He was my classmate, a bully and a predator. Big mouth, tiny dick, tiny brain, you know the type. One day he wanted to beat the shit out of me in the schoolyard. I didn’t hesitate and kicked him as hard as I could in his balls. He screamed in pain, fell to his knees, then flat on his face. I loved the feeling of power I had over him, so I placed my foot on his head and flexed my biceps for all to see. Those biceps changed his tune and my life. Because numerous boys, and even a few of the Girls, wanted to feel my biceps. I quickly realized I could make some money from this and demanded a gift. Almost all of them complied. Once they’d paid I would boss them around, calling them weaklings, sluts, sissies and losers. They loved it. It was amazing, surreal even, but I have many fond memories of that time. I clearly remember a much older Girl for example, who was so intimidated and shook like a leaf. Or that boy with the glasses and the braces, who had an orgasm in his pants when he kissed my biceps. Many of them came back for a second, third and even a fourth time and my biceps were in hot demand for a long, long time.
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