Unexpected Trip
I involuntarily scratched at the overstretched polo I was wearing, struggling to contain my two perfectly round and densely muscled pecs. I had hit chest hard last night, my favorite muscle group, although I made sure not to neglect any muscle group on my 6'6" and 270 lbs frame. My arms are huge, obscenely sticking out of the polo as well, while I kept my body fat under control with a nice outline of my rugged abs just peeking out from underneath the polo whenever I stretched. My quads and calves were nicely contained in a pair of athletic cut jeans which created extra room for my thighs. Normally, I would not wear jeans at work, but today was Friday and my last day, and I was just going to be in for a few hours to wrap up some last minute items before handing in my laptop and shredding any client materials I had. My summer internship at the law firm had gone tremendously well; the partners were very pleased with my attention-to-detail and by how quickly I turned around assignments. Normally, summers (that's what they call us) don't work too hard, but I wanted to make some good connections and get a reputation for quality work, and it paid off with the offer I go to work full-time once I graduated next year.
My phone buzzed and I saw that I had a new message from Brian via Facebook Messanger. With the third year of law school starting in three weeks, I still did not have housing lined up. My internship was in Los Angeles but I went to school in D.C. and that made it inconvenient to shop around myself. My plan was to find a roommate already in D.C. and have them do the legwork. To do this, I posted a message in my law school's Facebook group, with a quick line about my situation and desire to team up with someone who needed a roommate. Brian must have seen the message.
"Hey man, I think I have a good place. Do you have time for a quick phone call?"
I knew nothing about this Brian, he must be an incoming student since I knew pretty much everyone at the law school, but that was fine. My only requirement in my post was that I was looking for a two bedroom / 2 bathroom apartment, since I disliked sharing bathrooms. I probably should not be taking personal calls at work but it was just about lunch time and a quick chat wouldn't hurt. I quickly responded:
"Hey Brian, sure thing. My number is XXX-XXX-XXXX."
Brian called a few seconds later.
>"Hey Mark, I saw your ad and there's a pretty good place close to campus that's two bed / two bath. I'm surprised it hasn't been rented out yet."
>>"That's awesome. I'm not picky since it's just for my last year. If you want to go ahead and schedule a visit, that would be great. If it checks out for you, I'm prepared to sign the lease and pay a deposit."
>"Uhhh, I would really rather you saw the place with me. I don't want you to get annoyed later if it's not to your liking and then we have a big mess if we try to break the lease."
>>"I suppose that's fair. Besides, we haven't even met yet, so I see where you're coming from. Still, if the place is great, I don't want to lose it. I'm sure we'll get along well."
>"I have to insist, Mark. I know you live far away, but picking an apartment is a big decisions, and I..."
This wasn't getting anywhere. I suppose that I could schedule a quick trip and maybe see a few other places if Brian's apartment fell through.
>>"I hear you, Brian. Have you set up a time with the landlord to check out the place? I can book a flight tonight or this weekend and see the place with you."
>"Cool. Yeah, I made an appointment for Monday. Landlord seemed nice over the phone..."
I checked Expedia for flight and hotel packages as Brian was talking. The flights were a bit more expensive than usual, but to be expected given the short-notice. Still, I found a nice package that would have me flying out tonight after work, get me two nights at the hotel, and allow me to fly back late on Monday. Enough time to see Bryan's place and a few others if necessary.
>>"Alright, I am booking a flight tonight. Text me the address and the meeting time with the landlord when you get a chance. I look forward to meeting you. If you have time, we can meet up at my hotel beforehand to get to know one another as well."
>"That's great. I'm busy today but I can meet you tomorrow. I'll text you the info know and text me back with your hotel info when you get a chance."
>>"Sure thing Brian. See you tomorrow."
