Jake's Big Lesson (Short story)

Jake’s Big Lesson
Written By SteeleBlazer

Jake Anderson was a self-proclaimed big man on campus and starting quarterback for the college’s football team, and he never faced a challenge he couldn't overcome with his charm, muscles, and cocky attitude. That’s why, when he learned that due to a failing grade, he was no longer eligible to be on the football team, Jake didn’t bat an eye at the news. He even told his teammates, who were freaking out over his pending ineligibility, not to sweat it and that it’d be no sweat for him to change his grade. He was brash, and he was confident that he could sway that uptight, middle-aged teacher of his failing class into fixing her error in judgment.

The class in question that he was failing, whether or not pertinent or relevant, was Introduction to Gender Studies. He’d heard it was an easy A, and the teacher sounded like some loony feminist that he knew would be a real pushover. And now, it was his chance to test his whole thesis for joining the class in the first place—not that he wrote or even bothered reading any of the actual coursework, class syllabus, or any of the treatises or theses put forward in the actual class. He wasn’t big on studying; he was a big man, and he was going to show his teacher the error of her ways for thinking she could fail him.

So, he stormed into Ms. Armstrong's office without even knocking. The door slammed open with a loud bang, startling the few students still lingering in the hallway. Jake's smug figure strode in without hesitation, wearing his team’s jersey proudly displaying that he was a big man on campus, exuding an air of entitlement that came naturally to him. He dropped into the chair opposite Ms. Armstrong's desk, lounging back as if he owned the place.

"Ms. Armstrong, we need to talk about this grade you gave me," he said, his tone dripping with confidence. "An F? Really? You know I can't play unless I pass this class. And let's be real, I don't just need a passing grade. I deserve an A. After all, I'm the star of the football team."

He leaned forward, flashing a charming smile, fully expecting it to be enough to sway her. His eyes scanned her up and down, dismissing her as nothing more than an old, middle-aged woman with no idea about the world of football and his importance in it. Everyone knows the importance of football and how it funds the college, and everyone should know the importance of him for the team. It’s big men like him that keep the big bucks flowing into this otherwise small school. She should know her place—this is his school. They just allow her and the other crackpots a small corner to teach their pointless lessons so they can call this dump a school. But she needs to stay out of his way and not bother him with school and stuff and lessons that he’ll never have to learn.

"You don't want to be the one who benched the best player this college has ever seen, do you? C'mon, Ms. Armstrong. Let's fix this little mistake."

"Mr. Anderson, I'd say sit down, but it seems you already made yourself at home... would you mind and please take your shoes off my desk? You're messing up my papers," Ms. Armstrong replied calmly.

Jake's smirk widened, but he didn't move his feet right away. He leaned forward a bit, looking directly into Ms. Armstrong's eyes.

"Sure thing, Ms. Armstrong," he said, his tone still dripping with arrogance. He slowly lowered his feet from the desk, making a show of it, and not minding that more than a few of the papers fell to the floor. "But let's not get distracted here. We both know why I'm here. That F on my report? It's gotta change. And like I said, not just to a passing grade, I need an A."

"You need an A? But why should I give you an A? Tell me, why do you deserve an A? You're one of my worst students. You and those two teammates of yours are by far the worst students I've ever had the displeasure of teaching in all my years teaching," Ms. Armstrong remarked.

Jake chuckled, unable to resist mocking her. "All your years of teaching, huh? Must be quite a lot of them. But look, Ms. Armstrong, let's be honest here. It's not about me deserving an A because of my class performance. It's about what I bring to this school. I put this college on the map. The games, the sponsorships, the alumni donations—all because of me. My success is this school's success. So, how about you cut me a break and give me the grade I need?"

“I can’t give you an A, that wouldn’t be earned or deserved. An A is only earned after putting in the hard work, I can tell you what I can do though… I can get you a tutor to help bring your grade up.”

“Fuck that, and fuck having a tutor. I don’t give a fuck about hard work or earning anything. I want my A and you’re going to give it to me!” Jake shouted angrily at Ms. Armstrong.

