A NIGHT OUT WITH THE BOYS
Teenage Destroyers-Part 4
by Pgrazy
Mr. Porter sat in the backseat of the Camaro with his head leaning and bobbing against the window. The teacher felt
exhausted, having spent two hours burying the corpse of one of his students deep in the woods. Despite his exhaustion though, every
time he looked ahead and saw Nick's wide shoulders, every time he studied the thickly muscled arms that gripped the steering wheel
and recalled how those huge hands had so effortlessly broken bones and extinguished a human life, he felt his cock stiffen a little
more. He was too tired to return to the school and retrieve his own car, so he asked Nick to drop him home, planning to take a taxi
into work in the morning. Mr. Porter couldn't wait to get home and commence an hours-long masturbation marathon, thinking of nothing
but Nick’s powerful ,17 year-old body in action.
Mr. Porter suddenly sat up in his seat, a worried look on his face. "Um, Nick, do you actually know where I Iive?"
The teacher looked in the rear view mirror and saw Nick grin. "Just sit back and relax, Mr. Porter. Everything's under control."
The car came to an abrupt halt and Nick honked twice.
"What's this? Where are we?" Mr. Porter looked out the window at the house they had pulled in front of.
Suddenly the front door opened and, by the glow of the porch light, Tony emerged from inside. The boy's muscular
frame was so wide that he had to step sideways through the door, and when he did, Mr. Porter caught the profile of his wide, sculptured
chest . He watched Tony's bicep ball up like a hard melon as the muscle-stud gripped the doorknob and shut it after him. Tony bounded
down the lawn, his pecs bouncing against his tight white T-shirt. The stud stopped, examined his body for a moment and began to
methodically adjust the sleeves on his shirt, ensuring the glory that was his arms was in no way concealed. Although that was not
possible, considering how even Tony's deltoids were clearly defined and rounded against the shirt.
Tony opened the door and hopped in, the car bouncing as he did so. Mr. Porter was overwhelmed. The interior of the
Camaro was now claustrophobic, the poor man hemmed in the backseat by an impenetrable barricade of muscle. Instinctively, he felt
fear. He had already learned what one these "boys" could do. But Mr. Porter also felt a crazed and eager excitement. He wanted
desperately to watch these two in action.
"Yo Nick! What's Up!" Tony high-fived Nick, the loud slap.
"Are ready to fuckin' party?" Nick laughed and slammed his foot on the accelerator.
"What? You got a game-plan?" Tony asked, still checking out his arms.
"You bet I do. And I even brought you a little present." Nick nodded his head towards the backseat. "Take a look."
Tony looked behind him, his muscular bulk making it difficult at first. His eyes went wide for a moment when he
saw Mr. Porter, then narrowed. His face, boyishly handsome a moment ago, slowly contorted into the evilest of grins, his eyes
alive with glee and malice.
"HOOOOOLY Shit!" Tony burst out laughing, and slapped his palms on his massive quads, "You snagged a goddamn teacher!?"
Nick smiled and nodded his head.
"Nick! You're the fucking man! You gotta tell me what happened!"
As Nick drove the car into the darkened night and onto the Interstate, he explained how he had slaughtered
Chris. Nick omitted no detail, no broken bone, no cry or spasm of pain he had inflicted upon the punk's body. Tony thought
the bit about the punk trying to karate kick him, and Nick simply grabbing his foot and snapping his ankle, was funny as all
hell. Tony keep looking back at Mr. Porter, the evil grin always on his face, and he would always burst out laughing, as if
the sight of a doomed man was the funniest thing ever.
Tony wiped his eyes. "Ah, man. You snuffed him right in the fucking school! That’s balls! Damn! You got
fucking balls of steel!"
Mr. Porter finally worked up the courage to speak. "Excuse, please, boys. Can you tell me where were going?"
"I've got an encore in store for you." Nick said, "See, that little bitch Chris was kinda, like, just a snack,
and I got a really big fucking appetite. Chris was just a cream puff and now it's time for steak. So you just sit back, relax
and be quiet. Hey," Nick could barely contain his laughter, "If your good I'll let you lick my balls before I pound yer goddamn
head in!!" Both he and Tony lost control and erupted into laughter.
The Camaro suddenly careened, making a sharp left turn and swerving to a stop on what sounded like gravel.
