Search Results for "weights"

The tosser
(Undisclosed)

I'm a tosser. It's a fairly new sport, derived from the older game of dwarf tossing, but this is the grown-up version. Man tossing. The man is 150 pounds, that's a standard. But it turns out that quite a few men are 150 or less (if they're less, then they can be made up with some weights) and it doesn't matter how tall they are. And it turns out that quite a few men volunteer to be tossed by a big strong amazon giantess. Like me. I'm six foot nine, 290 pounds, and most of those pounds are muscle. I love man tossing, it's a great sport. Picking up a man with his crash helmet on, and launching him over the sand pit to get a longer toss than my fellow athletes - there's nothing better. I hear that next year it's going to be an Olympic sport. We all have our preferred toss-pot. Mine is little Cecil. He's quite short, and struggles to make 150, so we often have to strap a few iron disks onto him to make up the weight. We practice regularly. I also practice with a dummy weighing a fair bit more, but that's not as satisfying as flinging a live man across the sand, so whenever I can get a volunteer, I'll practice with him instead. Cecil doesn't like that, but he doesn't get to say who I toss.

Respect all, fear nun - part six
(Undisclosed)

Respect all, fear nun - part six We use 100 pound weights, because if you only use 50s, you get a very crowded bar. Hilde had four on each side, so she was pushing 800 pounds steadily up and down. And then I realised. She had meant kilograms, I did a quick calculation in my head - double it and add ten per cent, and the 450 came to - oh my giddy aunt! "Nine ninety," I told Nora, "she's topping out at 990 pounds. Not even you can do that." "Eight twenty is my current best clean and jerk," she said, "she's pushing a thousand." A thousand pounds, of course, is the hope and prayer of every St Hilda's nun. It's a nice round number - five disks on each side of the bar. Nora eyed her enviously. "I wonder what they use instead of Septadecaherbis", she mused, "and whether I can try it?" "Ask her," I grumped. Nora grabbed my rosary after compline. "We need to talk," she said, and showed me a small bottle. "What is it?" I asked, curiously. "She calls it Siebzehnkraut," Nora said. I sniffed it cautiously, it didn't smell like Septadecaherbis. "I'm going to try it," Nora announced. "Nora! You shouldn't! You don't know how it will react with you." Nora shook her head, and said "990 pounds. I'm so there." A week went by. Pray and lift, pray and lift. We were happy, the offsprings were happy and the dogs were ecstatic - it doesn't take much to make a dog happy. Nora was dosing on Siebzehnkraut, and I was measuring her biceps every day. By the end of the week, she'd put on half an inch to 26 1/2, and her bench press had gone from 670 to 710. It looked like Siebzehnkraut was the real McCoy. I talked to Hilde. "Can we get more of your Siebzehnkraut?" I asked bluntly. "Ab naturlich," she smiled. "I will der mutterhaus schreiben." Well, that was easy. I thought I'd have to twist her arm a bit to get her agreement, and I was pretty sure that her arm was much too big for me to twist. And while we were waiting for the package from Germany to arrive, Hilde shared her own supplies with it.

Respect all, fear nun - part five
(Undisclosed)

Respect all, fear nun - part five It was the terce prayer hour. We were all three of us in the gym; the off springs were outside playing with their dogs. I was lying on my back, doing reps with 500, when I noticed a crack in the ceiling that looked like a jagged bolt of stylized lightning. When I finished my set, I showed it to Nora and Mandy. My eyes followed the crack, and the wall was also cracked. "That looks bad," said Mandy. "Is the building falling down?" asked Nora. "I think we should treat the building a lot more gently until further notice," I suggested. "So no more dropping the weights to the floor; lower them gently." "And we should pray," said Nora. "Of course," I said, "but we should also get a good surveyor, to tell us whether this is nothing, or very bad. Roger stood, transfixed. He'd never seen a nun doing bench presses before, he's never seen a woman with 26 inch biceps before and he'd never seen a St Hilda's nun except me, and I was covered head to toe in my habit. He just stood there, paralysed with a mixture of respect and fear. He was imagining what Nora could do to a man once he was helpless in those huge arms. And I thought, Gotcha! I prophesy a discount.

Angel Of Salvation
(Story: Spoonmaster)

When a young man, fresh from graduating college, returns home to start a new life, he meets up with an old flame (one whose older brother beat him mercilessly years ago, as he defended her honor), who has now transformed herself into a true picture of Amazonian Perfection! Shocked by this discovery, the young supergirl shows off the unreal power of her muscle-packed physique (on some Heavy weights and on him sexually), before swearing her love for him, promising that she would Never let anyone hurt him again - especially her massively muscled older brother!

Respect all, fear nun - part four
(Undisclosed)

We learn about nuns and candles, and the part they play in the life of a nun. Fiona dreams about Satan, and does a deal with the devil; the off spring of the orphanage will all get Xboxes in return for Fiona's soul. Fiona now thinks she's infested by Satan, so Sam does an exorcism for her, which involves some very heavy sex. But the Xboxes have already started to appear in the hands of the off springs. Where could they have come from? Then Fiona realizes. If it was all just a dream, then it didn't matter. And if it wasn't a dream, Satan was lying to her; it's what he does.

The tosser
(Undisclosed)

I'm a tosser. It's a fairly new sport, derived from the older game of dwarf tossing, but this is the grown-up version. Man tossing. The man is 150 pounds, that's a standard. But it turns out that quite a few men are 150 or less (if they're less, then they can be made up with some weights) and it doesn't matter how tall they are. And it turns out that quite a few men volunteer to be tossed by a big strong amazon giantess. Like me. I'm six foot nine, 290 pounds, and most of those pounds are muscle. I love man tossing, it's a great sport. Picking up a man with his crash helmet on, and launching him over the sand pit to get a longer toss than my fellow athletes - there's nothing better. I hear that next year it's going to be an Olympic sport. We all have our preferred toss-pot. Mine is little Cecil. He's quite short, and struggles to make 150, so we often have to strap a few iron disks onto him to make up the weight. We practice regularly. I also practice with a dummy weighing a fair bit more, but that's not as satisfying as flinging a live man across the sand, so whenever I can get a volunteer, I'll practice with him instead. Cecil doesn't like that, but he doesn't get to say who I toss.

Respect all, fear nun - part five
(Undisclosed)

It was the terce prayer hour. We were all three of us in the gym; the off springs were outside playing with their dogs. I was lying on my back, doing reps with 500, when I noticed a crack in the ceiling that looked like a jagged bolt of stylized lightning. When I finished my set, I showed it to Nora and Mandy. My eyes followed the crack, and the wall was also cracked. "That looks bad," said Mandy. "Is the building falling down?" asked Nora. "I think we should treat the building a lot more gently until further notice," I suggested. "So no more dropping the weights to the floor; lower them gently." "And we should pray," said Nora. "Of course," I said, "but we should also get a good surveyor, to tell us whether this is nothing, or very bad. Roger stood, transfixed. He'd never seen a nun doing bench presses before, he's never seen a woman with 26 inch biceps before and he'd never seen a St Hilda's nun except me, and I was covered head to toe in my habit. He just stood there, paralyzed with a mixture of respect and fear. He was imagining what Nora could do to a man once he was helpless in those huge arms. And I thought, Gotcha! I prophesy a discount.