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. I wrapped up my final assignment, then went for a late lunch with one of the partners. She seemed distracted during our lunch, constantly checking me out, especially when I would stretch from time to time, making my biceps bulge. I could tell she was flirting but the huge ring on her finger told me she was married, and that was where I drew the line. When we finished, she paid (well, technically the firm paid, since this was considered a business development lunch), and we stood up. It was almost comical how her slender 5' frame matched up with my own. The urge to offer to go back to her place on some work pretext and play with her tiny supple body almost made me reconsider my policy of respecting marriage, but I held firm. We made the short walk to the office and parted ways. I knocked on the door of a few other partners who I worked most closely with to give my thanks and goodbyes, and after making one final check that everything was done, I powered down the laptop and dropped it off at the technology office.
I made my way back to the apartment I was subleasing for the summer. I changed into my gym gear and jogged about ten minutes to the gym. I had a grueling back and biceps workout scheduled that day. I started with some heavy deadlifts, added in some weighted pull-ups, a few back machine exercises, and then finished things off with a superset of preacher curls and free-weight biceps curls. My arms must have been around 20" while pumped and a few big veins on the biceps and forearms became prominent. I would normally do a bit of cardio after, but I glanced at the clock, and decided to end things a little early, since I still needed to shower, pack, and get to the airport to make the flight.
I must have been a little distracted as I headed out of the gym, since I accidentally bumped into a lanky 6'1" guy. He was holding a basketball and was exiting the basketball court and neither of us saw the other as we headed towards the same exit door. I barely felt anything but the basketball player was already on the ground, his basketball rolling away.
>"Watch where you're going asshole!" he grunted with a pained expression.
Normally, I am quite polite, but that comment was uncalled for and at worst, we were both at fault for the collision. I decided not to be so polite.
>>"Sorry short stuff, didn't see you there." I had an evil little smirk paitned on my face. Men over 6 feet tall hated being called short, so I knew the guy would get even angrier.
>"Whatever asshole, pay attention next time!"
The basketball player was still on the ground. I walked right to his feet and offered my pumped arm, grasping his tiny one to help pick him up. Instead of helping him up though, I pretended to slip and landed my entire torso right on his lanky frame, instantly knocking the wind out of him. I flexed my chest and had it digging into his far smaller one, while whispering to his ear in a voice low enough that only he could hear:
"You're lucky I'm in a hurry, little guy, otherwise I would have had a lot of fun playing with you."
I then instantly got to my feet and walked out of the gym, not even looking back to see if basketball player was alright.
* * *
I showered, packed a few clothes for the weekend, checked-in for my flight through the phone, remembered to bring my phone charger, and then headed out the door. A short metro ride later and I was at the airport, through security, and sitting outside my gate, a full hour before boarding. I remembered that I had not eaten any dinner yet, so I perused the various restaurants and fast food places, eventually settling on a Five Guys, where I ordered two double cheeseburgers and a "little" fries with a diet Pepsi. I took a quick trip to the bathroom, flexed a few times in the mirror after washing my hands, and then headed back to my gate. I pulled up my phone and started reading a novel called "The Centurions" about two brothers, each born on the same day, but one born a slave and the other an heir to a now wealthy Roman general, who were training together at home in preparation for becoming Centurions (basically sergeants in the Roman army). A couple of chapters in, the boys celebrate their 18th birthdays, the slave being granted his freedom, and I fantasized being their unarmed combat instructor.
>"You're both supposed to be men today, but you punch worse than my grandmother!"