"Alright, where here." Nick pulled the keys out of the ignition, sat there a moment. He looked at Tony, his eyes
wild with excitement, his teeth gritted like an animal and white in the darkness. "It's showtime!"
The big guys got out first. Mr. Porter felt Tony's palm slap around his arm and yank him out of the backseat so
brutally the teacher's head thudded against the doorframe. The man nearly stumbled, holding his head where it ached.
"Awwww" Tony said with a puppy dog expression, "Are you OK Mr. Porter? Would you like a little band-aid for you
little head?"
Mr. Porter smiled gratefully, "Oh. If you have one I-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!" Tony roared in the man's face, gripped the teacher and pushed him violently forward.
Mr. Porter looked around and realized he was standing in the parking lot of a bar. It was a small little dive
with neon Budweiser signs in the windows, a place Mr. Porter had driven past everyday on the way to work. There only three other
cars in the lot, with it being almost closing time.
When the people inside the bar heard the front door open they all looked up, and for a moment they lost their
collective breath and stood in shock. In swaggered two, nearly 300 lb muscle-beasts. Nick got off on this shit, got off on the
sudden silence, the stunned looks. He knew he was a fucking god, knew his own power and couldn't help but smile to himself.
Nick looked around. He immediatedly spotted four “easy-kills”. There were two hippy-ish looking dudes playing
pool. The bartender had been leaning against the counter and looking up at a ceiling mounted TV until the boys walked in. Seated
at the bar, nursing a beer was a girl. Her eyes were dead set on Nick's physique, her mouth slightly parted as if her tongue was
ready to lick every ounce of muscle.
Nick looked to his left. Leaning up against the wall was the bouncer, a guy named Steve O‘Sullivan. A 6'11,
250 lb linebacker for the University, Steve was impressively built although his muscles were somewhat obscured by what people
call "football fat". But Nick had seen him at Gold's, had seen what kind of weight this brute could handle, had seen him demolish
bigger men on the football field , and Nick was aware of the fighting power Steve's body possessed. Nick could hear the bouncer's
breathing, could hear the contempt in it. The bouncer was filled with simmering rage upon seeing two muscle-gods, both younger
than him, swagger into his territory and cast his authority into doubt. Nick grinned cockily and walked by slowly, just to let Steve
get a good look at his sculptured guns, his mountainous chest, the thick sheets of muscle that covered his backside and made his legs
thick as tree trunks, walked slowly just to let Steve know where he ranked.
Tony strode over to Mr. Porter, his broad backside stretching out his white t-shirt, the hard curves of his triceps
clearly visible as was the solid perfection of his ass, undeniable even in jeans. Tony tapped the teacher on the shoulder. "You got
money? Buy us some beers." Tony took a seat at the bar and began to observe the interior of the bar, mentally gauging the two
pool-playing punk's proximity to escape routes and the like.
Nick made his way over the girl and sat next to her.
"Hi!" the girl said giddily.
"What's up?" Nick smiled.
"Oh my God!" the girl squealed. She looked around nervously, then leaned forward and whispered "You are so fucking
hot! Your arms, my God, they're beautiful! I've seen you at the gym. How old are you? You still in high school right?!"
Mr. Porter handed Nick a beer, who took a sip. The teacher just stood there like an idiot. Nick narrowed his eyes
at the man, and growled "Go away and sit...the...fuck....down."
When Nick turned back the girl's eyes were greedily surveying his body, her eyes following the deep groove between
his smooth pecs and traveling further down to where the skin flowed beneath the rim of the tank-top. She had to fight the impulse
to run her hands down his chest, to let her fingers rummage beneath his sweatpants, to grope at his thighs and dick, and press her
face deep into his crotch and be overwhelmed by the raw smell and power of this young muscle-stud's masculinity.
Nick smiled cockily, "So what are you doing tonight?"
The girl suddenly huffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm waiting for my boyfriend." She nodded over to the bouncer.
Nick turned his head and smiled at Steve. The bouncer's face was flushed with anger and frustration. But Steve
held back, because he knew, in the end, the younger man could break him in two...and Nick just kept on smiling because he knew
it too.
Nick turned back to the girl. "What? You're picking him up? He don't have a car?"
