Bodybuilder Family Feud ~ Chapter 4

	WARNING: This story may contain lots of violence and brutality. Even by the pretty illiberal standards of this website. There’s also almost certainly going to be some intergenerational incest mixed in with the rough stuff, so gird your loins if that sort of thing upsets you. Actually, if intergenerational sex and violence disturb you, you’ve really wandered into the wrong place and should probably just leave now and forget you ever heard of JagoBC. You HAVE been WARNED! Proceed at your own risk.

	Bodybuilder Family Feud! Chapter 4

	I immediately dropped my hands to the grass and crawled toward him. I was feeling so low about how poorly I’d done in the test of strength, I figured I deserved some punishment. I kissed the top of his left foot and then the right. Then, because they were right there, I kissed them again, slower, using my tongue. I licked down to his toes and up around his ankles. I was really getting into it when he shouted: “Jesus, boy! Ain’t you gotta any pride? Now get up so I can kick your ass proper.”

	I arose slowly, wiping my wet lips with the back of my hand. Then, suddenly, I charged him and tackled him to the grass.

	I straddled his chest with a school boy pin and showed him my biceps. “How do you like them apples, old timer?”

	He grunted, more surprised than hurt I imagine, then started to threaten me. “Why, you—” But then he caught sight of my bulging biceps, and I’ll be damned if his eyes didn’t widen and his scruffy brows go up in appreciation. “Fuck, sonny-boy, you got guns!” I grinned, continuing to showoff for him, basking in the heady glow of the first compliment I think I’d ever received from him. Of course, his praise may have been nothing but a ploy to distract me, for a moment later his legs had swung up under my arms, pulling me over backward off him as he sat up. But I wasn’t done with my offensive yet. And even though he'd proven more than a match for me in strength, I figured there was no way Granddad could equal my speed and agility. I performed a backward somersault, and the moment my toes touched the grass, I leapt up and landed a powerful dropkick to his surprised face. He was tossed back down onto his back, sliding across the turf.

	Positioning myself between his legs, I lifted them, and then held my right foot poised over the crotch of his posing strap. He glared up at me. “You ain’t got the balls, kid!” he told me.

	I laughed. “It’s not my balls you should be worrying about, old man!” But, despite my threat and the inviting target it provided, I didn’t stomp down on Granddad’s bulging pouch. I was determined to prove my worth to the old fucker, and figured I ought not to take any shortcuts. I wanted to beat him, but beat him fair and square. So, instead, I rolled him over onto his belly and locked in a Boston crab. He groaned as I leaned back, bending the hell out of his spine.

	“Goddam you, you little fucker!” he hollered at me through clenched teeth. “Save your breath, Granddad,” I told him. “All I want to hear out of you is ‘I GIVE UP!’”

	TO BE CONTINUED...

Bodybuilder Family Feud ~ Chapter 3

	WARNING: This story may contain lots of violence and brutality. Even by the pretty illiberal standards of this website. There’s also almost certainly going to be some intergenerational incest mixed in with the rough stuff, so gird your loins if that sort of thing upsets you. Actually, if intergenerational sex and violence disturb you, you’ve really wandered into the wrong place and should probably just leave now and forget you ever heard of JagoBC. You HAVE been WARNED! Proceed at your own risk.

	Bodybuilder Family Feud! Chapter 3

Granddad’s hands were rough and callused and his grip incredibly strong. As we interlocked the fingers of our hands, he sneered again and told me, “Christ, kid, you got hands like a girl!” It’s true enough I hadn’t spent forty years working in a warehouse, but I figured my hands were tough enough, as I’d prove to him in just a minute. I raised my right arm, wiggling my fingers at him. He turned his head to spit in the grass again, and then met my challenge. We stood another moment sizing one another up. I could already feel my heart racing and my breath coming faster. I don’t know what Granddad was feeling. He looked like he considered this whole thing a waste of time. But I figured that was just another of his attempts at playing mind games. Then, very slowly we eased together, our hips leading the advance until just the tips of our bulges touched. We both looked down, and Granddad growled, “Alright, boy, let’s see what you got.”

	I was happy to oblige, squeezing his rough hands in mine, and applying all my strength to forcing his meaty arms back. My chest butted up against his and I felt the stab of those big nipples. I grunted with the effort and was rewarded by feeling him lean back under my onslaught. But then he gathered his strength, and I knew the battle was on.

Slowly he pushed back against me, grunting. Or chests slid together, up and down and side to side. I bowed my forehead to his shoulder and clenched my toes in the grass. With another loud groan I made a desperate attempt to regain the advantage. But he met me like a brickwall, letting me exhaust myself. Then, with a sudden vicious jerk of his powerful arms, he cranked my hands down and back. I let out an involuntary cry of pain and astonishment, dancing on my toes.

