Wad

by Broody   

At a boring house party, a douchebag bro takes psychedelics, then runs afoul of a muscled tank who puts the MAN in manhandle.

Dude, I gotta tell you this crazy story. I was stoned out of my mind at this boring-ass house party. You should’ve seen the fat blunt I blazed before I got there and then as soon as I arrived I dropped some primo acid in the bathroom. The dudes at the party were all nerds with a capital NERD and there were barely two semi-hot chicks. I was about to make a move on the seven (and angry about it, a seven? I never usually dip below an eight) when I literally ran into this short dude. I bounced back a step like a rubber ball and peered down at his dumb sticker name tag. You get what I’m saying, dude? Sticker name tags? It was that kind of party.

“What kind of a stupid name is Wad?”

The dude cocked his head to the side and eyed me silently.

“Is it short…” I stopped and giggled. ‘Cause he was short see? He didn’t laugh. “Is it short for something? Like Wade?” I giggled again. Why would you shorten a short name? Oh I get it! Because he’s short! I started laughing and snorting like a hyena. The acid was kicking in something fierce.

“No,” he said.

His voice was so deep the vibration of that single word made my body tingle. What the fuck? I stopped laughing and just stared at him. I realized that though this dude was short, he was jacked, man. Big boned, broad shouldered, and massively muscled. I took in the size of his pecs, turning my head slowly to the left, then right. Dude, his chest alone was wider than my whole body! His hoodie must have been an XXL or bigger and it was plastered to his skin.

“Bro,” I said. “You’re huge!”

“Yeah,” he said.

I poked his right pec with my finger. It felt like Detroit fucking steel. “Man that’s solid. You gotta give me the number of your ‘roid dealer.”

He said nothing, just shrugged his melon-sized shoulders. See, what’d I tell you? Nerds! Can’t even have a conversation. Though I’d never seen a nerd as stacked as this dude before.

“Great talking to you.” I rolled my eyes. “‘Scuse me tho’, I got bitches to hunt.” I nodded toward the seven, whose name was Beth, I think? Or Bess? Was Bess a name? I stood in front of the dude pondering this, you know, that way you do when you’re stoned, and he turned to look.

“Her?” he said.

Something about the way he said it got my ire up. “What? I got game, bro. You think I can’t get into her pussy?”

He paused and dead-ass looked me up and down.

“I know you will,” he said.

I grinned at him. “Four words in a row. Slow down, Wad, you’re freaking me out.” I made to move past him, but he shifted his stance and blocked my path with his brick wall of muscle.

“It’s not my name,” he said.

“What??” Now this dude was beginning to piss me off. I stepped up and clenched my fists, ready to go toe-to-toe with Mr Shorty, though the acid was making my vision a little blurry.

“I said: It’s not my name. It’s what I do.”

My hyena laugh came back. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

So guess what, dude? He showed me.

I stared out at the partiers with the one eye I could still see out of. Most of them seemed to keep doing what they were doing: drinking, talking, flirting. Fewer people than you’d think stopped to watch a dude wad a grown man up into a ball.

One skinny guy looked up from his phone. “Damn, bro, you’re strong.”

What the fuck, Captain Obvious?

“Yeah,” he said.

“How much do you bench?”

“Whatever I want.”

I blinked my one eye between the dude’s thick fingers. I tried to figure out where my mouth was so I could say something.

“Mmmmfff!”

“Bro, I think he’s trying to say something,” said the skinny dude.

I watched his biceps and pecs ripple under the gray fabric of his hoodie. He shifted his hands and held me up in front of his face.

“What?”

“How?” I managed to gasp.

“I told you. It’s what I do.”

This was a circular conversation. But then, I was a ball. Fucking hilarious, right?

“Well then, why?”

“Some dudes need to be shown their place, y’know?”

“What dudes?”

“Dudes that think they can ignore me. Get wadded.”

“I wasn’t… I talked to you!”

“Making a move on a girl I got my eye on? Wadded.”

“I didn’t know!”

“Guess you do now.”

“Bro, c’mon.” The skinny guy yawned and went back to his phone.

Mr It’s-Not-My-Name-It’s-What-I-Do spun me on the tip of his finger like a basketball and I held together for a few seconds and then unravelled. I tumbled to the floor, put myself back together as best I could and then climbed back to my feet. Somehow he seemed taller than he did before, which was weird. I mean, the whole thing was weird, right?

He just stood in front of me, all jacked and indifferent, and I felt my face flush.

“You feel hot or is it just me?” I said, pulling on the collar of my t-shirt.