She rolled her eyes again, "No...he's such a loser. He's acts tough but I swear to God he's got more pussy
than me." She took another sip of her beer, "I thought he was hot at first because he was big, but..." she giggled and
blushed "...he ain't got muscles like you, I can tell ya that!"
Nick looked down as his arm, his elbows on the bar, his relaxed biceps bulging forward.
"You wanna touch it?." Nick smiled slyly, "Go ahead. Touch it. There's a lotta power in these arms but I won't
let them hurt ya." The girl gingerly brought a finger forward and pressed it against the bicep. She let it slide down the hard
muscle to his elbow. Nick heard an impressed moan escape her mouth. He leaned forward. "You ever touch muscle like this before?
Felt a body this hard? You've seen me at the gym. Then you've seen my body in action, seen me sweat, watched my muscles grow
and get bigger. You couldn't keep you eyes off me. You've always wanted to touch it..." Nick curled his arm up nice and tight,
his bicep huge in her small hands, which caressed the solid steel muscle. Her hand dropped to Nick's thigh and she felt the
thick muscle of his quadriceps, felt his enormous hard cock under the sweatpants, and she began to rub her thumb along his dick.
Nick smirked, "What about your boyfriend?"
The girl kept caressing his dick. "I don't care. Fuck him."
Nick pressed his thighs together and squeezed her hand, just to give her a playful taste of their power.
"That sounds like a good idea. Do you want to see me fuck him? Do you want to see him mounted and pounded by a real fucking
muscle-stud? I can make him cry like a baby, make him suck if it want him to. If you want I can snap every bone in his body....“
Nick squeezed his bicep hard, "with these guns, with that dick you got in your hand, I can fuck him up good."
"Can...can you do that? " the girl whispered.
Nick smiled and looked up. Tony had positioned himself real close to the bartender, ready to leap over the
counter and pounce...just in case the man had a gun or tried calling the police. He was also near the front door, ready to tackle
the two pool-playing punks if they made a break for it.
Nick felt Steve's presence behind his back, and he just chuckled and cracked his knuckles.
"Cindy..." Steve hissed, "Get your fucking hands off him."
"Oh, fuck off Steve!" Cindy said.
Steve's face went bright red, "Cindy, I'm telling you right now-"
Nick swiveled around in his seat, "Why don't you take her hands off me, pussyboy."
Steve's eye went wide. Without warning and with lightning quickness Steve swung a punch, but Nick swiftly caught
the oncoming fist in his palm with a loud *slap!*. The punk felt Nick's fingers enclose over his smaller hand. The muscle-stud
smiled and squeezed hard. The bouncer felt a sharp pain as his knuckles began to buckle, the finger bones bending and sagging under
the enormous, crushing force.
"Awww!!!! Let GO!! GET OFF!!! GET OFF!!!!" Steve screamed, tears welling in his eyes, as he tried to pry the
iron-grip away. Steve swung with his other arm, but the Nick knocked it away with his forearm and gave the bouncer a powerful jab
to the nose, breaking the cartilage and making blood squirt and bubble from the nostrils. Steve collapsed to the floor and Nick
leaned in real close and grinned, exhaling hot breath into his opponent's face.
Nick heard the splintering sound of finger-bones and felt the joints weaken at the knuckles. Nick's face was win
ced intro a look of pure savagery, his teeth bared, his eyes alive with malice, his hardon raging as he felt delicate bones
desperately trying to resist the destructive pressure he was applying. Nick squeezed and squeezed, his bicep and forearms muscles
swollen to enormous proportions and writhing with veins, each of Steve's cries a cue to squeeze a little harder into the squishy ball
of misshapen flesh. With a sudden burst of power he squeezed with everything he had and four fingers snapped in quick succession.
Nick twisted the hand and heard the wrist go SNAP! The bouncer howled and stamped his foot.
The bartender had seen enough. He'd hired Steve because of his stature and strength, and he'd done well enough as a
bouncer, but this high school kid had already broken his nose was crushing his hand to a pulp! The bartender reached under the
counter and whipped out a baseball bat. Tony sprung into action, all 270 pounds of muscle leaping over the counter. The baseball
bat met his palm with a SLAP! and he yanked it away from the stunned bartender. Tony wrapped his palms in a close grip fashion around
the bat, grunted and snapped it in two, letting the two pieces go clunk! clunk! on the floor. Tony brushed his hands together, shook
his head disapprovingly at the bartender and slowly walked up to the poor man.