I kept taunting their diminutive size and pathetic striking power, barking at them to keep attacking me while I easily evaded their attacks or let them hit me just to show them how pathetically useless they were. I would then grab the first brother, Flavius, and wrap my impossibly large right arm around his tiny pencil neck, grasp my left bicep with my right arm, and start applying a gentle squeeze. I would enjoy the sensation of Flavius beating my arms uselessly as he quickly faded away to unconsciousness, while the other brother, Correus, sought to come to the rescue. As Correus lunges forward, I would drop the snoozing Flavius to the ground, then tackle Correus roughly to the ground. I would inch my monumental quads on either side of his face and squeeze, relishing the total power I had on the squirming Correus below. I would then flex my arms and make my pecs dance in a dominant display, while squeezing Correus's head and making him turn red below. Next, I pull Correus a bit further out and wrap my gigantic legs across his chest, squeezing with rib-bending force as Correus struggles to scream by has too little oxygen to sound out more than a whimper. I would then flip him over and just lie on top of him, squashing him to the training ground's sand below, just letting my sheer mass grind him to the ground. After a few minutes of fun doing that, I slide my muscled arm underneath Correus's chin and proceed to pump my huge bicep periodically into his thin neck, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing, squeezing holding and releasing, never giving him a chance at a full uninterrupted breath. I would then notice Flavius, slowly starting to wake up. I would grab both brothers in each one of my arms and the bearhug both of them together, each brother with his back to the other, and squeeze with such unrestrained power and fury that I would hear a couple of ribs crunch, each brother now fully awake from the pain and screaming for release. I would rearrange them both so they were now facing each other, then press again with everything I have, squashing them together and...
>>"AA flight 2088 is now boarding. Customers with small children and active duty military may now board."
The announcement pulled me back into reality. I noticed my jeans bulging somewhat but that couldn't be helped. I moved my luggage in front of my seat and checked my phone, where I had stored the boarding pass in my Apple Wallet. I happened to be in Group 6 so it would be a few minutes yet before I boarded. I thought about going back to the novel but decided against it, instead opting for checking the weather in D.C. and perusing the hotel's website. It looks like it has a pool, which I will have to make use of.
Eventually, it was my turn to board, but by then, most of the plane was already filled. I grabbed the red tag from the airline worker, twisted it against my luggage handle, and detached the numbered portion. I dropped off my luggage in a small pile just before boarding the airplane itself. I would have to wait a few minutes after arrival to retrieve my luggage. Couldn't be helped.
I greeted the airline attendant and then carefully made my way to towards the back of the plane. The space between the seats was quite narrow and I found myself brushing up against seated passengers, but powered through. I was assigned seat 35C, all the way in the back of the plane. The plane itself was packed with passengers, so I would not be able to switch to a more comfortable open seat. On reaching 35C, I found a young guy, probably in his 20s, seated in 35F in the window seat adjacent to mine. I happened to make eye contact with him so said "hello" politely, before sitting down in the tiny seat and buckling myself in. At least I could put my right leg and much of the right side of my body in the space to my right. With it being the final seat, I would not be disturbing anyone. With that adjustment made, I was almost comfortable, although my massive left shoulder and arm was still bumping against my neighbor to the left.
If my neighbor was annoyed by that, he didn't make any protest. Instead, a few minutes later, he turned to me:
>"Hey, my name is John and this is my first flight, so I'm kinda scared."
>>"Hey John, I'm Mark. There's nothing to be afraid of. Airlines are the safest mode of travel. Driving to the airport is far more dangerous than the flight itself."
I could tell this recitation of statistics did little to assuage John. I tried a different tack.
>>"I've been on dozens of flights, John. You get used to it pretty quickly, especially once we take off."
John still looked afraid. He had a tiny body, I was guessing under 5' and 100 lbs, so much so that he seemed to be totally comfortable in the tiny airline seat. His visage consisted of fair skin, brown hair, and a two-day stubble covering his cheeks, chin, and neck. John was far more afraid than anyone else I've ever flown with before. He started muttering to himself imperceptibly. I was getting worried that he'd totally freak out and need to leave the plane, probably causing a delay. Irritated, I released my left arm and caused it to wrap around John's tiny frame.
John seemed stunned at first, but he quickly stopped muttering and seemed to be calming down.
>"Hey thanks, I needed that hug. Your arm is huge!"
>>"No worries John, I can hold you like this if it makes you feel safer. There really is nothing to worry about."
>"Yeah, I'd really like that. At least until we take off."
Ten minutes later, we heard the flight attendant instructions and our plane was starting to power up on the runway. John's fear seemed to be increasing and he looked like he was about to scream. I flexed my left arm and used it to pull John closer to my huge left pec. Again, John seemed to calm down some, though still looked afraid.