“Yeah,” he said. He unzipped his hoodie and shrugged it off his massive shoulders. Bro. Like, bro. I heard someone gasp like a teenage girl and then I realized it was me. He wore nothing at all underneath. I took ragged breaths as I stared like a chump at his incredible body. He had a thick muscular neck and traps that humped up nearly to his ears. His delts swelled like they’d been inflated by a tire pump. His giant pecs jumped and bounced as he scrunched up his hoodie and tossed it on a sofa. His waist was a tight shredded stack of bricks that would have broken my hand if I’d punched ‘em. The waistband of his jeans was really loose because he had to wear a bigger size to fit his damn huge quads. Despite all that he was going commando, and letting his thick, blond bush sprout out the top of the jeans.

I looked back up at his face in awe. He snorted and I was shocked to feel myself skid toward him slightly, like if he’d snorted harder I would have gone up his nose like a line of coke.

Then he turned and walked toward the kitchen.

“Gettin’ a beer,” he said.

I stared at his 747 lats and bowling ball glutes for a few seconds and then my knees wobbled and I fell into the sofa. I picked up his hoodie and held it up to see how huge it was. I stuck my arms in the sleeves and pulled it over my shoulders. It has been skin tight on him but on me it looked like I could set it up with pegs and camp in it. My eyes started to glaze over as his alpha male pheromones wafted up from the fabric. Man, I was never doing drugs again, this was such a bad trip.

“Hey.”

I looked up to see Bess (I think?) standing over me.

“You okay?”

I smiled, back in the game. “Doing better now,” I said. “I’m Ricky.”

“I’m Beth,” she said as she sat down next to me.

“You’re gorgeous, babe.”

“Awww, thanks Ricky.” She tossed her sleek black hair, and pushed out her chest. Damn she had nice tits. “This is probably weird to say. But you smell really good.”

“Thanks, Beth,” I said. “That is not even the weirdest thing someone’s said to me in the last ten minutes.”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny!”

She leaned into me like she was going to whisper something sexy in my ear. I watched, excited, as her tits heaved. Instead of whispering, she inhaled, her nose buried in the cotton of the hoodie. I felt her whole body quiver in lust. Hell yeah!

“Wow, you really smell good,” she moaned.

“I got something you can smell, babe.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t my best line ever, but I was goddamn high for fuck’s sake.

Just then, a heavy weight smashed into me like a 250-pound bowling ball was dropped in my lap. Everything went dark.

“What the fuck?” I tried to say, but my mouth was squished flat into my face by back muscle. My thighs folded up against my chest as half my body was jammed down into the crack in the back of the sofa.

“What happened to Ricky?” Beth asked.

“Who’s Ricky?” The low frequency vibes from his deep voice battered my face even flatter.

“Oh nevermind. Wow, you really smell good!”

I tried to roll my eyes, but that was hard to do since they were squished.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny!”

Oh my god, what was I doing at a party with these morons?

“That’s it I’m outta here!” I shouted, though it came out more of a mumble. Using all my strength I tried to push myself up. My forearms were the only part of my body that wasn’t squished flat by his massive back and giant thighs. I braced my elbows against the back of the sofa and pushed hard with my hands on his external obliques. This was the only part of his jacked bod I could get a grip on, since both his lats above and his glutes below flared out beyond where my stumpy half-limbs could reach.

Dude, I pushed so hard but nothing happened. Fuck. He was an immovable object and being a half-man at the time, I was no irresistible force. But somehow my drug-addled brain wouldn’t admit defeat, dude. I took as deep a breath as my pancake ribcage could manage and pushed against him with all my might. I felt some movement and groaned with even more effort as my arms pushed forward. I let out a whoop when I felt my arms extend fully, but it caught in my throat when I realized everything was still dark. I hadn’t moved his damn super heavyweight physique an inch, I’d merely pushed my noodly arms around his narrow waist. They were caught deep into the groove of his swole Apollo’s Belt. All I could do was keep pushing ’em forward.

“Should I?” I thought. Dude, I’d seen enough self-loving muscle fags flexing in the locker-room mirrors to know the pot that was at the end of that rainbow.

“Damn it, I’m no queer!” I burbled into a back muscle. You know, one of those ripply back muscles that wasn’t a trap or a lat and only nerds knew the name of. But a defiant, curious part of me was like: “I bet it’s tiny. I bet his dick is tiny and even tinier lost in all that muscle. I bet this Muscle Mary has a clit dick. A clit dick to match his bitch tits.”

With a strangled gurgle, I pressed my entire body forward so that my arms could reach further. My head mashed into the deep canyon between his lower traps. My shoulders and upper arms folded into the undulating layers of his lats, and my lower legs twisted themselves into the corrugated muscle of his hamstrings.

“Tiny dick, tiny dick!” I chanted, ignoring the pain as my rubbery hands groped into a dense grove of his pubes that scraped my skin like barbed wire. Finally my fingertips touched a squishy tube that was the size a pencil.

