The Dick Size Competition

These were the three unbreakable, arduous directives and statutes to the match and game:

1. The contestants and contenders in the match can exclusively be boys and men alone-those only above eighteen years old and no more younger nor immature than this.

2. Each participator and challenger has to pay by compulsion a hundred dollars as his admittance and ticket fee into the thrilling contest. The spectators and onlookers are to fork out by a hair's exact breath fifty dollars so they can watch the game and what's more cast votes for their much-loved participators.

3. The utilisation of ecological or natural or even scientifically readied-up herbs and basils and drugs in seeking to enlarge and make falsely bigger one's own penis is outlawed and disapproved. Those who expand and add to their natural size's penis either by natural or unnatural means are rebuffed and turned down from ever involving themselves in the competition. They can only be onlookers of the game, or co-operatively marshals and guides and attendants once the contest is up and running effectively.

4. Anyone who takes part or involves himself in the game is to make it their hush-hush, closet secret so long as they are to have life and breath and being in the world of the living. They can only disclose this deep-seated secret to their fellow men and big boys, and never to women and ladies! No! This is not a competition or fight for the gays or queers. Men of such sexual orientation and category are free and unbound to participate and play a part in the game. All decrees and statues as regards and concerns this contest are to be altered and revolutionised once a woman or lady finds out and learns about the game. All disloyal and treacherous members are to be relentlessly and sternly punished by having their dicks pinched and pressed and tweaked with dick grinders and rods and testicles crushers and pounders, but not to a close or near death state.

5. The first winner in the contest is to walk away with five thousand dollars in hard cash and ready money and also spend a two-week vacation trip and holiday to the choice of his destiny anywhere in the world; the second victor goes away with three thousand dollars and a week long festival and celebration anywhere within the United States; while the third frontrunner swaggers away with a thousand dollars and a week-stretched break and trip to any place within the margins and perimeters of the state of Nevada.

When Chase Hughes first entered into the contest, he had minor and slight hopes that he could possibly come first or even be successful in any of the three venerated places. With genuinely and totally black hair, and easy-going and docile gray eyes, and a vigorous and robust-built body, he was certainly and undeniably a perfect example and model of mannish gorgeousness and splendor. Not only that. He kept and stocked a full-size, unflaw-shaped dick down there inside his pants. It was the sweetheart and dearest thing he loved next to himself. Every passing morning, he gracefully and delicately rinsed and washed it with awareness, and then went on to measure and guage it up with his tape. It was lengthy and stretched, spanning twelve inches when slumbering or taking a nap and making it as far as thirty-two inches when fully waked up and roused from its sleep.

There was this funny, perplexing thing though. Miss Mila Brooks. She was Chase's novel chair and tutor in Theories of Crime here at Wotton University in Las Vegas where he was studying his Law with Criminology bachelors. He was purely and naively a first year, new and fresh to the establishment and institution of higher learning just like her.

High and lofty, lean and wiry-like, with small, roughly undersized breasts and a practically and virtually massive, flawlessly-and-seamlessly formed behind, Mila was an eye-catching and dazzling beauty, twisting and spinning heads towards herself whenever she marched and staggered down the lengthy, extensive passageways of Wotton, making both her male and female students salivate and slobber whenever she grinned and smiled at them cheerfully in class.

Her hair was a glowing light brown and protracted and wholesome healthy too; her skin was a divine and godlike-looking dark gold, making her seem and look as if she belonged to some bygone and ancient Spanish parentage and lineage now swapped and switched into the French and English lines. Each time that she had her face aimed and pointed at the massive board before her, and her behind directed and pointed towards the scholars, the big boys could not help but take note and observation of her gorgeous, fine-looking ass while it wiggled gently and smoothly left and right, to and fro.

One female in class, who was well-known and notorious for slapping and smacking other girl's bums with her hands and openly coming clean and acknowledging to be lesbian, made the following, subsequent remark concerning Miss Brooks, "Our Theories of Crime tutor is so beautiful and fascinating I cannot successfully confine myself from seeing her lying down naked in my icy bed as she bit by bit kisses my lips and breasts and gradually strips me naked."

The afternoon Mila slammed and banged her hand down on Chase's table for bluntly and ingeniously staring at her and not speaking anything when she asked him a straightforward, easy question based on the plain subject that she was just lecturing, he shook to his senses and logic all of a sudden and frightfully, now dreading to look into those very striking hazel eyes that he was a while ago taking pleasure to glance and leer at. The entire class chuckled and hooted out at him while the lovely tutor pinched and squeezed nearly-shut her eyes. "I appreciate and value students that pay attention to me when I am talking, young sir, but not so when they absent and don't pay minor, trivial interest and awareness to what I am conferring about."

It was a huge disgrace and humiliation on Chase's part, but he did survive and push past through the mortifying disgrace anyway.

So many times, while Mila was meticulously and conscientiously schooling and tutoring in class, his asleep dick would hastily and unexpectedly rise up on its own, much to his own remorse and shame, making him attempt to stare away from her and thus still and calm it down as a result. She had this prevailing and influential sexually-arousing bearing on him that he could not painlessly make clear or even put up in words.

