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m/m The Adventures of a Mighty Mouse - Parts 1 - 5

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“But you’re as small as a mouse!”


“Yeah, but a mighty mouse.”


“Dude, you’re a dweeb - a shrimp.  There’s no way you should be able to do that!”


“What can I say, I’ve just been blessed with power beyond your imagination.  You should see what happens if I really squeeze.  Scares you, doesn’t it?”


I removed my hand from the top of the hammer.  His face turned as white as a sheet. The steel head was now mangled and crushed into something unrecognizable – something insubstantial.  My fingers had squeezed the tool with so much ease, even I had been impressed.  I was clearly getting much stronger and that could only mean one thing – it was time to go out and find even more bullies for me to terrorize.  I needed to do more cleaning.  This present scum was known across campus for being rude and abusive to girls he dated.  I had ‘dropped by’ for an unexpected visit with the intention of making sure he was always nice to the ladies in the future.  He had opened the door and his very tall frame had caused him to look over my much shorter body – missing me completely.  I had to clear my throat for him to notice.  He had looked down and actually laughed at my size – my head below his pecs.  Laughed, because he had not been introduced to my power at that point.  When I told him, I was there to correct some of the mistakes he had made with women on campus, he guffawed even louder and went to close his door.  My palm had then been placed on the hollow metal fireproof barrier and its movement stopped abruptly – completely catching Mr. Rude off guard.  He glanced down to the floor to see what was in the way, seeing nothing.  He pushed harder and his eyes got wider when the thing didn’t move and his pea-brain started to connect the dots.  He looked at me and I smiled.  That’s when I gently started pushing the door back open with my mousey hand and he had doubled down his efforts – foolishly, I might add – to stop me from coming in.  When the thing was completely open and the guy was freaking out at the dented in metal around my palm, I flicked the back of my other hand against his mid-section and sent him flying into his dorm room where he landed on his butt some ways back.  During the time it took him to catch his breath and realize he had been flicked by a dweeb – merely flicked – to the floor, I came inside and shut the door behind me.  I turned around, smiling at how he now had to look up to me – his butt on the floor.  He’d have to find a way to explain the caved-in metal to his dorm mother – that wasn’t my concern. 


“I must be dreaming,” the big guy said as I handed him the hammer.


He had been saying that a lot since I arrived.  I, myself, sometimes felt that way – I mean, to be able to flick the back of my hand into a grown guy and send him flying was pretty unbelievable.  I had to admit, however, that it also turned me on.  To have turned into this secret bully patrol of the campus sounded like I was being altruistic and heroic, but I did it mostly because I got to shock guys with my power – and that fueled my late-night wank sessions more than any morphed muscleman pictures on the internet.  Big guys just couldn’t fathom a little dude with my kind of power.  It made them crazy with confusion – and shame, I think.  In typical jock-boy fashion, as soon as the bully had regained his breath he jumped up and came running at me – intending to squash me between his big shoulder and the door.  I waited with glee, as my cock started to dance in anticipation.  Come on, what normal blooded human male doesn’t want to be able to instantly stop a charging bull with his body – just by standing there with his hands on his hips and being so incredibly dense nothing could unmoor him.  This time, I felt a little sorry about the pain my unmoving body inflicted – but it was his own fault.  The wind inside him was knocked out even more with this powerful jolt.  His body froze against mine for a few seconds.  He then slid down my leg to lie flat-faced on the ground, moaning from the agony.  That sound – a guy breathing hard and whimpering just because he was trying to recover from being introduced to all my power – made my balls pulse and my heart beat with joy.  I stepped to the side of the dude, reached down to grab the back of his jeans, and easily lifted his body into the air.  Here was what most people would call a scrawny ninety-pound weakling picking up a huge college football player like he was as light as a stray sock.  I then tossed him across the room onto his bed.  The moans of pain turned into moans of complete and utter shock as he turned to gaze at me with a look that could only be described as total fear.  I was ruining all of his preconceived knowledge of the laws of the jungle.  The biggest had to be the strongest!  As I moved closer I explained how things were going to be from now on – he was going to be nice to the ladies and, actually, nice to everyone, he was going to never mention me or my powers to anyone, and if he broke either of these new rules I would return and do to him what I was going to do to the hammer I pulled out of my backpack.  I banged on the top of his desk a few times to show him it was a genuine steel tool for building or tearing down.  I then wrapped my small hand around the top and squeezed.  His eyes had bulged wide when he saw deformed metal seep out between my tiny fingers.  There was also this high-pitched screeching sound that had actually come to cause the little nipples on my slight, concave chest to turn hard since I knew it was steel giving up against my small, but mighty hand.  Now, watching the dude shaking his head back and forth in disbelief as I handed him the crushed hammer, I became fully aroused and knew I’d have to get back to the privacy of my own dorm room pretty quickly to relieve myself.  That, in and of itself, posed different kinds of problems since my ejaculations could power through concrete or stronger stuff with no problem.  I kept having to hang up new posters all over my place to cover up the damage I had done.  I could have imagined how that news would have made the bully feel even more insecure. 