The bartender was shaking, tears welling in his eyes.
"Please...I...I...I" he whimpered.
Tony grabbed the back of the petrified man's skull and swung the head downwards with such explosive force that
it broke through the bar's counter-top. Wood fragments flew up in the air, the bartender's broken head disappeared into the
chasm and came crashing down on a store of liquor bottles below.
Nick, still crushing the punk's fist, burst out laughing. "Nice one, Tony! Just give his head a lil' twist
and make sure he's dead."
Nick turned his face back to Steve's, who suddenly threw his forehead forward and viciously head-butted Nick
twice in quick succession. THUMP! THUMP! Nick winced, a sharp sting radiating throughout his brain, and he shook his head
to cast off the pain. Now he was fucking mad!!! Still gripping the broken hand, with lightening speed and like a piston, Nick's
fired his fist into Steve's skull, again and again and again, battering the punk's head with 12 blows in 8 seconds. His fist
shattered a cheekbone, tore out several front teeth, and cracked the jawbone in two places, which caused the bouncer to howl
like nothing else had done. Nick kicked his stool away and was now leaning over his prey, his body pumped, his thick lats flaring
out, slamming each devastating blow down with unstoppable fury, bashing the sack of broken bones that was once a human head with
such viciousness that Steve's face began to squish up and loose shape. Finally, Nick swung down so hard into the buckling skull
that Steve suddenly lost hearing in his left ear. Steve's good arm shot out, grasped Nick's throat and began to dig his fingers
in and squeeze. The bouncer, his face swollen beyond recognition and awash with blood, began to cry out toothlessly, spitting blood
and saliva "You Mother-fucker, mother-fu-motherfucker, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!! I'LL KILL YOU!!". Nick became enraged. He grunted,
hoisted himself up, gripped Steve's arm firmly and twisted downward. Nick raised his right arm up over his prey, his beautiful bicep
pressing against the thick forearms. Steve's eyes went wide and he groaned pitifully "Noooooo....". Nick swung his elbow down onto
Steve's trembling, extended arm, snapping it with a crisp "CRACK!". Steve convulsed in agony, as Nick grabbed his head and thrust
him backwards to the floor with such violent force liquor bottles jumped and rattled. Nick leaned down, grasped the football-player’s
heavy leg and lifted it. The muscle-stud secured a nice, tight grip on the ankle, got his footing, then suddenly yanked and twisted
with all his might. Steve opened his eyes and squealed as an explosive pain seized his kneecap, as the components that comprised the
structure began to shake, pull apart and grind against nerves. Nick wrenched the leg down and heard the wet CRUNCH! of cartilage and
bone busting apart beneath the flesh. The punk screamed, then his eyes rolled up in his head as his brain sought escape in unconciousness.
Nick gave the leg a brutal tug, pulling at the deformed limb, stretching it out nearly 5 inches longer than the other leg and ripping
tendons and ligaments from their moorings as he did so. Nick let the twisted limb thud to the ground and realizing the punk had wimped
out and fallen unconcious, Nick stomped his foot down on the squishy, busted knee, pulverizing whatever bone remained. The bouncer
yelped and spasmed back to agonized wakefulness.
Nick suddenly felt Cindy's hands, wrap around his chest and began to fondle and squeeze his pecs, her tongue
licking his traps and thick bull neck. She was like a mindless junkie addicted to muscle, her hands groping deep into his
sweatpants and seizing the hard meat inside. Nick whipped around, lifted her off the ground, grasped her small head and rammed
his tongue into her mouth, kissing her so forcefully she nearly suffocated, as she felt his hardened dick pressing hot against
her belly. She barely managed to squeak out the words, "Not yet! You have to kill him! Pleeeaassse!! Kill him!" Nick grinned,
let her back down and turned back to his fallen opponent.
At this point the two-pool playing shitheads made a mad dash for the front door. Tony bounded across the gap,
his immense shoulders gunned for the two punks and slammed them against the wall so hard that a neon "Molson Ice" sign flew off
its hanging, smashed apart on the floor and fizzled. The punks were knocked to the ground, one of them dead stiff with pain and
screaming, the mere force of Tony's body having dislocated his shoulder.