"I can't do that... that wouldn't be fair to the other students... and it goes against my integrity as a teacher," Ms. Armstrong responded firmly.

Jake's smirk faded, replaced by a look of annoyance. He leaned forward, his tone growing colder. "Integrity, huh? Fairness? Let's cut the crap, Ms. Armstrong. We both know life isn't fair. You keep your integrity, and I'll keep the football team winning. You think those other students matter more than the future of this college's sports program? I don't think so."

He narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You don't want to be the reason this school loses its best player, do you? Change my grade to an A. Now."

"I can't do that... it goes against my integrity and my convictions... What kind of teacher would I be if I gave you an A? What would you have learned from me?" Ms. Armstrong said, standing her ground.

Jake's frustration deepened, and he stood up abruptly, towering over Ms. Armstrong's desk. His hands slammed down on the surface, papers scattering everywhere. "You're really starting to test my patience, Ms. Armstrong. What would I have learned? Maybe that sometimes, you gotta play the game to win. Just like in football. So, here's what's going to happen. You're going to change my grade, or things are going to get real unpleasant around here."

He loomed over her, his voice low and threatening. "I'm not leaving until you give me that A."

Ms. Armstrong remained unfazed. "Hmmm... Maybe this can be a learning experience... Let's test your strength of conviction against mine, and the winner will decide whether you pass or fail. So, are you up for a simple test, young man?"

Jake raised an eyebrow, surprised by the challenge. He straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest with a cocky grin. "A test? Sure, why not. I'm always up for a little competition. What do you have in mind, Ms. Armstrong?"

"Since you're the big man on campus, and I'm just a lowly little teacher... Let's make this something physical. Why don't we have an arm-wrestling match? After all, I figure it wouldn't be fair for me to make it a challenge of wits," Ms. Armstrong proposed.

Jake laughed, the sound echoing in the small office. "An arm-wrestling match? Against you? This is gonna be a piece of cake." He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a well-defined arm, and moved to sit across from Ms. Armstrong, placing his elbow firmly on the desk. "Alright, Ms. Armstrong, let's do this. Just don't be too upset when I win."

He smirked, ready for what he believed would be an easy victory.

Ms. Armstrong just smiled and started unbuttoning her sweater. Jake's confident grin faltered, replaced by one of confusion. Everything that he thought he knew about men and women, and the differences between genders was wrong. He thought men were the stronger sex, and that women naturally were smaller and weaker, but this fact was belied by the woman sitting across from him. For when she removed her sweater, she revealed a muscular physique with muscles that were bigger and thicker than his. She had on a tight shirt beneath her sweater, and that tight taut shirt really did wonders showcasing her muscularity. The outlines and definition of her pecs were clearly visible as her big breasts rested on the thick meaty slabs. The sleeves of her shirt strained against her brawny and powerful arms.

"There's a reason why everyone calls me Ms. Armstrong," she said with a smug smile. She flexed, and the sleeves of her shirt actually ripped and tore as her huge bicep peaks exploded and swelled upward. She held the flex and cocked an eyebrow at Jake, smiling smugly.

"What the hell..." he muttered, his voice trailing off as he stared at her flexed bicep, the sheer size of her biceps were undeniably impressive, far surpassing his own. And far surpassing what he believed physically possible for a woman to be able to achieve. “No way you or any other woman could be this strong or muscular,“ he said to himself as he swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure.

“It’s possible all right, I assure you, it just takes a lot of hard work,” Ms. Armstrong said giving him both a quick wink and a hearty chuckle and a good hard flex.

As her bicep mound swelled up and expanded, so too did Jake’s eyes expand growing wider along with her bicep. And while this might seem like stretching the truth, the truth is those biceps of hers once again stretched those sleeves so tightly that they once again were torn by the sheer muscular might of her flex.

Now Jake was the torn one, not sure if he should go forward with this challenge or balk at it due to the big, bulging, beefy biceps of Ms. Armstrong and those strong arms of hers. Still, she was only just a woman, and he was, after all, the big man on campus, and he knew he could put her back in her place and teach her a lesson for having the gall to teach him one herself. All he had to do was forcibly place her hand down onto the desk… He should be able to do that without even breaking a sweat… Even though, looking at those biceps of hers, he might actually be starting to perspire a little…

“Alright, Ms. Armstrong," he said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Let's see what you've got."