“So, big guy, have I made myself clear?  Or should I squeeze some part of you like I did the hammer just to drill my point in a little more?”


“No!” he screamed, still holding the hammer and staring at its head, “I understand.  I understand.  Be nice and not a word to anyone.  I promise.”


“Good man.  Good, changed man.  And now, I must be off – in more ways than one.”


‘Wait, mister,” he said, and the added title of respect for little old me brought a smile to my face, as well as bringing me a lot closer to orgasm, “Will you come back sometime and show off your strength again?  It’s so fucking hot.”


This was a first.  So, our big bully had a strength fetish.  There was probably a connection between that and what he did to others, but I wasn’t a therapist.  I did, however, figure a frequent reminder to him about my strength would have him being nicer than the best altar boy at church pretty much for forever, so I nodded my head. 


“You’ll need to supply the tools,” I said, smiling and leaving him – still dumbfounded and staring at the demolished hammer like it was some religious artifact.


As I quickly made my way home, I remembered being told about three bullies who had been terrorizing people at the campus gym.  A quick stop there, to see if my future converts were working out would be fun.  It would also add some much-welcomed fuel to my promised powerful ejaculation.     

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Please continue! I love these type of stories. The little guy teaching the big muscular, tough jock a lesson and I loved how the football player wanted him to come back. 

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10 hours ago, JasperGhost said:

Please continue! I love these type of stories. The little guy teaching the big muscular, tough jock a lesson and I loved how the football player wanted him to come back. 

Same!   And by the second visit probably want something else.  😋

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Adventure Number 2


On my way to the gym I had willed my powerful body to calm down and I wasn’t on the precipice of explosion like I had been earlier.  I was, however, still internally jacked from putting the bully in his place back in the dorm room.  Manhandling the hammer like it had been tinfoil had left me dying to show off more.  I saw four guys sitting on a park bench over in a private area of one of the multiple campus quads and decided a slight detour to have some fun would be okay. 


“Hey guys, mind if I do some curls with the four of you you?” I asked, waiting for them to turn to look at me and then putting my hands dramatically between the two middle back slats of the bench.


“Dude, the only thing those skinny arms of yours are going to curl is toilet paper rolls and even those are going to give a mousy guy like you a struggle,” said the heaviest of the four – as he crammed potato chips in his mouth.  All of them were playing games on their phones.


“Good one, Wycoff!” another one of the four said, leaning over to high five his friend.


I smiled – knowing that I was about to rock their world, literally.  The strength coursing through my limbs was like some warm drink rushing through my body, making me tremble with excitement.  It took a lot of control to not snap the thing into the air hard and send them flying over a nearby building.  I did contemplate how fun it would be to wrap the four of them up in the metal thing, but I wasn’t that kind of guy.  I did, however, almost come on the spot when the bench went up into the air and all four guys grabbed hold of the thing like they were on some terrifying roller coaster in a theme park.  It was the kind of reaction that always my crotch a special jolt.


“What the fuck,” Wycoff yelled and bent forward – quite nimbly for a guy his size – to see what machine was lifting them under the bench.  His face was ashen white when he looked back up.  “The dude is really lifting us.  He ripped up big chunks of concrete with the bench!  The dweeb is fucking lifting us!”


In my haste to show off I had forgotten that the bench would certainly be bolted deeply into the sidewalk.  This was potentially a costly mistake, but then I remembered that I’d be able to slam it back into place without any problem.  I started curling the bench and the four guys with perfect form and a rhythm sure to cause motion sickness.