>"I... I... I think I need to get off. I need to get off this plane."
>>"No, John. Everything is fine. Just relax, we're about to take off."
>"NO... no, I need to push the red button. I need a flight attendant... this is... I can't handle this."
I quickly ran through what would happen in my mind. Most likely, the flight attendant would respond, see John shaken out of his wits, and let the Captain now. We'd likely have to taxi back to the gate, get John out of the flight, and then have to wait again for our turn to take off. In short, hours of delays over an extremely irrational fear. My connecting flight might leave without me and it would probably be a nightmare to get to DC, not just for me but for all the other passengers.
>>"John, I know you can do this. I'm just going to help you, try to relax."
I now flexed my left arm and noticed that it exceeded the size of John's head while fully flexed. I used my arm to bring John's face directly touching my left pec, which I was also pumping up. John tried to resist by clawing at my big left arm with both of his little stick arms, but I responded merely by increasing the pressure. I noticed that I was getting a bit of a bulge in my pants, the thought that I was controlling little John with just one arm while in a seated position, maybe combined with the fact that I was doing something technically illegal, made me excited. No one else on the plane seemed to be looking in our little corner. Already, John's little head was getting red and his attempts at resistance were becoming all the more desperate but equally futile. I took a deep breath and really expanded my chest, and in a moment, I noticed that John was completely out like a light. I decreased the pressure of my squeeze and noticed John's delicate features, his little nose breathing in and out, while his eyes remained closed and he seemed fast asleep. I kept my little hug on John with my left arm, but without applying any pressure.
About ten minutes later, I noticed John stirring awake. His eyes opened cautiously. At first, he seemed relaxed, but then remembering his surroundings, his eyes once again assumed the expression of a frightened rabbit. Before he could do anything, I increased the squeeze with my left arm again:
>>"John, relax. You're safe. You've been flying for at least ten minutes. Everything is okay."
>"You put me to sleep, Mark! I didn't tell you you could..."
>>"You didn't need to, I saw that you were struggling and helped you get through the worst of it. Now, you can see that everything is fine and I'm going to slide my arm away..."
>"No, don't! I... I like it. I really feel safe like this. In fact, if you wouldn't mind squeezing a little tighter, I love this sensation, just don't knock me out again."
I was a little puzzled with John's response but happy to oblige. I spent the next thirty minutes squeezing and releasing, sometimes turning up the pressure so much that I felt John about to get knocked out, and sometimes applying almost no pressure and letting John explore my muscled left arm and left pec. It was fun for me and it seemed to be distracting John from the fear of flying. During one of the lulls, when I was not applying much pressure, John started to speak:
>"You're so fucking strong. It blows my mind that you could put me to sleep with just one of your arms."
I chuckled lightly. That's not all I could do with someone as tiny as John if given the chance.
Just then, a flight attendant with a beverage cart was barreling down the plane. I gently withdrew my arm. The flight attendant looked over to the folks in 35 A and D on the other side, but both were asleep. She then looked at me with her piercing green eyes and asked:
>"Anything I can get you folks?"
I politely declined. John requested an orange juice and some pretzels. The pretty flight attendant moved on to the next row and in a few minutes was out of sight. John happily munched on his pretzels and sipped them down with the orange juice, looking quite content. I closed my eyes, attempting to get some sleep, but a few minutes later, I felt John poke my arm from the side.
>"Hey big guy... Mark. Wanna switch seats? I want to feel what it's like to be squeezed by your right arm... if you're cool with that?" John's face was hilariously cute, almost like a small child asking for an extra piece of candy from its parent.
>>"Sure" I grunted. I unbuckled my seat belt and stood out, knowing that despite John's petite size, he would not be able to easily slide past me. When he was standing next to me in the aisle, I couldn't help but smirk at our obvious size difference. My bulging arms, massive chest, and huge quads were straining their clothes, while little John looked underweight, the top of his head barely at my nipple line. I resisted the urge to bearhug John in the aisle, despite knowing that I'd relish the feeling of my meaty arms compressing his tiny frame and probably knocking him out again in a few seconds. Instead, I hopped to the window seat and strapped in, and John followed suit in what was my chair. I slid my right arm around him and brought him closer to me, then alternately pumped my right arm and right pec. Once, I squeezed a bit too hard, and felt John slump against me, knocked out again. I cursed silently at my clumsiness; generally I have such great muscle control, but it seemed that John was even more fragile than he looked.