He placed his elbow on the desk again, but this time, there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes as he prepared for the arm-wrestling match.

"Let's see if your muscles are as big as that mouth of yours," Ms. Armstrong said as she took his hand and gave it a cracking hard squeeze, smiling and laughing.

Jake winced slightly at the unexpected strength of Ms. Armstrong's grip but quickly masked his discomfort with a forced laugh of his own.

He tried to squeeze back with all his might, but her hand remained rock solid. His confidence wavered as they locked eyes, and he braced himself for the inevitable contest of strength, realizing he was in for a tougher challenge than he anticipated. He was actually starting to sweat, and to think he’d actually bragged and told his worried teammates that it’d be, “no sweat,” in getting his grade changed… It turns out he was in fact mistaken and it wouldn’t be the last time today that he would in fact be mistaken. For this big man on campus was about to find out maybe he’s not as big as what he thought he was.

"I'll give you one more chance... If you want a passing grade, I could set you up with a nice tutor, and after a few weeks or months, I'm sure you'll get your grades back up to passing... or we can continue this foolish little game of yours... and should you fail... you'll fail my class!" Ms. Armstrong said as she gave his hand another crushing squeeze.

Jake yanked his hand back, a pained expression crossing his face as he stifled a cry. He glared at Ms. Armstrong, now visibly shaken by her unexpected strength. She just chuckled and shrugged those imposing and impossibly wide shoulders of hers and not so casually gave him a slow and deliberate flex. The very sight of which only seemed to mock him and all his masculine and chauvinistic beliefs, and the very act of her flexing both her arm and pecs only fueled his frustration, as her muscles stretched and strained the fabric of her clothes in ways he thought impossible, certainly let alone for a middle-aged woman like her.

"You think you can intimidate me with those-­those girly muscles, Ms. Armstrong?" he snapped, though his bravado sounded hollow. "I’m a man… And I’m a BIG MAN at this school and you’re just a pathetic little woman who needs to learn her place. I don't need a tutor. I need that grade now!"

Despite his words, he couldn't help but feel a growing sense of doubt, realizing he might have underestimated the "lowly little teacher" far more than he thought possible.

"Well then... show me what a big man on campus you are..." Ms. Armstrong said as she put her elbow down and gesticulated with her fingers giving them a little bit of flair and a wave, as she beckoned him to once again lock hands with him so they can continue with his foolish challenge.

Jake hesitated for a moment, his confidence visibly shaken, but pride forced him to continue. He placed his elbow back on the desk, gripping Ms. Armstrong's hand with renewed determination.

"Alright, I don’t care if your name is Armstrong, you’re just a woman and I’m a-“

“BIG MAN!” Ms. Armstrong interjected as gave his hand a fresh squeeze and reminder of her steely strength.

He gritted his teeth as he tightened his grip, trying to ignore the lingering ache from her previous squeezes, and he tried to steel himself for the arm-wrestling match, but he couldn’t ignore her own steely grip and he began to fear that he wasn’t man enough to defeat his middle-aged female teacher. But, what could he do, he couldn’t give up now, knowing that backing down now would be even worse than losing.

"One, two, three... Go!" Ms. Armstrong said.

Jake pushed with all his strength, his muscles straining as he tried to budge Ms. Armstrong's arm. To his shock and frustration, her arm didn't move an inch. Her smile only made his effort feel more futile.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he gritted his teeth, pushing even harder, but her arm remained rock steady and as unmoving as a great big boulder. And that rock-hard bicep of hers might as well have been a boulder, and it didn’t so much as budge in the slightest as it bulges up higher and higher, as Jake’s own arm starts to shake and quiver from straining against those indomitable dominating muscles of hers.

"What the hell..." he muttered, his confidence evaporating as he realized just how outmatched he was.

