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The giant bully

By Ace

Description Sometimes the roles get reversed, when the bully is the nerd and the victim has the muscle.

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AddedOctober 2018
Updated3 Nov 2018
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2 Parts tap bar to showtap bar to hide

Part 1

Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses is playing in the next room.

Oh shit, I’m going to be late again.

I hate going to school… like really hate. I just can’t handle the people who laugh at me and call me stupid names like “Bull” and “Tank”. Yes, I get it, spending hours in the gym will do that to you, but I am way too shy to handle the attention. Being 6’3” with bleach-blonde hair doesn’t help me to stay in the shadows.

The reason I got into working out was to prevent the bullying, but it turns out that it only made it worse. I was a fairly thin kid—164 pounds at 6’2” isn’t something to be proud of. So I busted my ass in the gym six days a week, ate like a pig and focused on it so hard I lost track of much of my social life, which mind you consisted of one friend. Through this early life crisis, I was able to gain 46 pounds of muscle in a three-year period. I thought that would be the end of my bullying and help me come out of my shell.

The problem isn’t the jocks and the cheerleaders though, those people are fine. They stick to their sports, drinking and party while not minding any of their surroundings. The problem that I have is with the “nerds”.

These three guys do everything in their power to make my life a living hell. It all boils down to one thing… jealously. All three of them have tried to replicate my success in the gym to no avail. There is Brett, who is 6’4” and 370 pounds of complete fat. Seth, who is the complete opposite of Brett at 5’5” and 140 pounds. And my kryptonite… Dawson, who is 6’1” and 160 pounds. Remind you of anyone?

I hop out the shower and dry myself off. I quickly wipe the steam off of the mirror. Even though I am running late, I always take the time to flex in the mirror. It is the only boost of confidence I get in a day. I just love the feeling of watching my bicep harden in into a 17-inch ball of steel. It looks especially great with water dripping off the peak. I never just dry off my chest though. My pecs are my favorite part of my body. I love trying to squeeze and flex them to make the water flick off of my body. I’m pretty sure that I currently have bigger boobs than my ex… which I love, considering that when it came to girls I was always a “boob guy.”

I throw on my ripped jeans and oversized Underarmour hoodie and run downstairs. Quickly, I gulp down the three eggs and toast mom has made for breakfast. Damn that hit the spot! As I leave the house, I see the last of the students piling aboard the bus.

“HEY, WAIT FOR ME!”

It’s a good thing I never skipped cardio. It’s a mad dash for the bus, but luckily I’m quicker than Flash (or so I’d like to think) and arrive at the stop just as its doors are shutting.

“LET ME IN!”

The bus driver slowly opens the door and shakes his head.

“Kid, you’re lucky I’m used to this by now.”

“Sorry Mr Jenkins,” I say as I step into the bus.

I take a quick glance around the packed bus. Damn it, way too many people. I’m starting to sweat more than I did running here. Everywhere I look there are beady sets of eyes glaring at me. It’s my own fault. Where the hell is there to sit? This place is packed.

Wait, there is a spot in the back….. next to….. Dawson.

Part 2

Come have a seat, Tank—that is if you can fit.”

“Shut up,” I say as I reluctantly sit next to him.

I sit there patiently for a few minutes as I wait for Dawson to make his move again. He has this huge grin on his face as he is eyeing me down.

“What the hell are you staring at?”

“Just wondering how you haven’t died from all those steriods you have been pumping into you.”

“Dude, I told you before. It just takes hard work.”

He then proceeds to poke my bicep.

“Cut it out.”

He looks up at me and continues to stare at me with that evil grin. His fist goes from closed to open as he starts rubbing my arm.

“I said fucking stop it.”

I yank my arm away, knocking Dawson back in the process. He slams against the side of the exit door.

SCREEEECCCHHH. The bus comes to a stop. “PARK! CLARKE! HERE’S YOUR STOP.”

Wait, why single us out? Oh fuck, he is kicking us off. Dawson and I do the walk of shame off the bus… although Dawson doesn’t seem embarrassed. In fact, he seems overly pleased. He still has that smug look on his face.

“Now look what you have done,” I say.

“What’s the matter, bulls don’t like to walk?”

We step outside as the bus pulls away. Jesus, we have another two-mile walk before we even get to school. I’m stuck with Dawson for another two miles!

“Hey, you’re the size of a bus, perhaps we can make it on time.”

“Give it up.”

He jumps on my back.

“GET OFF!”

I quickly fling him to the ground. The guy is so light he tumbles a couple feet. A syringe rolls out of his pocket. I pick up the syringe, while standing over my fallen adversary.

“What the hell is this?”

“GIVE ME THAT.”

Dawson scrambles to his feet and lunges at me in a shoulder tackle. Luckily he is only 160 pounds and completely fails to budge me. He backs up a couple feet while putting both of his fist up.

“Do you really want to do this?”

Dawson steps towards me and connects his puny right fist into my face. It stuns me for a quick second and he is instantly on my hand trying to pry the syringe away. My grip is tight but he smacks it enough to loosen it a bit. We go back and forth in a very brief tug of war. I am strong enough to pull Dawson sharply towards me and when I do I feel a prick in my right pec.

I got accidently stabbed with the syringe…!

“NOOOOOOO!”

Dawson collapses to the ground falling to his knees. Tears are welling up in his face. This is the most vulnerable I have seen him—even more so than the time I knocked him out. And after that he still managed to play the victim card and turn it around on me.

“Dawson, what the hell was in that syringe?”

He starts to wipe the tears away. “NOTHING OKAY?”

Fuck, I receive what feels like a jolt of electricity shooting through my body. My heart rate starts to increase. Jesus, not a panic attack, please not now! It’s getting sharper and more rapid. I haven’t had a panic attack like this in quite some time. Whoa, wait… this actually feels amazing. It’s starting to feel like an orgasm. My whole body feels numb and tight.

“AGHHHHHHHHH!”

I look down a Dawson. His eyes are gone complete awestruck.

Oh, fuck yes, there’s that orgasmic feeling. I feel warmth throughout my body. Holy shit, I’m growing!! I look down at my legs. What were well defined quads, were now the size of a Junior Bodybuilder. The seams of my jeans can barely hold my new tree trunk legs. I clumsily step towards Dawson, who is white as a ghost. Something else seems wrong. Why does he seem so far away? Dawson jumps to his feet and tries to scramble away. I reach out and grab him by the wrist. Damn, I knew the guy was light but man he came barreling towards me like a feather. As he connects with my chest, I realize he only comes up to my pecs. That’s when it sinks in.

I’ve been stabbed by some sort of growth serum.

Description Sometimes the roles get reversed, when the bully is the nerd and the victim has the muscle.

Votes(5)
Talk
Views
5,058
Words
1,463
AddedOctober 2018
Updated3 Nov 2018
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