“How?” Wycoff asked, looking at me – along with the other three.


“Well, first of all I ate all of my vegetables growing up and when I went through puberty in the eighth grade I suddenly got the strength of one thousand men.  I woke up one morning able to do things like this.  Not sure why, but it’s pretty hot, isn’t it?”


“Hot?  It’s scary as hell.  Please put us down!”


“Fellas, I think it means you four need to put on a lot more weight if a runt like me can so easily power all of you in the air for so many reps – not to mention ripping concrete apart like it was paper.  Listen, my four wide-eyed, opened mouthed shocked little friends, I just really wanted to show off for you.  For me, letting people see my strength is kind of on par with the feeling we all got from our first kiss or our first ejaculation.  I simply get off on watching guys freak out when I do powerful things.  But here’s the deal – I want my strength kept a secret.  See, I’m slowly ridding this university of any and all bullies.  The kind of guys that have probably picked on you four all of your lives.  So, I’d appreciate total silence on the short skinny dude that can lift four guys as easy as those toilet paper rolls you mentioned earlier – that includes no posts on social media, by the way.  And if for some foolish reason you decide to not honor my request . . . well, I’d just have to find you and treat you like you were this bench.”


The high-pitched squeal of metal being bent pierced the night air.  I was making the center of the bench cave into a V-shape as I brought both of my hands upward and inward.  This caused the four guys to slide into each other and then start to get very uncomfortable as I easily folded up the bench around them.  Their faces definitely showed that they were worried about what I was going to do, but I stopped, suddenly, smiled and then straightened out the bench – kind of – again.  It looked wonky and still had a big dip in the middle.  I thrust my hands downward and the bench sank even lower into the ground than it was before.  It was not going anywhere.  The movement made the guys bounce up in the air and come back down hard on the metal.  I let go, noticing Wycoff even more shocked than before when he noticed the indentions of my hands on the metal slats.


“Did you enjoy the show, fellas?” I asked and smiled even broader when all four of them silently nodded their head up and down.  “I’m glad and do we have an understanding about the silence concerning my abilities?” 


The nodding, this time, was bigger and came with mumbles of ‘no way I’m talking,’ and ‘I won’t say a thing.’  Just to give them a little encore and to make sure my request for anonymity would be honored, I reached out and grabbed the top slat of the bench with both hands.  I then pushed forward with my right hand as I pulled back with my left.  The steel slat easily tore apart.  I used my hands to push in the jagged edges of both sides – didn’t want anyone to tear their clothes – and left a noticeable gap in the middle.  I knew every time those guys passed the bench or came back to sit on it – something I knew they would do – they would remember my power and the promise they made.


“So, any of you cool dudes ever get bullied by three big guys at the gym?” I asked and all of them nodded their heads again.  “Can you tell me their names or describe them.  I’m on my way to pay them a visit – intending for them to get a little taste of my power, too.  I’m thinking they’ll quickly be changing their attitude in the gym, fellas, so no need to be afraid of going.  My chats tend to convince guys to be nicer.”


There was a chorus of information that would be helpful and I quickly realized these guys had been seriously picked on for a long time.  I realized they were exactly who I wanted to use my powers to help.  These four guys should not have to live in fear or not go to the gym just because some jerks thought it would be fun to abuse them.   This thought definitely added fuel to my desire to be the mighty mouse of the campus – ridding the place of scumbags who thought it was okay to be mean to other people.  Wycoff raised his hand like a grammar school kid when I finished speaking.  I nodded to him.


“Yes, you in the front.  You have a question?”


“Not really a question . . . more of a favor.”


“Shoot away, dude, I’m feeling generous and super powerful.”


“Would you bend the lamppost over there – like into an S shape or something, just to freak out campus security.”   


“Why, it would be this little guy’s pleasure to make that nasty lamppost submit to my super strength.  You just like the sound of screeching metal, don’t you?” I asked and the question was followed by four head vigorously nodding again.  “So do I, fellas, so do I.”