	Granddad laughed in my face. “You’re weak, boy. Them muscles just for show?” He slowly pulled our arms up over our heads and began to bend my hands back at the wrists. I cried out, sinking slowly to one knee. I stared up at him in amazement. “Jeeesus, you’re fucking strong as fuck, old man!” “Stronger than your pansy-ass, that’s for sure!”

He forced my other knee down and then leaned over me, pushing my ass down against the backs of my ankles. I didn’t quit fighting, but it was pretty clear to both of us he’d outshone me by a mile in this initial test of strength. “Fuck! I knew you were a goddamned pansy-ass, but I expected more outta you than this!” He cranked my arms, bending my wrists so far back I screamed in pain. I looked up at him towering over me, sweat dripping off his face and raining down into mine. The bloated pouch of his strap loomed dangerously close to my chin. I shouted: “Okay! Okay! I give!”

	That just made him lean into me harder, and he sneered triumphantly down at me. His bulging jock actually brushed my lips. The pain and humiliation were overwhelming. Tears welled in my eyes. “Please! I submit!” Instead of letting up, he hocked a big loogie and sent it crashing over the bridge of my nose.

	He stepped back a few yards and paced back and forth in front of me like a caged lion. “What a fuckin disappointment. I didn’t expect much outta you, and still gave you too much credit.” I wiped my face and began rubbing my aching wrists. “Sorry, Granddad. I’m kinda disappointed myself. I knew you were strong, but—Wow!” In response, he showed me a quick series of his best poses.

	The fact is he was really fucking hot. I reached down to adjust my package, my rock hard cock straining to bust out of my strap. Granddad saw me touching myself and sneered. “Fuck, sonny-boy. You’re hard as rock already!” “Yes, sir!” I told him. “You’re fuckin sexy as hell and you know it!”

“I am damned irresistible,” he chuckled. He rubbed both hands over his chest then sent his right down across his packed belly while the left rose and popped a massive bicep flex at me. He pulled the straining bulge of muscle up and kissed it, then turned to me. “You want to kiss it?” My face lit up. “Yes, sir!” He laughed and dropped his arm. “Fuck your pansy-ass, boy. You gotta earn that right! Now crawl over here and kiss my feet.”

	TO BE CONTINUED...

Torturous Tort or The New ADA Racks Up His First Day in Court

(You can click on the pic to view it larger, but, depending on your bandwidth, it can take a long time to load!)

Ex Parte

Rumors have circulated for years that Judge Poole presides over an especially strict courtroom. Particularly when it comes to young male lawyers straight out of Law School, who are more than three times as likely as their counterparts to face contempt of court charges. But, since he appears to favor neither the prosecution nor the defense, and since the charges are almost inevitably dropped, little is thought of it. Less widespread are the rumors that those young male attorneys who see their contempt charges dismissed have beforehand agreed to a private hearing with the judge after hours...

Why I Never Meet My Deadlines

So excited by new toys!

Click a pic to see it larger.

One Off?

The older dude looks nearly photorealistic, but I need to work on young guy's face a bit more. Click the image for a larger view.

Bodybuilder Family Feud ~ Chapter 2

	WARNING: This story may contain lots of violence and brutality. Even by the pretty illiberal standards of this website. There’s also almost certainly going to be some intergenerational incest mixed in with the rough stuff, so gird your loins if that sort of thing upsets you. Actually, if intergenerational sex and violence disturb you, you’ve really wandered into the wrong place and should probably just leave now and forget you ever heard of JagoBC. You HAVE been WARNED! Proceed at your own risk.

	Bodybuilder Family Feud! Chapter 2

	“Well, you showed up,” Granddad said. “I guess that’s something. Thought sure you’d pussy out and skip town.” “This meeting was my idea.”

“Yeah.” He turned his head and spit a huge wad of something into the grass. “You never were too bright.” I shook my head. “You can’t get inside my head, old man. I’m used to your insults.” “Fuck, sonny-boy, I been living rent free in there since you were fifteen! Look at you. Same haircut, same body oil. Even same brand of posing strap. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were sweet on your old Granddad.” “Fuck you!” I shouted, immediately confirming he could indeed still get inside my head. He laughed and flexed his arms. His huge pecs bounced up and down. “Dream on, you pansy-ass mutherfucker. If anyone’s gonna get fucked here tonight it’s gonna be you.”