Nick's eyes were wild, Steve’s blood dripping from his huge fists, his dick throbbing. Watching Tony tackle those
punks, hearing the delicious cracking of Steve's bones made him so pumped, so out of his mind with kill-lust, he suddenly roared
"YEEEAAAHHH!!!"
He swung wildly around, reached down and yanked Steve up. He turned the punk on his side and lifted him up off the
ground, thick veins writhing in his swollen arms, his face contorted with intensity, as he and hoisted the limp bouncer over his
head. He began to do military presses. His deltoids freaked-out, doubled in size and became engorged with blood, the serrated
muscle pressing against the skin. Nick let loose a blood-curdling roar. Nick adjusted his grip on the bouncer, dropped to one
knee, held the punk helplessly over his massive quads a moment while he summoned all his strength into his arms,and then swung
the bouncer's prostrate body down upon his knee. The spine went *CRACK!* The bouncer's arms flew up in the air and jerked spastically
before his entire body went completely limp and sagged across Nick's quads.
Tony erupted into laughter and began to clap. Cindy let loose a cheer. "Woo-Hoo!" She ran over to Nick but he knocked
her into the bar.
"NOT YET!" he growled.
He stripped off his sweatpants and underwear, gave his awesome quads a shake, and lovingly ran his hands over the
big muscles. "Yeah..." he mumbled to himself "I could leg press a fucking truck with these babies...' He let his hand brush admiringly
against his dick, which was locked, loaded and hungry for a "punk-fuck".
Steve, using his unbroken arm, was dragging himself across the floor towards the front door. With his spine broken
and his head so badly battered that he was barely able to stay conscious, his progress was agonizingly slow, barely moving at a rate
of two feet per minute. Nick let the punk make some progress. The naked muscle-god walked slowly after his crawling prey, as if his
erect dick and swinging balls were guiding him towards his kill. Nick had to hand it to Steve, the boy was strong. This guy was using
one arm to drag 250 pounds of deadweight after his spinal-cord had been severed and his skull bashed repeatedly! Steve made it to the
entrance, his fingers pawing weakly at the door-jab, desperately trying to find the strength to push forward and make his escape.
Nick rolled his head against his meaty traps, cracking his own neck. He then crossed his arms behind his head, stretched out the triceps
and squeezed the biceps, as he muttered "Time to finish this puppy off..." He grasped Steve's ankles and dragged him back across the
room. The bouncer groaned piteously and his good arm flailed. Nick yanked Steve's jeans down his legs, the belt-line catching on the
punk’s hips and the strain elongating his soft, broken back. He caressed his own thighs a moment and looked up at Cindy. "Watch this!"
Nick got down on the floor, turned the punk on his side, slipped his tree-trunk thighs around Steve's ribcage and locked his feet
together, looking like a python wrapped around a baby bird, his hard dick pressing into the broken back. "You ready bitch?" Nick asked,
relishing the feel of delicate ribs pressing gently against the insides of his legs, before he suddenly clenched and began to drive his
thighs together. "UHHH...UHHHH!!!!" Steve groaned. The crushing muscle began to compact the ribcage. "C'mon..." Nick smiled savagely
"Let's hear that snap, crackle and pop!" A rib shuddered under the pressure and surrendered with a snap. Two more followed quickly.
Nick kept adjusting his legs, sliding them roughly up and down the torso, searching greedily for unbroken bones. God, this felt awesome!
Nick could actually feel the bones crackle against his thighs, could feel the entire ribcage bend and weaken structurally. Crack! There
goes another one! CrrrRACK! Jesus, this was so fucking easy! How much could he squat with those legs?! This pussyboy was no problem at
all! Nick heard a dull popping sound as ribs were pulled from the sternum. CccRICK!! Nick felt the last rib give way, felt the bone
fragments jiggle loosely against the internal organs, his thighs bearing unbearably down upon the lungs and heart. A fractured rib
speared a lung and the punk began to convulse, his body shaking wildly as he began to gag and hack up blood. Nick sighed. This punk
wasn't gonna last much longer. Nick whispered devilishly into Steve's ear "Sorry buddy. You ready to die? ....'cause it‘s neck-snappin‘
time!“ Nick shimmied his body down, and entwined his legs around his prey's. He punched his dick into the punk's asshole and wrapped
his arms around the skull, fitting it into a snug, lethal headlock. Nick got to work and his body began pumping, his hips working
with relentless power, thrusting his cock in deep and grinding it against the walls of the tender anus. Steve emitted little squeaks
comprised of panic, pain and humiliated horror. His fingers pawed desperately at the unmovable tricep and forearm, as Nick clenched
his eyes tight and smeared warm sweat across his prey's body. Nick felt his orgasm build, felt mad, trembling pleasure in the
underside of his cock, gaining psychotic energy and mindless momentum and then POW! he blew his load into the punk, flooding him with
a jet stream of thick cum. Nick shuddered in ecstasy and let his cock unload and twitch out of orgasm. The muscle-god held his prey
a moment and panted, his sweaty pecs pressing meatily against the punk's backside. Nick looked down at the head he cradled in his arms.
