Little Guy, Part 1

This story idea was the runner-up in my January writing poll, but since it only got one less vote than the winner, I decided to make room for it on our story menu this month as well.

Enjoy!

Hey there, runt, you’re finally awake.

You’re in my house. You crashed your car not too far from here.

Yeah, I’m amazed you made it through. Didn’t you see the road closed signs? This stretch is unpassable in the winter, so nobody is allowed up here from December through March.

How did you get here from the car? I carried you, bro.

Too heavy? Are you joking? What do you weigh, like 150?

Oh, big man at 165. I see. Well, I’m 280, so your little body was nothing for me to fireman-carry back over here. That’s like less than a third of what I squat.

Leaving? Dude, your car is wrecked and there ain’t nobody else coming up here for months. It’s too dangerous.

Nope, no cell phone service or Wi-Fi. And even if you could get in touch with someone, they couldn’t come get you. You’re stuck here for a while.

Well, I can either charge you rent or you can make yourself useful. You know how to cook?

Great, I got a shitload of food stored in the pantry and freezer. Why don’t you get up and make me some dinner?

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Dang, little guy, that was some good grub. Hopefully you didn’t make too many dishes to clean.

Yeah, of course, I expect you to clean up. Stop being a pussy about it. I mean, fuck, I’m letting you stay here until the road clears. Besides, I’m going to bed…I gotta get up early and lift.

Oh, in the basement. All my weights are down there.

Yeah, a whole fuckin’ gym. How else do you think I keep these biceps so massive? And these pecs so swole?

Hmmm…so you like big guys, huh?

How did I know? Well, your tongue is hanging out of your mouth and your cock is tenting in your jeans, that’s how. Say, since you’re such a fan, why don’t you come to bed with me before you clean up and give me a handjob? Or a blowie, if you prefer.

‘Cause little guys like you always want to get my rocks off. You're like moths on a flame and can’t get enough. Besides, you’re too tiny and delicate for me to fuck you, so I’ll take what I can get.

Hurry up…and if you make a mess on my sheets, you’re fuckin’ gonna have to clean that up as well.

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Hey, fuckhead. What are you doing? Get out of the way. Can’t you see I’m posing in front of that mirror?

Of course, I’m serious. I gotta check out my gains. It’s bulking season, you know.

Yeah, I’m getting bigger. Look at these arms…I’m gonna have them up to 20 inches soon. Look how easily I can just pick you up and toss you on the bed.

My whole body is gonna grow this winter. Get me up to at least 300 pounds. Arms, back, chest, and yeah, these fuckin’ legs of mine are only gonna get harder and stronger. Not that they’re weak now…check it out how easily I can crush you between them. Squeezing your little chest. Yeah, squirm, little man. I love feeling your little body struggling up against my solid concrete thighs. God, I get off being fuckin’ strong!

What? Getting hard to breathe? Too bad you don’t have a chest like mine, with big monster pecs to help you take in all the air you need. Or hands as powerful as mine, so you could just toss off my legs and take control of the situation.

Ha! I can’t believe you’re tapping out when I’m only using about 10% of my strength. What a weak little bitch you are. Just fuckin’ unbelievable that I open my home to someone and he turns out to be such a wimp.

Yeah, I’ll let you go. But only if you go straight to kitchen and make me breakfast.

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You want to what? Start working out? Seriously?

Yeah, I know there’s not else to do around here, but I’m surprised a little guy like you would want to pump iron. That’s a real man activity, and well, you know.

Fine, I don’t care. But you better fuckin’ put back everything the way you found it. And I don’t want you down there in my way when I’m lifting. You can do it only after I’ve gone to bed. And after you’ve done all your chores.

I just don’t get what you think you’re gonna accomplish, other than wasting your time. Look how tiny you are, little guy. Look at how small your arm is compared to mine. I bet I’ve got more muscle in my right arm than you have in your entire body. Go ahead – try and unflex it.

Ha! You can’t even more it a millimeter. I’m just too fuckin’ strong and you’re too fuckin’ weak. But look what happens when I grab your arm – I can make it do anything I want. Why are you hitting yourself? Why you hitting yourself, wimp? Ha ha ha.

Better not pick up anything bigger than a 5-pound dumbbell, little guy, ‘cause I ain’t going down there to save you each time you get in trouble.

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Jeez, that’s a lot of food for breakfast, little guy. Why did you make so much? I know I’m bulking right now, but I don’t want to get too big.

For you? Oh, ha, I see. You think you’re gonna bulk up, too. Good one. If you eat good and lift hard all winter, you may be lucky to go from 165 to 170, but I wouldn’t count on getting too much bigger. I know you wimps struggle to put on mass.

What? You’re already at 180…but you’ve only been lifting for about a week.

Well, you must have been heavier than you thought. Or it’s all fat. No way you put on that much muscle that quickly.

I guess your biceps are stretching out the sleeves on your Extra Small shirt, but don’t go getting delusions of grandeur. They ain’t shit compared to my pythons. Maybe your body was just so starved for some attention that you had a bit of a spurt, but it’ll level off real quick.

Hey, did you make any more muffins…those were good. Just the six I ate? Well, fuck, make more tomorrow. They’re the best thing you’ve made since you been here.

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No, I ain’t working out today. It’s a rest day.

Yeah, well, sometimes I take two rest days in a row after a brutal session. My body’s gotta recover so it will grow. Remember, I’m trying to get up to 300 pounds of muscle by the end of winter.

I’m at 310 right now, but a lot of that’s water weight. I’m gonna lose that and you’ll see…all that’ll be left is 300 pounds of pure, solid, ultra-jacked muscle.

Fine, go ahead and work out twice today, if that’s what you wanna do. But trust me, wimp, you’re over-training and you will probably get injured. Then you’ll never get big and strong like me. Hey, how much you weigh anyway…looks like your clothes are getting really tight.

200? Really. Well, it’s probably just water weight like me. One good shit and you’ll be back at 180.

Hey, listen, before you go downstairs, are there any more of those good muffins? I’m still fuckin’ starving.

A dozen? Well, bring them to me. I’m too tired to get up off the couch.