A few minutes later, he came to, and didn't seem upset about it. We talked a bit in between squeezes, I found out that he was a computer engineer working for Boeing. He had accepted a generous promotion but the new job required him to travel to D.C. to help out with a yearly presentation to members of Congress and this was his first trip there.
I was getting a bit tired. I checked the watch and it would still be another three hours before the flight landed in Lexington, KY for the connecting flight to DC.
>>"I'm going to get some sleep, hopefully until we land. Are you good awake or do you want to join me?"
>"I'm good with flying now, it doesn't seem so bad."
>>"Wrong answer, little man." I chuckled as I slipped my right arm under John's chin and caught his neck. I pumped my biceps, eliciting some surprised shrieks every time my giant arm exploded against John's little neck.
>"Come on man, I... don't want... uggghhhh"
I squeezed a little harder and held it, feeling John turn limp a few seconds later. It wasn't that I didn't respect John's wishes, but I knew that if I left him alone he'd poke me half an hour later, when I was in a deep sleep, and tell me that he's changed his mind. Why bother with all that?
A few minutes later, my eyes were starting to get heavy. I half-noticed the flight attendant stop by again, offering beverages and small snacks, but this time everyone in the back was asleep and she quickly moved on. I started getting a dream where John and I were facing each other in the sandy training around I had fought Correus and Flavius in not long ago.
I started by chasing down little John, my legs pumping away, propelling me with great speed as I closed in on John desperately trying to escape, and I would just lunge forward and wrap myself around John, tackling him roughly to the sand. I would then place my full weight on John as he struggled to push me away and create space to escape. Eventually, I'd let him slip out and run for a few seconds, before I leisurely got up and chased him down again. Tackle after tackle, each time knocking his wind out, feeling his squirm beneath me and struggle to support my muscled body which heavily outweighed his.
After an endless number of tackles, I decided to have a little more fun with John, and slid his puny body beneath mine and wrapped my quads around his belly. I then flipped to the side and flexed my arms, gently squeezing with my legs at first, before bearing down hard and hearing John's little screams and his frantic tapping of my body. I would hold it for a little while and then ease off, then a few seconds later clamp up the pressure again, hear those musical effeminate screams before decreasing the pressure, and so on. Sometimes, I would wrap my right arm around John's little neck as well, and alternate squeezes with my legs with squeezes with my arm, and sometimes both at once, stopping only when I heard John's abject pleas for me to stop.
I then transitioned to wrapping my impossibly huge legs around John's neck in a triangle choke, his left arm trapped within. I would slowly increase the squeeze, feel the lights flicker and almost turn off in John's eyes, before easing off and letting him just hang there, panting, breathing hard and feeling my crotch tingle with excitement over the feeling of domination and unbridled power I was displaying. Without warning, I would clamp down again and repeat the process. Sometimes, I would hold on for a little too long, watch John get knocked out completely and his petite limp form completely supported by my legs. I would then stop the pressure and gently slap him with my arms, rousing him, but clamping down again with my legs before he was fully awake, squeezing hard until he was completely out. I would then let off on the pressure, slap him awake, but bear down again as soon as I felt he was back, and knock him out one more time. Now, my thighs were starting to vibrate, maybe because they were starting to cramp, or maybe because they were getting a mind of their own, the desire to grasp John's tiny little neck between their meaty muscle bellies and squeeze with enough force to completely break those neck bones. Just as the urge to do that was becoming overpowering, I felt my body getting poked hard. I opened my eyes to John shoving me with all his might:
>"Mark... Mark wake up. Wake up! The plane has landed!"
TO BE CONTINUED
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