I walked over to the post and the four guys were off of the demolished bench in less than a second – standing around me in a semi-circle, ready for the show.  I looked at all of them and decided I needed to do it up powerful for these guys.  I placed my right forefinger against the pole slightly above midway up.  Wycoff let out a loud quick whimper when he saw what I was going to do.  I had a feeling the dude would be abusing his own pole later on that night as the vision of me so easily abusing the lamppost replayed in his mind over and over.  I pushed, with as much motion as someone might use on an elevator button – but a slight press by my finger was like on ocean liner parting the water.  I was five feet, four inches tall – in other parts of the world I was about one-hundred and sixty-two centimeters, which sounded better – and I weighed no more than one hundred and forty pounds (sixty-three kilograms, which didn’t sound better) when I was fully clothed and soaking wet.  I went to concerts and had to stand on chairs to see over the crowd.  Bartenders always ignored me, saying it was because they didn’t notice me, but I knew it was because I was so small.  I had to use a stepladder to get things from the kitchen shelves at my parents’ house.  I still bought some of my clothes in the children’s department.  But when I pushed my forefinger forward the lamppost instantly buckled on the opposite side and I pushed it down into a right angle – a not fully formed letter T.  My one finger made the solid steel pole of the light easily do my bidding – submitting to my power as if it were nothing more than candle wax.  I was nervous Wycoff was going to bust a big load right there, judging by the moans he was making.  I then walked over and put the same forefinger under and midway up the part of the pole sticking out like a diving board.  With the same ease and slight amount of power I used before, I pulled and made the top of the lamppost stick straight up again.  The pole now had a stair-step shape to it and the creases were steel that had been manipulated something powerful, but no one would have guessed by a scrawny mighty mouse.


“Meet with your approval, gentlemen?” I asked and this time I didn’t get nods, I simply got four simultaneous stifled moans – as if each guy was trying hard not to ejaculate because of my power.  “Well, fellas, this has been really fun, but I was thinking of heading to the gym and using three big bullies as my weights for a workout.  I’m sure we’ll bump into one another again, well you don’t want to actually bump into me because it’s kind of like running into the side of a mountain and you’ll end up on the ground in pain.  Let’s just say we’ll see each other around campus.  When you pass this piece of finger-powered artwork in the future I hope you’ll think of me fondly.  Goodnight fellas.”


As I walked away I heard the sound of four footsteps running back to individual dorms – each guy intent on some much-needed release because of my display of power.  That made me happy.  That made this mighty mouse excited to make some new friends at the gym.

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I can hardly wait for mighty mouse to start his gym routine.  Please keep it coming and thanks,  your stories make my pole need some relief.  😂😂

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I know I don't comment much anymore, but when I see something like this, something that is right up my alley like this so is, I can't help but say something,, tiny, but ultra-strong guys showing off, wish there was more stuff like this out there! Keep up the great work LB! 

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Adventure Number Three


As I walked to the gym I began to realize that ripping a bench loaded with four big guys out of the sidewalk had been easier than I would have thought.  It didn’t even register to my toothpick arms that concrete was being torn apart as I easily yanked steel bolted to the ground into the air.  And then pushing the steel column of the lamppost with what people would call a wimpy forefinger had been so unbelievably simple that I went slow just to make sure I didn’t slam the thing into the ground or easily snap it in two.  I was getting stronger – much stronger – just as I had noticed with the hammer in the jock’s room earlier.  What did it mean?  When would my power stop?  When I had my first wet dream at age twelve, I woke up the next morning and threw out my arms in a big yawn and stretch – but my fist was aimed for the headboard.  I pummeled through the heavy wood with no problem, but then my fist went completely though the wall, too.  All the way to the outside.  You could see my neighbors’ house through the big hole – I had busted through drywall and concrete.  That day I crushed seven door knobs, I shoved my brother to get out my way and he flew across the back yard, I ripped two doors off the hinges and away from their frame, and then I threw a dodgeball with a little too much strength and accidentally sent our coach and P.E. instructor soaring into the bleachers when I accidentally hit him with a bad throw.  Luckily, nothing was broken.  That was in junior high.  I had become stronger every year since then and now I was a freshman in college with so much strength that I actually didn’t know just how powerful I truly was.   This day’s feats had been a breeze, child’s play for me.  I could feel the fact that, even though I was very thin, my body was now so thick – so dense – that even a speeding truck would be totaled if it hit me – and I wouldn’t move a bit.  What was next?  Super breath, able to blow down a building.  Would I get x-ray vision, be able to change into fire or grow huge and green when I got angry?  All of it was still a mystery to me, but I was damaging too many things by accident.  I shook the hand of my big burly mechanic the other day, forgetting to shake lightly – mainly because he’s such a handsome dude – and sent him to his knees because I gripped too hard.  A mechanic depended on his hands for his job, too.  Was I eventually going to get too powerful to do normal things like hug someone or give a ‘high five’?  Would blowing someone a kiss send him through all the walls of the house? 