	I gulped and wiped my wet lips with the back of my hand. His words actually made my balls start tingling and my dick perk up. Not that I was sweet on him! But the truth is, when I’d first started jacking off late at night back at St. Venerable’s, those photos he’d sent me had played a huge part in helping me bust my nut.

“We came here to fight, not fuck,” I told him after clearing my throat a few times. “Let’s go!” He grinned. “You that eager to get your ass kicked?” I shook my head again. “All you do is talk, old man. Time to put up or shut up.” He took two broad strides toward me, and, after a momentary hesitation, I matched him. That left us with slightly less than a yard separating our bulging chests. It was my first time standing this close to him in just his competition posing strap, and, I found myself mesmerized by the huge, protruding nipples that capped each of his mammoth pecs. They were literally mouthwatering, and I wiped my mouth again before I began drooling down my chin.

He barked, “My eyes are up here, boy!” I nearly jumped and felt my face flush red at the idea he’d caught me checking him out. But the fact is, he was sexy as fuck! And up close, with his pheromone-ladened scent flooding my nostrils, I was starting to feel dizzy. “Let’s kick this off right,” he said. “A good ole-fashioned test of strength.” He raised his right arm, showing me his palm. He spread his fingers, enticingly. I looked from his raised hand to his face and then back to his hand. Then with another loud gulp, I slowly extended my own arm to accept his challenge…

	TO BE CONTINUED...

Bodybuilder Family Feud ~ Chapter 1

	WARNING: This story may contain lots of violence and brutality. Even by the pretty illiberal standards of this website. There’s also almost certainly going to be some intergenerational incest mixed in with the rough stuff, so gird your loins if that sort of thing upsets you. Actually, if intergenerational sex and violence disturb you, you’ve really wandered into the wrong place and should probably just leave now and forget you ever heard of JagoBC. You HAVE been WARNED! Proceed at your own risk.

	Bodybuilder Family Feud! Chapter 1

Granddad and I met a little after midnight, on the football field behind the high school. We had both been star quarterbacks there once upon a time, though, as he was fond of saying, his star always outshone mine by more than a few magnitudes. He was right, of course. He’d been a huge deal in his day, not only quarterback but team captain. His team had gone the entire season without a single loss. They won the state championship. And, as he was also fond of saying, they did it all without the pansy-ass padding we use today.

For the record, my team had done well enough, winning most of our games, but not quite making the finals. Of course all of that was years in the past. I’d just come back to town after graduating college, and he’d only just retired after spending forty years driving a forklift. We aren’t particularly close, Granddad and me. After my parents passed away, he refused to take me in, even though he got all the insurance money and had plenty of room. Instead he sent me to Saint Venerable’s Home for Incorrigible Boys, to toughen me up, he said, since my parents had clearly been too soft on me and he wasn’t going to have some pansy-ass for a Grandson. He was right about it toughening me up, but it also made me hate him with a burning passion.

I didn’t see him again until I graduated high school. He had heard I’d been accepted to the State University and wanted to be sure I knew he wasn’t going to support me while I wasted my time pursuing some pansy-ass degree. In case you haven’t guessed, pansy-ass is Granddad’s go to term. He uses it for pretty much everything he dislikes or disagrees with: innovation, higher education and, most of all, yours truly. Even after surviving St. Venerable’s, I’m still his pansy-ass grandson. About the only contact Granddad and I had while I was growing up, were the annual letters he sent me on his birthday. He was required, he wrote, by his own noble nature, to remind me what a failure I was, what a disappointment, and what a burden, though as far as I could see the only effort he made on my behalf were the letters he wrote complaining about me. Of course, he also regaled me with tales of his own accomplishments, which, admittedly were many. True, he’d worked the same factory job year after year without a single promotion, but he’d also managed to achieve a certain amount of fame as an amateur bodybuilder. He’d won more championships over the years than any other competitor in the state’s history. Each May, along with his letter, he enclosed a photo of himself, on stage, holding a trophy triumphantly above his head. And though I never much cared what became of his epistles, I treasured those pictures.

	And maybe, just maybe, they had something to do with the fact that I soon took up bodybuilding myself. You see, me and Granddad actually do have a few things in common. We both favor crewcuts. We’re both gay. And we’re both amateur bodybuilders. And the Tri-State finals were underway. The first day of competition had ended with me taking the top honors in the Junior category (ages 20 to 23) and him earning a win over the other Grand Masters (ages 50 to 59). That meant tomorrow we’d be going head to head in the All-Around, a sort of Best in Show for Bodybuilders. Only we weren’t about to let a few judges decide between us. No sir! After some heated debate and lots of name-calling (mostly on Granddad’s part), we’d arranged to meet on the football field and settle the question mano-a-mano.

	TO BE CONTINUED...