We were just hanging around in our tighty whities like normal when lil bro decided he wanted to be a little shit. 😡 Grabbed my waistband out of nowhere and just yanked. Hard. The audacity!😈
I live in a small town in Indiana and I go to a small gym. It’s a bigger chain but a smaller location and there aren’t a lot of people there on any given day. There are three guys who I see there a lot who are huge beefy brick shit-houses. Two of them are super tall, 6’2” & 6’4”,
but the other one is maybe 5’9”, closer to my height at 5’8”. The guy who is 6’4” is my favorite. I have a huge crush on him. My partner always asks, “Was the brick shit-house there today?” He is huge! He has nice broad shoulders and beautiful arms. He’s so tall and he has really rugged good looks. He has light brown hair and dark brown eyes, a really square jaw and high cheek bones and always has a little stubble growing. It drives me crazy. I’ve gotten busted checking him out twice. He always smiles back and says “hey.” I occasionally talk to them as it’s a small gym and they call me “little dude”.
So what does this have to do with wedgies? I’ll tell you. The two bigger guys are always given the littlest guy wedgies. They’re just one or two tuggers, but when it comes to the arms on these guys, one or two tugs go a long way. The smallest one seems to have a napoleon complex, actually he does have one, I just didn’t know until after this particular story. But, they always get a rise out of him and he tries to get them back and they laugh at him and he usually gets pretty pissed. He’s also pretty stocky with a massive chest and very well defined arms. I think he works harder than the other two, just because of his Napolean complex. I think his build is less natural than the other two, but I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.
Anyway, one day I was doing preacher curls on the curling bench with a barbell and the brick shit-house and his friends were behind me at the upright row station. This happened to be one of the days where they were giving the little guy wedgies. I don’t know his name, but since he’s the smallest I call him Kurt. It makes sense to me. Every time Kurt tries to start his set of upright rows one of them gives him a wedgie. He’s getting really pissed and the other two laugh harder the more pissed he gets. I can see all this through a mirror in front of me and I can’t help but laugh silently as Kurt struggles to pull his underwear out of his butt.
Kurt thinks he’s yelled loud enough to get his friends to stop and let him finish his set. But, when he turns back to the bar, they both grab his underwear and hike them up to his shoulder blades. Kurt lets out a loud groan. His two friends let go after about ten or fifteen seconds, not long enough if you ask me. Kurt is pulling his underwear out of his butt and is swearing some more at his friends when he catches sight of me in the mirror, laughing at him.
“Don’t laugh at me dude. You’ll be next.” He warns.
I’m so shocked, I turn red. I try to play it off like I wasn’t looking and go on to my next set.
“Yeah” says the bigger guy, who is not the brick-shit house, I call him Dolf because he looks like a dark haired Dolf Lungren, “Once you’ve spotted us, you’re fair game for wedgies.”
“I’ll consider myself warned.” I said, lamely.
I’m so flustered I have to stop the set. The idea of them paying this much attention to me gets my juices flowing. My balls shift as more blood starts to flow to the region and I put my head down on the bench to concentrate on not getting a boner.
It was a few moments later when it happened. While my head was still down I felt a strong pair of large hands grab my wrists and pin them to the bench. I looked up and it was the Brick Shit-House towering over me, leering down at me with a sadistic grin. I didn’t have much time to take the situation in as I was very quickly paying attention to a pair of hands on my underpants. Sitting at the preacher curl bench my ass was pointing skyward, practically begging for a wedgie. Well, I was going to get one.
Kurt took the energy he wanted to put into the upright row and put it into my wedgie. The first yank was excruciating as I was helpless to stop my underpants from rushing into my ass crack. I could feel Kurt’s hands at my shoulder blades. He had yanked my underwear most the way up my back on the first yank.
“That’s what you get for laughing at me.” Kurt laughed.
The Brick Shit-House was laughing as well and Dolf was too. Dolf started laughing very hard and started saying “Wait!” over and over.
“Wait for what?” Kurt asked.
“Look.” Dolf was still laughing. “He’s got tighty-whiteys on.”
“Oh no way” The Brick Shit-House laughed and leaned over me to see. I could smell his B.O. It was musty and bitter and I liked it.
“I can’t believe you got them so high on your first yank” Brick said, “What kind of underwear are those?”
There was a brief second of some minor relief as Kurt recoiled for a second yank. With the force of a freight train, Kurt pulled higher. The front panel of my underpants started to enter my anus, folding my nuts back and squashing my dick on the way. My ass crack was on fire. I let out a pained “oh!” as I lost my breath a little bit.
“Holy Shit” said Brick, “You’re going to pull them over his head!”
He no longer needed to lean over me to see my underpants as Kurt had them up to my neck.
“Okay, okay. You got me. Let go please.” I was still trying to catch a breath. I believe my balls had curled up into my stomach.
“Sorry dude. This is too hilarious. I have to see if I can get them over your head.” Kurt said. “It’s just one of those things. I have to do it.”
Dolf was practically rolling on the floor.
Kurt yanked really hard twice in a row. My balls definitely retracted that time. The front band of my underwear was between my legs and my dick was folded in somewhere in the stretched out fabric between my legs. My underwear went further inside my body than I thought was possible.
“Seriously, I think I just lost a testicle.” I said, barely able to catch a breath.
“Shut up already little dude.” Kurt said, “I know it hurts. Unless you have a suggestion on how to get them over your head I don’t want to hear it.”