And then there was the fact that I still looked like a dorky shrimp to everyone else – even to myself when I looked in the mirror.  But that’s not the way I felt on the inside.  I felt immortal.  I felt like I towered over everyone and could intimidate others just by a slight movement of my arm.  But I wasn’t as huge as the Hulk – even though I was just as strong.  I was this runt of a fella that could lift the back of an SUV with one finger, toss a guy high enough for him to catch the plane he had missed, and forget about memorizing combinations for bank vaults – I could rip the huge thing open with a simple tug.  I had adjusted to my new strength pretty quickly when I had been younger, but now it was getting so difficult to keep up.  I was terrified I’d hurt people by accident.  At the same time, however, my body’s strength turned me on so much that I could probably take out a row of tanks if I allowed my ejaculations to explode normally.  I had to curtail them by tightening my cock or even holding it with a firm grip when I came.  I still took out chunks of my dorm room walls and ceiling, but, at least, I didn’t bust out a gaping hole three-stories up, since I lived on the bottom floor.  So, here I was - a childlike guy with the strength of superman.  It just wasn’t fair, was it?  I didn’t really mind about my size when I was using my strength – it just didn’t seem to matter I was small when I was lifting the back of a bus or ripping massive trees from the ground.  It would have been cool, though, to have a body that made people anticipate my power.  Although, I might not have gotten the chance to show off as much – people would be freaked out before I even did anything.  This way, the surprise was half the fun. 


The big glass windows of the gym enabled me to see our three bully-stooges before I even entered.  I recognized them immediately – mainly because they were presently picking on the sole other patron in the facility.  They had obviously put the smaller guy on the floor and placed an unmovable weight-loaded bar on his stomach so he couldn’t move.  It probably had taken two of the big dudes to lift the bar.  They were all standing there looking at the little guy struggling with the bar and laughing.  This only made me want to teach them a bigger lesson than before.  The first thing I needed to do was get the little guy out of there, so he wouldn’t be a witness to the damage I was going to do.  I didn’t need him to be accused of being an accomplice or even knowing about my abilities.  When I got to the door and found it locked, I instantly turned super excited because I was going to be able to make a stupendous entrance, which was always a plus.  My fist plowing through the metal door must have been as loud as a shotgun blast in the big room.  I’m sure it scared the hell out of everyone.  It felt like I was poking through tissue and I left a hole the size of a microwave.  I’m sure it took the guys a while to figure out what happened, since it was probably hard to make out my skinny arm from across the gym.  I pulled my hand out of the hole and admired how I had made all the metal look like jagged cardboard.  I then took the butt of my palm and slammed it against the door – lower than the hole.  The entire thing, frame and all, went shooting into the gym and banged against the wall on the other side.  I think that got everyone’s attention.  I couldn’t imagine what it must look like to see a little guy in a white short-sleeved shirt, glasses, pocket protector with two pens inside, and loafers walk in after that. 


“Well look, there’s a party and I wasn’t invited.  I guess my invitation got lost in the campus mail.  Sorry to bust in like that fellas, but for some reason the door was locked and I don’t really like locked doors.  Haven’t met a lock, yet, that can keep me out, though.  Care if I join in the fun?  It looks like someone doesn’t actually want to be here.”


I had continued to walk through the gym as I blabbered on.  There was a definite tightening of my balls when I saw that the three bullies were all huge – members of the school wrestling team, I was sure.  Showing off my strength to them was going to be fun.  I just needed to help their victim head home, first.  No one moved because they were still trying to figure out what was going on.  One guy still stared at the destroyed door – imbedded in the wall. 


“Oh look, someone dropped some weights.  That could be dangerous.  I think I’m going to have to do some tidying up in here.”


