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!

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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.