"Say goodnight, mother-fucker!" He grunted and pushed his palm against the head, forcing it one way, while his arm wrenched the
neck in the opposite direction. Steve squawked in terror as his neck began to stretch and bend, his chin digging into the crook of
the Nick's arm, his fingers pulling frantically at the stud's muscled forearm. Steve's thick neck resisted the strain. Nick growled
and doubled the force, pushing the head with devastating strength, until he heard the slow cracking of vertebrae and then a sudden *POP!*
as the spinal column broke free from the skull. The punk immediately went limp, his squishy neck offering no more resistance and
allowing Nick to force the head completely to the floor. Nick felt Steve shudder, felt his heart stop. The punk's lifeless arms dropped
and his knuckles rapped loudly against the floorboards. Nick kept his arms rapped around the snuffed punk for a moment, looked down
into Steve’s empty eyes and quietly savored the feeling of a body once so committed to a struggle for survival now still and unmoving
in his grasp. After a minute, Nick uncorked his dick and blood dribbled from the punk's asshole. He stood over the fresh kill, his eyes
closed, breathing slowly and deeply, 290 lbs of sweaty muscle pumped and glistening, every deeply-carved striation and vascular web
visible. He opened his eyes and swaggered over to Cindy, his powerful arms swaying by his sides, swollen with killing-power.
"This is what every hour in the gym is all about. Every curl, every press, every squat." He flexed his arm and admired
the beauty of the bicep, raising it to lips and giving it a kiss. "...Pure power, right there." He put his hands on his hips and looked
Cindy over. Her body trembled with awe, her eyes focused on Nick's chest, which was wet with her dead boyfriend's blood. Still, she
looked a little disappointed....
"What's wrong?" Nick furrowed his brow, then smiled, "Ah...You don't think I've got anything left for you! Well..."
and with that Nick lifted her off the ground, and carried her into the stockroom, where he slammed the door and proceeded to give
her the fuck of her life. The door was unable to conceal her purring moans that rose into screams of ecstasy.
The noise didn’t bother Tony at all. He was busy with his own punks. He was sitting on a stool, his t-shirt off and
his body thick with solid muscle. One punk was still standing , but he was bent forward and had Tony's massive left arm locked around
his thin neck. The other punk was on his knees, his face buried in Tony's crotch, sucking hungrily at the meat. The small man gagged
on the huge rod of beef as Tony gripped the punk’s skull and shoved his cock deeper into the warm mouth.
Tony's eyes were closed and he wore the biggest smirk on his face. "That's right! Suck it good or I'll snap your buddy's
neck like a chicken!" Tony gave the punk's neck a tweak of pressure that was effortless for the big guy but terrifying for the little one.
The little man clutched at Tony's crushing neck lock.
"Please, Stewie! Just do what he says! Suck it good Stewie! Please, for the love of God! Suck it good!"
The little man's pleas annoyed Tony, so he squeezed a little, concentrating pressure up on the throat, not down on
the vertebrae. The pitiful choking sounds he heard, the way the punk's puny fingers tried to pry his arm away made Tony sooooo
horny, as his orgasm was about to fire cum down the punk's throat. It's amazing what a good blow job a man can give if his life is
a stake! Tony's eyes suddenly clenched tight, his whole body seized with pleasure as he fired full-blast into the punk's mouth,
gripping the head so he wouldn't squirm away. So intense was his pleasure that every muscle on Tony's body clenched. He jerked the
necklock up and heard the loud popping sound of a neck breaking. The punk squawked, his legs gave away and his knees thudded to the
floor, his arms swaying lifelessly above the ground.
