"I'm here to STIM and I'm her to WIN," Buck nearly shouted and Cutler and his friends.

"If you're going to lift in my gym, you better throw on a pair of posers, BEEF BOY" Cutler sneered, knowing he was forcing what had been brewing all summer.

Buck had a cold dead stare in his eyes, "I will not, and you will not make me, it's our gym too."

Cutler, incensed at this disrespect lost what little cool his clothmo mind had left, he was MAD AS FUCK. A sweeping right looked as if it was going to land squarely on Buck's jaw, when it happened.

I had been too busy stroking my newly plumped PISSWYRM to see that Yann had worked himself into a frenzy, he was self stimming and humming, seemingly in his own world. Before that clothmo hand could grace Buck's face, it stopped.

"What the fuck, your friend just came in my eye!!!" Cutler cried, his poser clad friends rushing to his aid, greedily licking at the thicket of ball snot covering his face. "You fucking asshole!" he wailed, writhing around on the ground.

Yann didn't seem phased and Buck never even flinched. Yann stepped over the fallen Cutler and simply stated, "I am all that is man, I have COMMANDED your respect, this is an IFNB gym now" and with that he stroked out one last drop of cum onto Cutler's forehead, he had been marked, he had been PWNED.

"Robert, Diego, get over here and give a brother a STIM!" Buck excitedly COMMANDED. Like that, the tides had changed, no longer were we in the shadows, no longer were we mocked, no longer would we be forced to watch Cutler, Priest and Coleman prance around and engage in faggotry. We were heroes, we were THE BEEFBOYS.

Time passed, we grew older and eventually we went our separate ways. I may forget the months of sweat stoked stimming, load after load be coaxed out of our grand pisswyrms. I may forget the first time I took a full reverse turtleback STIM. But one thing I can't forget, and I never will. That haunting tune Yann was humming as he changed the course of our lives. That tune that would come to be the soundtrack to my life.

"Oh GIMME THE BEEFBOY AND FREE MY SOUL..........."

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2536266&forum_id=2#25340512)

one hundred eighty.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2536266&forum_id=2#25340533)

Before I knew it I was almost late, I zipped up my fanny pack, threw on my favorite pair of Wranglers (clother school, clother rules), shot a quick goodbye load at Mom and jumped on my bike. Dad had helped me rig an anal stim on the seat, and it was a highlight to know I was working out as I rode to school. That usual since of FULFILLMENT wasn't there on this day, and I didn't know why.

I made it on time, unhooked myself from my bike and tried to make my way into class. I had never had a problem getting girls, and as soon as they heard about my IFNB training it was nearly impossible to keep their hands off me. Just walking the halls would mean a hand groping me or a tit flopped out and forced into my mouth. Those poor women never realized that I wouldn't give up my MUSCLESEED to them for a million dollars if it affected my PissWyrm's development. Usually I saw my friends struggling the same way but today it was different. Diego wasn't there. I passed Yann and Buck in the hallway and gave them a look but I didn't get a chance to talk and see if they knew about Diego.

Class was excrucuatingly boring, I misused "zhe" on an essay question and had to recite entire poem "The Evil of White Men" for the class. I couldn't get away fast enough. "I need to go to the bathroom for a STIM" I pleaded, making my case for escape.

"Ask the correct way and you may go." Mrs. Scott said, staring me down through her thick glasses with her beady shrew eyes.

"I need to use the transabled unisex non-urinal waste room to STIM." I spit out as fast as I could, grabbing the hall pass as I walked out.

As soon as I got to the bathroom I immediately recognized the lifting shoes under the stall. "Yann! What are you doing in here?"

"I'm STIMMING and I'm WINNING." He shot back, no change in his voices tone.

"Hey, Yann, was Diego in class today?"

"No, he was absent, the teacher said his parents called, they haven't seen him all night, she asked if we knew where he was," said Yann, as matter of factly as you could imagine.

