High School Bully 5
After the tutoring session, Ty started to stalk Ponner. He knew the little fucker was up to something, no one could pack on that much solid muscle in such a short time, not even a beginner like Ponner. Ty didn't have to spy for long before he realized that Ponner was spending most of his spare time in his garage. And when he came out, sporting either a tank top, or no top at all, he'd be so jacked up, Ty could hardly believe his eyes. The kid was starting to look like a pro bodybuilder. He had an 8-pack going, and it showed even as he strolled his way across the driveway and into his house. Ty had to find out what was going on in that garage.
He skipped school the next day, and went back to Ponner's house, and snuck his way up the driveway. He squatted down in front of the double-wide garage door, dug his fingers underneath and muscled it up. The inside lock snapped from the strength of his arms, and Ty opened the door just enough for him to slip inside. He lowered the door back down, and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He saw the weights on one side of the garage. It didn't look like a big enough set to explain Ponner's big size increase. The other half of the garage housed Ponner's dad's Range Rover. Nice truck, Ty thought to himself as he waddled over to the workbench. It didn't take him long at all to find the box of gear that Ponner kept hidden on a lower shelf. He pulled out a bag filled with powder and looked it over. The label was written in a foreign language, but Ty could figure out what it was for. He dug out a vial of sterile water, and mixed some of the powder into it. Then he found an unused syringe, filled it from the vial, and aspirated the needle before jabbing it into his leg. He pushed down on the plunger and emptied the vial into his quad. It didn't take long before he felt an amazing rush of heat coursing thru his veins, like nitrous oxide times 10,000. He began to stretch out his limbs as he felt the power surging thru him. He went over to the Range Rover and gripped the front bumper. He deadlifted the front of the truck right off the ground. He shrugged the truck up and down, and groaned as he felt his traps swelling and thickening. He shrugged the truck 40, 50 times, before setting it back down. His muscles were on fire from inside, and he ripped off his shirt. He flexed his arms over and over, hard as he could, till the pump in them made his skin feel like it was going to split. He went back to the truck and curled the front end, curled it until his arms felt like they were going to explode. Then he held his arms out in front of him and watched as new veins emerged up and down his forearms and biceps, veins he had never seen before, engorging his arms, swelling them to tremendous size. Simply flexing his quads made them bloat up like ballloons. He could barely believe the rush. In fact, he was so into flexing his swollen size, that he didn't hear the car pull up in the driveway.
Outside, Ponner's brother Chris pulled up in his black Camaro, home from college for the winter break. He unloaded some stuff from his car, and as he was pulling out a big duffle bag from the passenger side, it jammed against the steering wheel, honking the horn. He jerked the bag harder, and it came free. As he sat it down on the driveway, he was startled by a loud bang, and as he looked up, he saw the garage door tear off its hinges and fall flat down. Chris had seen a lot of muscle jocks in his time, but behind the fallen garage door stood the most jacked up dude he'd ever seen. A 5'10, 350lbs jacked up dude, massively pumped up, and waddling toward Chris.
"Where's Ponner?" said Ty.
"Who the fuck are you?" said Chris, who, at 6'3, was much taller than Ty, but was outweighed by him by almost 150lbs.
"Just tell him Ty was here," Ty said, putting his hands on the open door of Chris car, making the hinges creak. Ty's delts were the size of Branch Warren's and they rippled as he applied pressure.
"Hey, get off my car, man."
"Make me," said Ty, pushing down harder, causing the car to lean and creak.
"What the fuck, asshole," said Chris. He leaned into the car and pulled out his hockey stick. "Back away from the car," he said, holding the stick like a weapon.
"Anything you say, college boy," said Ty. He stepped back, but didn't release the grip on the car door, and ripped it right off its hinges. Still holding it in his hands, he bent the door before dropping it to the ground with a smirk.
"Jeezus, dude!" said Chris.
Ty kicked the busted door aside, and motioned for Chris to come at him. Chris took a tentative step toward the hulking musclekid, then he swung the hockey stick at him. Ty snagged the stick midair and wrenched it out of Chris's grip. He snapped the hockey stick like a toothpick, then doubled up the broken pieces, and snapped them. Then he stacked them all together and crushed them in his superstrong grip. He tossed the shattered pieces to the ground, and brushed his hands off on his massive pecs. He took a step toward Chris, who backed up. Ty crouched down and put one hand under Chris's car, then he flipped it up on its side. Even he was surprised at how easily he lifted it. He stood back up, then went at Chris, tackling him to the ground. Despite Chris being a tall strong college jock, Ty pinned his shoulders to the ground and held him there. Chris's name was stitched into his varsity jacket.
"Chris, huh?" snarled Ty. "That short for Christine?" Chris struggled vainly as Ty bore down on him with even more power. "That all you got, college boy? I could snap you like your fucking hockey stick."
"Let him up."
Ty looked up to see Ponner standing at the end of the drive. A big grin spread across Ty's face.
"Get off my brother, asshole," said Ponner.
Ty sat up, but still held Chris in place with his tremendously muscled body. "Who's gonna make me?"
Ponner put down his book bag and stripped off his shirt.
"I am, you dirtbag."