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...