One sunlit, optimistic afternoon while having a snack with his finest friend, Carter Simpson, inside the luxury and lavish students inn and tavern located within the walls and barriers of Wotton, Chase had the coming dialogue with his intimate, cherished friend:

"I have become aware of this as of lately, Chase. Not just I myself. But the rest of the class are chattering and spreading news about it. You happen to be strongly and very much attracted to our new tutor, Miss Brooks. Tell me everything that is genuinely true about this."

While tasting his glass of Coke, Chase faced Carter and opened up to him, "Can you believe that I all the time have forceful, compelling erections whenever I am seated there inside her class. They start the minute she walks in and only come to an ending after she has moved out of class."

Carter massaged and chafed his chin at hearing this. His moustache, just like Chase's, was so cautiously and charily shaved and polished neatly it had no any curls or whiskers of beard on it. Not any!

"Well, I have felt and undergone the exact same for her too," Carter admitted.

Chase glanced and looked over him with deep inquisitiveness and marvel. "You mean your dick also emerges and stands on its own when Miss Brooks is teaching in class?" The words were slightly but closely whispered.

Carter delayed to give back an immediate response, "Now and then. It doesn't come about every time that she stands and walks liberally into our class."

"But it does ensue to you, right, Carter?" From a pale and wobbly-alike whisper, the words were now slowly converting into more of a hasty and lackadaisical screech and bark.

"Yes."

"That is my point. I can't hold my feelings for her anymore. I must find ways and means to get close to her and unleash these resilient, strong-concentrated emotions and sensations that I have for her deep inside me."

"Concentrated emotions, you say?"

Chase made an uncomprehending and bemused face. "Exactly. I have a profound, deep-rooted and locked away crush for Miss Brooks, you know? It is so entrenched and deep-seated somewhere here inside my chest."

Carter couldn't help it but get traumatized and appalled. He felt the same exact way for Miss Brooks as well. And now it seemed like his beloved friend was going to make his moves on her first. Was not he a shamefaced jerk and complete idiot for not daring to profess his inherent feelings about her in the first place-before Chase himself eventually did it?

It was true and sincere. Mila was thoroughly and exceedingly beautiful. But she wasn't all that cheerful and fortunate deep inside her heart and private life. She was especially and incredibly rich, her longing and craving to be wealthy and first-class in life being the exact basis and motive that she was now a slave in a loveless and unpleasant marriage. Even if she was just twenty-six years old and extraordinarily gorgeous and moneyed with millions and millions more of dollars to her possession and rights, marriage to Brandon Hall, who had plucked and picked her up from the terrifying, hazardous streets where a fifteen-old she and her pitiable mother were fast and unquestionably giving up the ghost, was a living nightmare and misery altogether.

At unusual, atypical times, Mila wished and yearned that she had kicked the bucket on those dire, appalling streets than to have lived long enough to suffer and put up with happening now. Brandon was an incredibly and enormously rich man, a self-made multi-millionaire capitalist, who won Mila away from those hazardous streets only to marry her in the end and also educate and help her reach these haughty, soaring heights that she was now lazing around and stretching herself out in. It was all bliss and dreamland for them, until Mila started up her fashion and beauty interrelated commerce in her extra time, which was now gradually but certainly coming to be one of the most flourishing and thriving ones in the whole of Las Vegas. She owned a boutique and a string and series of beauty stores and parlours by the name of 'Mila Brooks.'

Brandon was fiercely and aggresively resentful and mistrustful and jealous towards her, yes, even to her tiny jot small victories and winning achievements. For this, he now acted and dealt with her nastily and heartlessly. His greatest fear? She was too good-looking and fairly becoming lucrative and winning to the extent that any other man out there could unexpectedly and swiftly notice her and well, pilfer and thieve her away from him.

Under Brandon's severe and austere influence and restrain, Mila was definitely and indisputably feeling that she was losing and being ridden more and more of her liberty and autonomy and free will and coming to be more and more of his slave and mat of a wife. He trampled and trudged her as he felt and desired like. If she quarrelled and disputed that much with him, she risked being hit and punched and thrashed maliciously. Just a small disagreement and squabble, and a solid, grueling slap would be speedy and rapid to strike and whack her in the face.

Brandon commanded what he wanted her to eat in his house and what she shouldn't ever dare to taste or touch. Fast and weight boosting-up foods were tolerated, whilst any other form of slimming and low-fat diet were made illegal and a greatly punishable wrong and offense altogether. While Brandon himself consumed and gorged these fast, highly-flavoured foods, he wasn't all that overweight and portly. He frequently and habitually gobbled and scoffed any high-fiber and low-fat foodstuffs when not home and exercised and trained and also kept himself fit and in excellent shape as often and systematically as he could; while Mila herself was conferred and furnished with modest tiny time to keep herself fit or work out and look after her attractiveness and beauty.