“Yes!” I croaked. “Tiny dick!”

A deep, rumbly laugh pummeled my Play-Doh body, vibrating me into a sticky goo that spread even further into the crevices of his Adirondacks back. The laugh went on and on. My fingers crept forward and I felt the huge salami that lay beneath the pencil. It was just a vein. A vein running along the biggest cock ever. Not only was this dude jacked the fuck out, he was monster hung! Daaaaaamn.

“This look tiny to you, babe?” he said.

Bess squealed, “Oh my god!”

“Let’s take this somewhere private.”

The dude stood up and suddenly I could see again. It wasn’t pretty.

“Strong dude!” said the skinny guy. “You got some gum or something stuck to your back.”

The dude flexed and rolled his massive traps and lats but all that did was weave my bits further into him. “Help a bro out?” he said over his shoulder.

The skinny guy pulled on the belt loop of my pants and I peeled away from the grinding gears of his muscle with a loud, goopy thwock. The skinny dude dropped me on the sofa and went back to his phone.

“Oh, hi Ricky!” said Bess. “I wondered what happened to you.”

I was wondering that too, but it took me a few moments to pull myself together, while the dude steered Bess toward the bedroom.

I finally stood up from the sofa. When I rose to my full height I was shocked to see that I was now the same height as the short dude. Actually no, I was slightly shorter.

“No,” I breathed hotly. I couldn’t be short now. “Give it back!” I yelled as I marched over to him. You could beat a man at sports. You could fuck a man’s girl. You could even wad a man up into a ball. But you couldn’t take a man’s height. That was too much. I felt my face flush in anger.

“Uh,” said Bess, “why don’t I leave you guys to work this out.” She flitted off to the kitchen.

The dude turned to me, and before I even considered what I was doing, my fist swung in an arc at his face.

He raised his hand sharply and caught my punch in his huge mitt. He closed his fingers tight around my clenched fist, which looked like a small child’s compared to his. In fact his huge fingers were each bigger than my dick. I looked past the hand to his face. Maybe it was because I didn’t bother paying that much attention to short people, but I hadn’t noticed before how handsome he was. He had stunning green eyes flecked with gold. Blond hair buzzed into a tight fade on the sides. Major cheekbones and a stubbly, cleft chin. And a square masculine jaw, measured by the devil’s own protractor. My anger ebbed, replaced by lust. For the first time since I was a teenager I got a hard-on for a dude. He didn’t even acknowledge I’d tried to sock him, he just said: “Never tried it one handed before.” He grunted with mild effort as my fist collapsed into his hand.

“What?” I said.

My gaze traveled to the muscles of his forearm, which were rippling like a nest of snakes. His thick fingers extended out like a claw, then pulled inward, compacting more of my forearm into his palm. His big, meaty thumb compressed and held the wad in place while his fingers reached out for more. Dazed, I stared dumbly as my elbow got sucked in. The weird thing was, I could feel it. I could feel him exerting his strength on my body. I could feel the counter-pressure of my wadded up arm trying to burst out his palm, and it was kind of exciting, like getting a boner in too-tight briefs.

As my bicep reached his hand I flexed it. Not to try to pull away, that seemed impossible, (and I wasn’t sure I wanted to). I flexed it just to see what would happen. It formed a small mound. I had never before thought of my biceps as small, but there was no doubt: the muscle at the base of his thumb was bigger. He met my eyes and held that thumb-muscle against my biceps like he was making damn sure I saw the comparison. Then he squashed it flat.

As he continued packing me into his fist with the fingers of one hand, something occurred to me.

“How come…” I paused, realizing my voice was hoarse. “How come there’s no pain?”

He looked offended.

“Dude. I’m not a psychopath.”

He bit down on his lower-lip as he reached my torso; he splayed his four fingers out and they mashed the right half of it in one go. Then he extended an index finger and pressed it against the top of my thigh. My whole right leg bent backwards and his pinky finger hooked it into the wad. When he got to the pelvis he did the same trick on my left leg.

I burped as a bit of gas forced its way out of my stomach. I was beginning to regret some of my choices here.

“Man, sorry I punched you.”

“That? First backbone you’ve shown dude,” he said as my literal backbone inched its way into his fist. “Makes me think I maybe misjudged you.”

“Yeah?”

He smirked. I was now just a head, arm and half-torso hanging from his hand. He leaned his head forward and I felt his hot breath in my ear.

“That’s why you’re getting the extra sexy version.”

My acid giggles came back, or it might have been the tickle of his lips on my ear. “No homo!”

My hard cock said otherwise from somewhere within the racquetball sized mass in his hand.

His pinky hooked my neck into the ball and I blindly copped a last feel of the cascading muscles of his pumped 20 inch forearm before his fist slurped up my arm like a noodle.