His pleasure subsided and his muscles fully relaxed, Tony looked to his side at the limp punk in his grasp.
"Oh shit. Sorry dude! Guess I don't know my own strength!" Tony said with an evil grin, unwrapping his arm and letting
the corpse thud to the floor.
The second punk, his lips still around Tony's meat and choking down mouthfuls of cum, looked at the slumped body of his
best friend and let out a pitiful moan of sorrow.
"Hey, hey, hey." Tony shook his finger at the punk, pulled his dick out and patted him reassuringly on the head,
"Don't be sad. You did good!"
The punk looked up at Tony with timid eyes. "Re....Really?"
Tony gently patted his head again. "Yeah....but" Tony sighed and looked off to the side a moment. He then
looked his punk straight in the eyes, and still clutching his hair with one fist, placed his fingertips on the punk's chin
"....I've had better too." With a swift, effortless twist, Tony flicked the punk's head to the left and heard the vertebrae
crack apart. *CRIK!* The punk seized in mid-air for a moment, then slumped to the floor, his right foot fluttering a moment
before it stopped moving forever.
Nick opened the door of the stockroom and leaned his arm against the doorframe, his bicep hanging there like a
slab of beef. "Yo! Tony! Come take a look at this!"
Tony pulled his jeans up his meaty thighs and kicked the corpses away. "What's up bro?"
"Check this out." Nick grinned.
On the floor of the stockroom Cindy lay dead, her face locked into a smile of pure pleasure, frozen exactly
at the moment Nick flooded her with orgiastic pleasure. Tony noticed something there something askew with her face. He grabbed
a handful of her long hair, pulled her head up and inspected her face closely.
"Shit bro! You drove her nose into her goddamn brain!" Tony exclaimed, unbelieving.
Nick crossed his arms and smiled, "You don't know how long I've been working on that move. It ain't as easy as
it looks in the movies. The last few times I tried it, I only broke their noses and caused so much fuckin' brain damage they
were useless. I realized it was all about what kind of angle you use when you slam your palm down. If you get it right it's
like hitting a fucking light-switch! One flick and DEAD!"
Tony laughed and slapped his buddy on the shoulder.
"Wait!" Tony looked suddenly worried "Where's that teacher-dude?"
"Fuck!! Mr. Porter!"
Nick and Tony started to look around the bar, beginning to think Mr. Porter had lost his taste for blood
and ran out into the night. But they found him, lying on the floor in a fetal position, his fly open with his dick sagging
out, and his slacks covered in his own sticky cum.
"Aw...now, now Mr. Porter." Nick reached down and lifted the man to his feet. "Did you have a good time? You
don't wanna give yourself a heart attack with all that jerkin' off! After all, we all got school tomorrow!" The two muscle-buddies
cracked up with laughter.
There was no cleaning up this time. Nick kept a jug of gasoline in the trunk of the Camaro and they doused
the walls with it, also spilling as much liquor from the bar as they could, then set the whole place ablaze. The fire was so
intense and the location of the bar so remote that by the time the fire trucks arrived and extinguished the inferno, any human
remains would be useless to the coroner. Plus, Nick grinned as he sped the Camaro away, if by some remote chance the cops ever
suspected them, Mr. Porter would be more than willing to provide an alibi for the boys.
At 4:23 a.m. the car halted in front of Mr. Porter's house.
"Alright...you're home!"
"Wha...Where?"Mr. Porter looked around in a daze.
"It's your house you idiot! YOU LIVE HERE! GET THE FUCK OUT!!" Tony roared.
Mr. Porter stumbled out of the car, Tony giving him a good push.
"Oh! and Mr. Porter!" Nick leaned across the passenger seat, his face frightening in the intensity of its
seriousness. "You know what happens if your a bad boy, right? Huh? What happens to bad boys who can't keep their mouths shut?
And you also know what good things good boys get, right?" Nick smirked, flexed his bicep, and pointed a finger at it. The teacher
put his hand in his pocket and fondled his insatiable hardon. "That's right, Mr. Porter, you got it! Shit man! We got school in 3
hours! Hey, Mr. Porter, is it okay if I don't turn in my homework assignment?" The boys cackled with laughter, Nick slammed his
foot on the accelerator and the Camaro speed away.
.
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