That's when I got that sinking feeling, I knew something was wrong. Diego was an excellent student and never missed class, or a chance for the BEEFBOYS to get together in the bathroom and throw a few ropes of sweet sticky MUSCLEJIZZ around. Something was definitely wrong. There was only one place he could be.

"Pull up your Zubazz pants Yann, we're out of here." I lisped as I shook the last droplet of semen from my now reddened fuckstick. I knew there would be hell to pay when Mrs. Scott told my parents I left without permission, but I needed to make sure Diego was okay, plus my Dad said my teacher was a "cunthole" all the time, maybe he would go easy on me.

The previous summer we had discovered an abandonded building on the side of town where the blacks lived. What was once a wig factory had become BEEFBOY CENTRAL as we called it. With a little ingenuity and a lot of hard work, we had taken a dusty, condemned house for rats and forlorn wigs and made STIM BENCHES, and STIM MACHINE on a reciprocating saw, a full release room, etc. it was our own private heaven. We didn't want Cutler and the clothers to enter so we made a secret "knock." Next to the front door we cut a hole, when one of us arrrived we were to knock and "announce" by placing out meatsticks through the hole. Whoever was inside could easily tell that our thick, veiny, pulsating members were those of IFNBros and not some clitdick clother. Yann rode on my handlebars as we rushed to BEEFBOY CENTRAL, Diego had to be there, but why? What would make him run away?

As we pulled into the clubhouse I could see Diego's bike, he was here! We quickly rapped on the door, inserted our MONSTROUS PHALLUSES through the hole, but nobody answered. We repeated this two more times, but nobody would unlock the door.

"Diego!" I shouted, "open up!."

"Diego, this is Yann, I COMMAND you open this door!" and with that, we heard the door unlock. When we entered Diego was sitting in the corner, nude of course, but something was wrong. His face was shiny but not with the standard MUSCLELOAD we were so fond of shooting at one another, instead it was tears streaming down his cheeks. Yann and I rushed to him.

"Your tears are weakness, stop the crying, I COMAMND IT, it is not the height of masculinity!" Yann screamed, but it had no effect. I knew something must really be wrong.

"What is it Diego, why did you run away?" I pleaded for an answer.

"He made me, it's his fault!" Diego sobbed.

"Who, what happened?"

Between sobs Deigo managed to speak. "I forgot my fanny pack and came back in the house last night to get it, that's when I saw it," said Diego, nearly vomiting. "He had on one of those porn videos, you know, where the guys make sex with one another, he was watching it and doing squats. That asshole only had 225 lb's on the bar, what a faggot! I can deal with him being a pussy, but that faggot had on COMPRESSION PANTS and a BENCH SHIRT! He's a fucking clother!! My own Dad!" at this point Diego was nearly inconsolable, the main he had looked up to his entire life, was a dirty, rotten, no good clothmo.

"He knew I saw him, and he screamed at me 'You think you are all high and mighty, strutting around with your PISSWYRM out like you own the damn world! You think you are so fucking special don't you Diego!? Well guess what, I was a nude lifter once, but things change! It's in your blood, the Pene men are clothed lifters! You'll be one too damn it!'

" That's when Diego ran, and I couldn't blame him. He had come to the only place a BEEFBOY always felt safe, and we wouldn't let that change. Diego ended up moving in with Buck's family, who were very pro nude lifting and let him work as a Training Twink down at their IFNB studio. Diego's father ended up with GAIDS and butthole cancer from his constant faggotry, the last we saw him he was advertising his ass for sale on craigslist. It all worked out in the end but that night we felt a bond, something beyond mere friendship. We felt a brotherhood. A lifestyle.

As we walked out of the clubhouse that night, arms around Diego's shoulders, he started to sing quietly, knowing all would end well. Before the first verse could escape his lips we had all joined in. In that anthem we found power. "Oh GIMME THE BEEFBOY AND FREE MY SOUL!"

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2536266&forum_id=2#25340975)

180

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2536266&forum_id=2#25341943)

This thread is gay

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=2536266&forum_id=2#34761528)