High School Bully 3

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Ponner continued to lift and eat and grow. Each workout was better than the last. He woke up sore every morning, but he knew now that the pain was a good sign, that he was really busting deep into the muscle, and he'd learned to force himself to break thru the soreness. "Growing pains" his mother had called it one day when he'd groaned his way down onto a kitchen chair, the day after doing legs. "Soon you'll be as big as your brother Chris," she said.

Bigger, thought Ponner to himself, as he dug into the mixing bowl full of oatmeal that his mom sat down in front of him. He saw the look of pride in her eyes as he scarfed down a serving that was meant for ten. He was already wearing Chris's sweats, having gone thru the stuff his brother left behind when he left for college. They were baggy on him, and helped hide the fact that he had gained 30lbs in 2 weeks. Soon the sweats wouldn't be baggy on him at all, he thought, as he shovelled in the dozen eggs his mom had scrambled up for him.

Afterward breakfast, he went to the garage for a workout before going to school. He was benching 225, a weight he could never even conceived of 2 weeks ago. And, he was doing 20 sets of 20. His chest would be on fire, and so swollen up it looked like he had two balloons for pecs. Rock solid balloons. He would flex them out in the mirror afterward, bouncing them up and down, feeling how heavy they had gotten. He picked up a wrench for his dad's workbench, and, just for kicks, decided to try and bend it. He couldn't believe how the striations in his chest raced up and down his pecs as he bore down on the wrench. He couldn't believe it even more when the wrench started to bend. Slowly at first, so slowly that he thought he was imagining it. And as he realized it was bending, it made him try even harder, and the wrench bent even faster. Ponner crushed it together until the two ends met. Then he dropped it to the garage floor and looked down at his arms. Raging with veins and muscle. Flush red with pump. So strong. He felt like a god.

He went inside and showered, then got dressed for school. As he came into the kitchen to grab his backpack, his dad said to him, "You know, Ponner, if you're going to be eating us out of house and home, you should think about going out for football."

"I'm thinking more about wrestling," Ponnor responded. Both of his parents looked at him, suprised. He couldn't blame them. He had never expressed any interest in sports at all before this.

"Wrestling?" his dad said.

"Yeah. Football seasons almost half over. Wrestling try-outs are today, after school."

"Wrestling is a pretty intense sport, you think you're ready for something like that?" asked his dad.

"I'm not sure. You want to test me out?" Ponner put down his backpack. "Here, let's arm wrestle." He pushed aside the fruit bowl on the kitchen table, and put up his arm.

Ponner's dad almost laughed. He could have believed Chris pulling something like this, he had always been the jock, but Ponner? And having worked construction thru his 20's, before starting his own company, Dad was no sloutch. "Strapping" is a word that many people would use to describe him.

"OK, boy, let's see what you got, " he said, sitting down across from his son and putting his arm up on the table.

They locked up hands and adjusted themselves into position. "Go," said the dad, and their two arms tensed up like steel cables. Ponner was initially amazed that his dad didn't take him down swiftly. Then he began to realize that, while holding his dad's arm in the start position wasn't exactly easy, it wasn't all that hard either. His confidence bolstered, he increased his grip, and saw the startled look on his dad's face. Ponner grinned. He slowly began to force his dad's arm downward. His dad put his other hand on the kitchen table to brace himself. It was sort of cheating, thought Ponner, but he didn't care because he was still winning, inching his father's arm down. In fact, he felt stronger and stronger, no matter how much his dad leaned into his arm with his whole body weight. Even when his dad stood, pushing the kitchen chair across the room, and pushing against Ponner's arm as hard as he could, Ponner was winning. Down and down went his dad's hand, till it finally tapped the kitchen tabletop.

Ponner's mom stood there with her mouth agape. She looked all flustered. His dad's face was all red and sweaty, and he rubbed his arm as he stared at Ponner in awe. Ponner had never felt so fully alive. His arm felt so totally jacked up, he wanted to take his dad on again, only this time letting him use both arms against him. But he was late for school. He grabbed his backpack and headed out the door. "Thanks Dad, that was cool," he said back toward his two stunned and speechless parents.

At school that day, Ponner could scarcely concentrate on his studies. In his classes, he would secretly tighten and squeeze his muscles, feeling how hard and strong they felt as he practiced the isometrics he had read about online. In between classes, he practically strutted thru the hallways. His friend Jimmy came over to him when he was at his locker.

"Hey, Ponner, where you been lately?"

"Just hanging around at home mostly," Ponner said.

"What's with all the baggie sweats, you getting fat?" asked Jimmy.

"Yeah," said Ponner, "I'm getting real fat. Come on, I'll show you." He grabbed Jimmy by the elbow and led him toward the boy's restroom.

"Hey, jesus, you're hurting my arm!" protested Jimmy.

Once inside the restroom, Ponner made sure it was empty except for them.

"Check this out," he said to his friend. Then he stripped off his sweatshirt.

"Dude....holy shit..." said Jimmy. "You're freaking buff!"

Ponner looked at himself in the restroom mirror and realized how right his little buddy was. He could have stepped onstage at an amateur bodybuilding contest, and won. His biceps had splits in them and he wasn't even flexing them. When he did flex them, the peaked up super high, and the splits deepened.

"...jesus..." said Jimmy, as Ponner flared his lats out like wings. He felt so incredibly strong. He clenched his abs and they stare as his 6pak popped out. He clenched down on them even harder, and they could almost see an 8pak.

"Punch them," Ponner told his buddy.

"...Nah, man, I can't..." but when Ponner took a step toward him, Jimmy did as he was told. He hit Ponner square in his washboard.

"Oh yeh," said Ponner. "Hit them again." Jimmy hit his friend's abs again, this time harder. "Keep going, Jimmy, I can't even feel it." Ponner put his hands up behind his head, and let his friend work over his stomach. "Man, feels so good, so fucking strong."

Jimmy stopped his punches, his arms tired, and his knuckles sore. "Ponner, what the fuck man?"

They heard voices nearing the restroom doorway. Ponner pulled on his sweatshirt, just before two other students came in. Ponner and Jimmy headed out into the hallway. As they turned the corner, they saw Ty.

"Oh, shit," said Jimmy, who had faced his share of bullying by Ty thru the years. Ty spotted them and headed in their direction.

"Stay behind me," Ponner said to his buddy, then started walking toward Ty. They hadn't seen each other in the weeks that Ponner had been actively muscle building. Ty looked bigger than ever, and as he passed by the two boys, he knocked into Ponner's shoulder, hard. Ty had this move down. A month ago, it would have sent Ponner and his books sprawling across the hallway, like it did to so many of the smaller guys that Ty smashed into. This time, though, Ponner barely budged. Ty kept walking, but he looked back, puzzled. He slowed down, and looked Ponner up and down.

Ponner said to Jimmy, "Keep walking."

"Dude, this ain't good," said Jimmy.

"It's all good," said Ponner. But inside, his heart was pounding, just like it did before he'd grown muscle. And this Thursday, he would be tutoring Ty for the first time in a month, one on one.

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