“One handed, bro!” he whooped.

He crushed me like Superman turning coal to diamond and then opened up his hand. I laid in his palm like an egg.

“Now that’s a fucking WAD, man. Damn tight. I’m getting better at this.”

“You are, dude!” I chirped as I blinked one eye.

“Thanks, bro. Maybe you’re all right after all. Let’s go find Beth.”

“I’ll be your wingman, bro.”

“More like Pac Man, get it?”

“Ha, ha ‘cause I’m round, right?”

“You’re getting it bro.”

It turns out, dude, that he wasn’t a nerd after all. He was just one of those guys that takes a while to warm up, y’know?

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” chanted Bess and the Skinny Dude.

I could hear him down the beer in barely four gulps. What a fucking stud! I popped my lips out of the wad, which he’d tucked between his pecs, and whistled.

“Fuck yeah, bro,” he rumbled. “Your turn.”

He flicked the cap off another beer with his thumbnail and turned it up into my mouth. At first I dribbled the liquid, coating his deep-cut eight pack with a foamy shine.

“Don’t worry, I’ll lick that off later,” Bess cooed.

Then I got the hang of it and swallowed again and again while the chug chant spurred me on. As the beer filled me up, more of me popped out of the wad. As I took the last gulps, my shrunken, twelve inch frame clung to the bottleneck, my legs swinging like a baby monkey at the zoo.

“Good job, little guy,” he said, plucking me off the bottle and holding me up in front of his huge, handsome smile.

Bess loomed over me like a beautiful giant. “Look how small you are Ricky! Babe, don’t drop him!”

But then I belched like a linebacker at a victory party and he let go in surprise. I fell down his torso, skidding over the slick rocks of his abs into the loose waist of his jeans, and came to an abrupt stop straddling the base of his huge cock. Thank fuck it was still spongy soft or my tiny balls would have been crushed!

“Aww look at him he’s so cute! Babe you’re like a kangaroo with a little joey!” said Bess as I looked up dazed from my new perch.

He looked at her weird but Skinny Dude, leaned drunkenly against him. “That’s a compliment bro, those ‘roos are jacked as shit.”

“Seriously? That’s cool, man.”

While Skinny Dude showed him a vid on his phone of two muscular kangaroos boxing, Bess leaned over and poked my tummy like I was the Pillsbury Doughboy. I giggled to make her laugh and stared at her giant tits, but then her breathing got real heavy as her hand went lower. She felt the shaft of his soft cock between my legs.

“It’s soooo big, Ricky. And he’s not even hard yet.” She winked at me like I was a co-conspirator in getting that cock in her pussy, and I started panting with lust at the image that sprung into my brain of just that, my own prick growing rock hard in an instant.

“Look, babe, Ricky’s got a little boner!” she said slyly.

“Yeah?” he said “Nice, bro.”

I looked down at my stiff rod sticking straight out. It was dwarfed by a vein that started to fill with blood as I felt the flesh beneath my ass begin to swell.

She stood up and crushed her body to his. Her soft curves molding to his stony hardness, with me caught in between. I could smell her cunt getting slick as she moaned “Fuck me!” into his ear.

“Guess what bro?” he said. “Looks like we’re getting lucky.”

We stumbled into a bedroom and she fell back on the mattress while he leaned against the door to close us off from the din of the party. Of its own accord, his giant cock busted open the fly of his jeans as it swelled to its full cunt-busting length. I gasped as I stared at the huge purple helmet towering over my head as his thick shaft crushed me into his navel.

“Babe—” she stuttered. “Do you have a condom?”

His rumbly chuckle vibrated my bones to jelly and he plucked me up and rolled me flat between two fingers.

“See, bro, I told you you’d get into her pussy.”

Isn’t that fucked, dude? Have you ever heard a story as crazy as that? It’s all true, no word of lie. In fact, dude, I feel flushed, and jacked as shit since I left there. At first, I had a huge headache from how my head kept pounding into her cervix. Yeah, bro, that huge cock really filled her up to the max. And when she came, that cunt pounded back, dude. Fuck! And then he busted, filling my fucking latex ass with primo jock muscle juice.

Once they fell asleep, I pried myself off that big cock and squeezed my hole to keep every bit of that stud cum in me. Fuck man, I was back to normal height in seconds! And look man, muscles like I never seen before in all my life. Feel that bicep bro, big and hard as a rock. I said feel it bro. Where do you think you’re going, you little shit? Feel that muscle I said. Who are you calling a weird ass motherfucker? I tell you a cool story and then you try to split like a chump? C’mere you. Hrgh. Hnnnn. That’s right, who’s weird now, dirtbag? Hrggh. How do you like being a ball, fucker?

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