Kurt was clearly frustrated that he could only get my waistband to the base of my skull. Instead of recoiling for another yank, he just started applying upward pressure with both hands. I made odd grunts and other odd noises as he strained to give me an atomic wedgie.
“You have to bend his head back” Brick Shit-House offered, “His back has to arch. You’ll never get it this way.”
“This is the stretchiest underwear ever. I can get it over his head.” Kurt insisted, yanking up on my underwear for emphasis. I was pretty sure my ass was bleeding.
“Look at the leg holes,” Dolf was still laughing, “I can fit my head through one of those?”
“Little Dude, why won’t your underpants go over your head?” The Brick Shit-House laughed, “Seriously, Jim. I think he’s had enough.”
Apparently Kurt’s name was Jim. But that wouldn’t stop me from calling him Kurt.
“One minute guys,” Kurt said as I groaned in protest, “Help me out. Everyone take a side.”
Dolf was in right away. Suddenly they were both behind me, each with two hands on my stretched out waist band. As they were adjusting they finally gave my undies some slack and my privates a little relief. I wriggled a little to try and loosen some of the fabric from my crotch and crack and hoping that my testicles might descend…intact. My wriggling started Dolf laughing again.
The Brick Shit-House was trying to adjust his grip on my wrists and grab my underpants at the same time. I was getting very nervous as my dick began to grow at the prospect of him touching my underwear. My oblivious dick was just setting itself up for more searing pain from my front waistband which still had it pinned, bent in half, between my legs.
“Hold on.” Kurt said, “I need you in back. You’re the tallest. We’ll take the sides. Take this…”
He tugged the fabric between the legs holes which was completely exposed. The seam between the front and back panel was probably well above my gym shorts. The tugging renewed the pain and the helpless feeling of ownership. They all followed Kurt’s instructions and took their new positions. Kurt grabbed my left hand and the left side of my undies while Dolf had my right side. The Brick Shit-House was behind my positioning his left hand on my waistband and his right hand on the fabric between the leg holes. It was all framed in front of me in the mirror. My dick was a raging hard-on as I saw The Brick Shit-House behind me with a sadistic grin on his face.
“1…2…3”
All three of them lifted me up at the same time as high as they could. My underpants were eight feet up in the air and my ass was six feet in the air. They laughed at my face which was contorted in pain. My balls were in my throat and my dick was being slowly sliced by my front waistband. It was the pain in my anus that was unbearable. My ass was being spread, torn and burned by my own underpants against my own body weight.
“Oh yes!” Shouted Kurt, “It’s gonna go over his head.”
“Bounce him.” Said the Brick Shit-House.
The low dominant sound of his voice turned me on, but I barely noticed the sensation of pleasure and they started bouncing me up and down. The inertia of my weight and their strength made my underwear feel like a burning blade along my chode and ass crack. I couldn’t believe how far into my body my underwear was going. My dick finally popped out of my underpants on the fifth or sixth yank and the remaining two inches of my underpants that my dick had been stopping from entering my anus, entered. As my feet touched the floor I knew it was my last reprieve before excrutiating pain. My front waistband was now at the edge of my anus. I was truly being wedged in half by my underpants. The guys had figured out how to bounce me so that I didn’t quite touch the floor before they pulled up again. In the mirror, I looked like a pathetic bouncing rag doll…with a huge hard-on. I knew my underpants had to be close to being able to pull over my head, but the guys were having too much fun with the bouncing. It now felt like something was pulling my ass cheeks apart to opposite sides of the room. The front panel had been reduced to a thin white rope that was digging in and burning the flesh off my ass crack and causing excrutiating searing pain. Worse, though, was the humiliation of not being in control of my own underpants; being in excrutiating pain as my tormentors laughed and enjoyed my humiliation while…Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip!!!
I fell straight to the ground and backwards into the Brick Shit-House. He pulled the ripped waistband over my head and let it rest on my forehead just above my
eyebrows. The trainer had just walked in, a very built man named Rick.
“Problem with your underwear, buddy?” He was trying not to laugh.
“He’s okay.” Brick Shit-House said as he turned me towards him, “Are you okay?”
“I think I’ll need to put burn cream on my ass crack and I hope my testicles come back down some day.” I replied, pathetically.
“I didn’t mean that.” He said and looked down at my crotch. I still had a boner. He winked at me.
“Okay, no more horseplay.” The trainer said.
“Just the waistband ripped,” Kurt said “Let’s rip the rest off.”
“No no no.” Brick Shit-House said, “That’s enough.”
He did an awkward things were he grabbed my triceps and pulled up a little so I was on my tippy-toes.
“Pull his pants down though.” He said.
Before I could process what was happening I felt my pants go down around my ankles. The Brick Shit-House pulled me closer to him and held his thigh against my dick.
They all laughed in surprise at how high up my crack my underpants were stuck.
“Dude, I think they’re fused to your tailbone.” Dolf laughed.
As they continued to laugh, The Brick Shit-House let go of my arms and I covered my fading boner. He bent down and pulled up my pants for me as I began to remove the fabric from my ass crack. I let out a long loud yell as I peeled my shredded underpants off of my wounded ass crack.
“Yes!” I cried. “My testicles just descended.” They all laughed and patted me on the back. They gave me the “I owned you, touch fists” gesture and I returned it. I had definitely won their favor even if it was with blood. This was just the beginning of my wedgie adventures with the Brick Shit-House.
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