackhead on his cheek. One of his eyes had swollen shut. The gym! That was perfect. Johnny needed to get a session in anyway, he smirked to himself. No better place to humiliate the school jock than the place he’d bullied so many others. Maybe he’d start with a bit of humiliation: Take the piss out of his lifts, show Adz up for the weakling he was. In front of all his mates! Then back him into a corner: Force him into a confrontation. Then Johnny would be able to take him apart. How far did he want to go? Snap a few bones? Turn his face to mush? Or just rough him up a bit? As Johnny jumped into his car and made his way to the gym, he knew he couldn’t trust himself to hold back. He was gonna enjoy himself today. Today was gonna be awesome. 29 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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