"A lesson for you... No matter how big or strong you may be, there is always someone bigger and stronger!" Ms. Armstrong said.

She then squeezed his hand so hard that he heard the bones in his fingers cracking. This was his hand he used to throw the football! This was the hand attached to what many sports journalists called a golden arm, only his golden arm was proving soft against her steely grip and iron muscles! She gave him another squeeze this one impossibly harder than the last—but most probably one of the most painful experiences he’d ever felt in his life.

Jake's eyes widened in shock and pain as he felt the bones in his hand cracking under Ms. Armstrong's iron grip. His bravado shattered, replaced by a desperate, pained expression.

"Stop! Stop! You're breaking my hand!" he cried out, his voice filled with a mixture of panic and agony.

His whine was just music to Ms. Armstrong’s ears as she chuckled to herself and celebrated his discomfort by flexing smugly.  She didn’t just flex her arms, but rather both of her pecs too, popping off her pecs slowly and bouncing her breasts up and down as she showed off her muscular control, as she easily controlled the arm-wrestling match.

"Lesson number two: nothing is stronger than mighty female muscles!" she declared.

She then gave truth to her words and squeezed Jake’s hand so hard that she broke all the fingers and phalanges in his hand and slammed his hand down onto the table with such force that more papers flew and fell off the desk, and the impact of the slam broke whatever bones that weren’t already broken in that damaged hand of his, and Jake was subsequently also thrown out of his chair and onto the floor by the sheer might and power of his teachers mighty female muscles.

Jake's scream of agony filled the room; it was a scream of disbelief as much as pain… Only perhaps maybe even more so of pain, as he had never felt such pain and agony in his entire life… But then again, he never would have thought he could ever be beaten in arm-wrestling, let alone injured, by his female middle-aged teacher… But that was precisely Jake’s problem; he was never one for thinking… He had failed to win the match, just as he had failed her class, and now all he could do was clutch his shattered hand and writhe in pain, as his arrogance was now completely shattered.

He didn’t know what hurt more—the agony of his broken hand, or the agony of losing not only to a woman, but to a middle-aged woman—his Introduction to Gender Studies teacher. This really went against everything he knew—or thought he knew—about being a man. He thought he was a big man, and yet it appears he wasn’t as big as his teacher. One could say he had a lot to learn, and while learning was never his strong suit—now, being literally strong-armed by the impossibly strong arm of his middle-aged teacher—he was in a position to possibly, for the first time in his life, learn. Learn his lesson, learn from his mistakes, and perhaps he’d be a big enough man to admit these things… Or perhaps not.

Ms. Armstrong stood over him, her powerful form casting a shadow over the defeated quarterback, and suddenly Ms. Armstrong not only seemed so much bigger, he also subsequently never felt smaller in his entire life.

"You're lucky, Mr. Anderson," she said, her voice steady and commanding.

Jake looked up from the floor, his hand throbbing with pain, eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. "Lucky? How am I lucky?" he managed to choke out between pained breaths.

"That I'm not one to hold a grudge... That I'm a bigger person than you... and I'll give you one last chance to get your grades up. I'll get you a tutor, and seeing that you'll be sidelined with your injury for quite a bit of time, you should have no objections to taking this offer of mine... I've got just the perfect tutor in mind for you," Ms. Armstrong explained.

Jake, still cradling his injured hand, looked up at Ms. Armstrong, his bravado completely gone. He nodded weakly, his voice barely a whisper.

"Alright, I'll take the tutor. Just...please, no more." Jake whimpered as he struggled to bring himself back up onto his feet and stand. In fact Ms. Armstrong helped him to his feet, and while he flinched at first when she initially grabbed him, fearing she was going to lift him up into some kind of body slam or suplex or some other kind of painful wrestling hold, he once again realized her great and powerful strength as she effortlessly and gently lifted him back onto his feet.

He was never one for thanking people and so it wasn’t a big surprise that he couldn’t bring himself to thank her for helping him up, let alone he couldn’t bring himself to look her in her eyes. His eyes downcast, he could not meet Ms. Armstrong’s confident gaze and nonetheless she smiled fully aware that he has no other choice but to accept her offer.