I reached down and grabbed the bar that stretched across the smaller guy’s body, pinning him to the floor.  I did not, however, take hold of it in the middle.  I grabbed it more at one end.  When I lifted, though, the bar stayed perfectly straight, my strength easily capable of handling what must have been really hard for two of the big guys to even carry.  I smiled at the freed captive and motioned to the destroyed doorway in the corner.  The dude was on his feet and out of the gym by the time I tilted the weight bar up in the air as easily as I would a pencil and turned toward the baffled threesome. They were desperately trying to figure out how I was managing such an amazing trick with the weights.  Clearly, I wasn’t strong enough to lift the things on my own – not to mention burst through a metal door so easily.  As I talked, I waved the loaded bar around like I was some kind of peppy blonde drum major with a baton.  I contemplated tossing it spinning in the air, but decided that was too much showing off – even for me.  The three bullies watched me, dumbfounded, and ducked whenever I swung the bar near them. 


“So, fellas, it’s time you picked on someone with equal strength . . . well, not equal exactly.  I think you’ll come to realize that even multiplying the three of you each by one hundred men wouldn’t come near to being the same as my power.  Gosh, the looks on your faces makes it clear you think this bar is pretty heavy.  Did you guys have trouble lifting this, because I find it as light as a toothpick.  Seriously.  Here, catch.”


The three men dropped to the floor immediately – scared to death that I was going to toss the heavily weighted bar in their direction.  They also screamed like terrified preschoolers.  I smiled and held the bar so it stuck straight up.  To freak these guys out like I was doing was the best feeling in the world.  They were musclebound behemoths frightened of little ol’ me.  I wasn’t done playing with them, though.  Not by a longshot.  It was time to up the ante some and make them even more nervous.  I balanced the end of the bar on my forefinger – holding it aloft by moving my hand around.


“Look at that, fellas.  I’m holding all this weight with just one finger.  Pretty awesome, huh?  I’m also thinking this gym could do with some new artwork. It’s a little drab, don’t you think?”


As I spoke I grabbed the end of the bar closest to me and swung the thing with a fraction of my full strength.  The weights on the other end ripped the security bracket in two and went flying across the gym at a speed so fast it was hard to follow them.  When they hit the wall, however, the sound of the impact was deafening.  Six metal plates slammed into the concrete so hard they just sank into it – instantly fused together by the impact.  It did, indeed, look like someone had put a painting of a weight on the wall.  I was impressed with my work.  The three bullies, however, were terrified by what I had done. 


“I think we need a matching piece on the other wall,” I said smiling.


This time, I let the bar slide down until my hand met with the first plate secured at the end.  I then turned it sideways and put my other hand on the outside plate.  Then, I squeezed.  I looked like some bizarre accordion player – but when I pressed in with both hands metal had no option but to submit to my power.  I compressed the weights until they were one big unit – like pressing hamburger meat together to make bigger patties.  The sound it created equaled two bulldozers slamming against each other to win some mechanical battle.  To say I was now erect would have been an understatement.  I was so hard off of my own strength I could have punctured the compressed pates with one poke of my super strong rod.  I was pretty sure the fellas didn’t notice my hard-on because they were too amazed by what my wimpy-looking arms had done to the weights.  I pushed the deformed mass off of the pole – demolishing the safety bracket the same way someone rips a bow off of a present.  I then held the big blob of smashed plates like a discus and flung it in the opposite direction as last time.  The thing looked like a flying saucer zooming through the air.  It hit the other wall with the same amount of force as my first throw and the plates sliced into the concrete like a ninja’s shuriken piercing wood.  Half of the manmade contraption stuck out into the room – again, looking like some wild muscleman’s artwork.  When the sound of the wall being plowed by something stronger died down, I turned to my three new friends.  As I spoke I slowly took the bar, which once held the weight, and started rolling it up like it was just a towel. 


“Man, I love the creative process, don’t you, guys?  So, let’s get some things straight.  I’m super strong and you’re not.  I could toss all three of you through that concrete wall with no problem, at all.  But, you see, I’m not like you three.  I’m not a bully.  I’m simply a guy that wants to make sure everyone’s being nice – everyone’s treating each other with respect.  When I got to this little party, earlier, it looked like the three of you were treating a fellow student unkindly.  Part of me thinks I should squeeze a few of these machines together with my powerful arms and then rest the thing on top of you three just to show you how our little friend felt earlier, but I think I’ve already ruined enough school property – the door, the plates, and this bar that is now rolled up like a garden hose.  Watch as I flatten it into something resembling a pizza.”