Resigned to his fate Jake felt nothing like the brash and arrogant big man on campus as he sat back down onto the chair, feeling small and weak and helpless as he was belittled in ways he never thought possible by the person he thought least of all could ever belittle him. As he slumped in the chair Ms. Armstrong’s imposing physique cast both a figurative and literal shadow over him, and all he could do was wince as he cradled his injured hand and came to the humbling realization that he wasn’t  as big of a man as he thought… Or maybe he gulped as he looked up at Ms. Armstrong and her Amazonian physique she was way more of a woman than he could ever imagine.

"Good... Now be a good little boy and sit down right there and behave," Ms. Armstrong instructed. Before she left, she adjusted her shirt and skirt making sure everything was in order and as she was satisfied by her effort she gave her arms another approving flex, and her whole body flared out with a brawny bulging sense of pride, and as she squared out and flared out her shoulders she seemed not just larger than ever but larger than life… Whatever that means, Jake couldn’t certainly tell you, but without a doubt she was the largest woman Jake had ever seen in his life. In fact she was perhaps even the largest person he’d ever seen on or off the football field.

The very sight of her made him want to cower, and left him not just breathless but in a stupor of profound stupidity, which was a natural state of occurrence for Jake. Before Ms. Armstrong left the room, she took one last moment to look at Jake as he was sunken down and hunched over on that chair in her office, and she squared her shoulders once more, letting all those beautiful sinewy striations ripple across her wide imposing body, many of those striations themselves were in fact visible through the tightly strained fabric and chuckled one last time and strutted out of her office, proud that her lesson had finally sunk in.

Alone in the room he took a deep breathe, his mind still reeling from the encounter, and he thought to himself, that at least things couldn’t get any worse… And like almost everything in his life, especially when it comes to standardized tests, Jake was about to once again be proven wrong.

He figured he might be forced to take a tutor, but he’d force that nerdy little tutor to do all his work, and really, this wasn’t a horrible outcome. He’d played injured before—he’d wrap up his fingers, wrap up his hand, and he’d prove to Ms. Armstrong that he was still the big man on campus. Only, he still couldn’t really wrap his mind around just how mind-boggling strong she was and how those muscles of hers bulged with a strength he’d never seen or felt. And he really couldn’t wrap his mind around how he could play injured—not when his hand still hurt the way it did, and he feared it might never stop hurting... or maybe that was just his pride that would never stop hurting...

A moment later, she returned with Su Ling, a petite, nerdy-looking girl wearing thick black-rimmed glasses, a hefty sweater, and a long skirt. At first blush, Su Ling was in fact blushing, she seemed to be more than a little thick and overweight, or so that’s what Jake thought. But, then again he’d been wrong on everything he thought he knew today, and once again he was proving why he wasn’t really much of a thinker. Despite her nerdy appearance, she was pretty in her own way, though Jake immediately dismissed her as a real nerd, and was dreading what everyone around campus would think of when they say the two of them together. He couldn’t help but groan whether from the thought of being seen with her in public, or from the pain of his broken hand, but Su Ling beamed with excitement, unbeknownst to Jake she had a little crush on him.

"This is Su Ling," Ms. Armstrong announced as she sat on top of her desk, knocking over more papers.  By now more were on the floor than the desk itself. "She'll be your tutor."

Su Ling stepped forward, her enthusiasm evident. "Hi, Jake! I'm really looking forward to helping you with your studies."

Jake forced a weak smile, his mind still reeling from the day's events. "Yeah...thanks."

Ms. Armstrong chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the situation. "Now, Mr. Anderson, Su Ling isn't some pushover. She's got the strong, firm hand someone like you needs to keep you in check. Isn't that right, Su Ling?"

Su Ling nodded eagerly. "Yes, that’s right Ms. Armstrong,” she said once again sharing a knowing smile with her teacher and mentor.