I noticed the biggest guy of the three slowly moving his hand toward a 15 kilograms dumbbell on a rack beside him. I did not let on that I saw what he was doing.  Having thirty-three pounds of iron coming at me was going to be too much fun to not let it happen.  As soon as he swung the grabbed piece of iron towards my head, I turned so it would hit me square in the face.  Luckily, I had taken off my glasses when I had been swinging around the barbell earlier.  My nose stopped the flight of the dumbbell with an abruptness that matched a flyswatter stopping a fly with a direct hit.  Iron met something stronger – my face – and the reverberations of the halted mass sent pain through the guy’s hand and arm, causing him to drop the dumbbell on the ground and scream loudly.  My neck was so anchored to my powerful body that I hadn’t budged at all – the big weight just kind of bounced off my tough-as-hell nose.  I reached down and grabbed the dumbbell.


“What did you think you were going to accomplish with that move, dude?  You knew this thing wasn’t going to hurt me at all.  Did you just want to see my face easily deflect it?  Look how my nose made a big dent in the iron, fellas.  Kind of hot, isn’t it.  God, I love how even something this thick and sturdy gets abused by my body.  Now, let’s imagine this was your head, man.”


I put my small hands on either ends of the big weight, not being able to wrap my little fingers around the thicker part.  I then started pushing in with my palms.  The handle in the middle buckled immediately and the two ends banged into each other.  I kept pushing.  Iron compressed together – something much stronger than it was making it yield, easily.  Soon, I had the dumbbell pressed into something as thin as a small paperback book.  The iron had spread out more to accommodate what my power was doing.  I could have probably molded it into a plate for a bar, but folding it up like a piece of paper seemed like more fun and watching the trio of shaking wrestlers get freaked out more was worth it. 


“So, if I can squeeze the hell out of this iron dumbbell with the use of very little of my strength, just imagine what I could do to that head of yours.  Now, I’m sure you’ve figured out I wouldn’t do that to you, but I wanted you to know I could.  Like I said earlier, I’m just here to put you three on a straight and narrow path.  Clearly, you three weren’t disciplined enough as children and you think your size and strength give you the right to pick on others.  Now, as fun as it would be to turn each of you over my knee one at a time and give you a spanking you’d never forget – and would feel for weeks to come – I just think I can convince you to be nicer by shocking the hell out of you with my strength.  I’d hate to have to meet up with you at a later date because you didn’t get my message the first time, but know that I’d do it.  I’d bring a few of these bars with me and make sure I twisted them so tight around your body that’d you’d be wearing them until I thought you’d learned your lesson.  So, you see my over-muscled friends, it’s the little geek that’s putting you in your proper place tonight.  Now, I think there needs to be a little pain – to help you remember our little chat – so I’m thinking the four of us need to wrestle.  Oh no, don’t argue about it, fellas.  I’m sure you know it’s not an even match, but I promise to go light on you.”


I had already noticed mats on the floor in a corner of the room nearby.  With speed that surprised each guy before he could do anything, I grabbed them one by one at the front of their sweatshirt and sweatpants, powered them over my head, and then launched them into the air over a couple of machines so they all landed with a loud thud in the center of the mats.  I walked slowly and with as much cockiness a little guy can muster toward them as they laid there, still wondering what had happened.  I removed my shirt, shoes, and pants, carefully laying them across a bench.  I then stood there in all of my short, waif-like glory – making sure they fully grasped that this little guy, this mighty mouse, was the one about to whoop their asses. 


“I’ll try not to forget how strong I am, gentlemen, and do any permanent damage.  I can get carried away, sometimes, and forget normal guys can’t tie a crowbar into a knot, shove a cement truck a half of block down the street, or rip apart cinder blocks for fun.  I can’t help myself a lot of times because I just get so turned on by what this scrawny body can do – like tossing each of you through the air as if you were just a pair of balled-up socks.  You fellas look scared.  That’s a good thing.  It means you’re learning the lesson I’m trying to share with you.  We could probably stop right now, but where would be the fun in that.  I need to show off more.  Here, look at my flexed twig of an arm and remember it’s what caused you pain.”


I flexed my little arm and all three guys stared at it.  By the look on their faces you would have thought I was a seven-foot muscled monster, which I wasn’t.  It was just that they fully knew what my arms were capable of.  This was going to be fun. 


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