An awkward silence hung in the air as Su Ling stood in front of Jake, her hand outstretched. After a moment, Jake sluggishly stood up and, without thinking, offered his damaged hand to shake hers—the same hand that had more broken bits in it than fingers. The moment their hands connected, Su Ling's grip tightened like a velvet glove cast in iron. Jake cried out in pain, wincing and yanking his hand back. Su Ling’s face flushed a rosy hue again as she realized she was now literally and figuratively crushing on her crush—a thought she loved far more than Jake did. The irony if not the absurdity of it all would be entirely lost on him, leaving him with only one feeling now... Lost… Like a loser.

Ms. Armstrong and Su Ling shared another laugh, this one quite boisterous and gregarious as Su Ling without provocation or prompting, proudly  rolled up a sleeve of her sweater, revealing a muscular arm that looked out of place on such a petite nerdy girl as herself. She gave that arm a flex and her bicep burst out on that arm exploding into a mountainous peak of pure feminine muscular might, and the two women once again burst out in bawdy laughter.

Her muscles weren’t just big for a girl, but were just plain big, and were way, way bigger than Jake’s muscles, and the sight of her flexing so confidently and proudly filled him in with both awe and fear. And once again he didn’t feel like a big man on campus, he could feel that brash ego of his deflating more and more as he stood before these two muscular woman, as Ms. Armstrong joined in with Su Ling’s flexing and gave testament to her namesake.

Jake's face flushed with a mix of pain, embarrassment, and disbelief as he cradled his throbbing hand. His eyes darted between Ms. Armstrong and Su Ling, his mind racing. How can this be happening? he thought, feeling utterly humiliated. First Ms. Armstrong, now this nerdy girl is stronger than me?

This can’t be happening Jake thought to himself, trying to think of a way out of this situation, but thinking was never his strong suit. And he couldn’t think of anything to wiggle or worm his way out and all he could think of was that it was impossible for these women to be stronger than him… A fact that his broken and aching hand proved was in fact possible.

Everything he thought he knew was turned upside down, which in hindsight wasn’t that much, as he was never much of a scholar… But, lucky for Jake that all was about to change.

"This...this is crazy," he muttered, still staring at Su Ling's flexed muscle. "You can't be serious." His voice wavers, a stark contrast to his usual cocky tone, as he struggles to process the reality of the situation.

"I'm afraid we are serious... You'd know so if you ever paid attention in class... but right now I know you're in good hands... Su Ling's strong, capable hands," Ms. Armstrong continued. "Now, you've disrupted me long enough. Your first act will be to clean up this mess and organize all my papers, and then I expect you to start on all the missing assignments and readings. You're to meet with Ms. Ling daily for no less than two hours each and every day."

She paused and stared at him, her eyes piercing through his fragile bravado. "Should you fail to show up, she'll be forced to find you...and she'll be forced to give you a lesson you really won't ever forget!"

Both women flexed their bulging muscles one last time, their veins throbbing with power, leaving Jake with no doubt that he was completely outmatched, and outmuscled.

Jake swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "Y-Yes, Ms. Armstrong. I'll...I'll clean it up right now." He bent down, beginning to gather the scattered papers, his injured hand making the task even more difficult. The weight of the situation finally settled in as he realized there was no escaping his new reality. And this was the start of true education, and he had just gotten his first big lesson of his entire life. The lesson was clear: no matter how big or strong he thought he was, there was always someone bigger and stronger. But, more importantly that there is nothing stronger than Mighty Female Muscles, a lesson that Su Ling would only all too happily reinforce in him daily during all their tutoring sessions.

And Jake learned that lesson—and many, many more—during the weeks and months of his injury. Surprisingly, he discovered that all his pain and suffering could have been easily avoided if he had simply gone to class and participated in the lessons. If he had, he would have learned that Ms. Armstrong was pioneering a groundbreaking theory on gender and using her class to study its impacts. Impacts that, let’s just say, Jake experienced firsthand—what with his damaged and broken hand and all.

It was all part of her plan to explore how a physically superior and stronger female presence could influence society and sports. And as it turns out, Jake proved to be a star pupil for Ms. Armstrong, as he became a prominent feature in her research papers. But sadly for Jake, his star football days—and his status as the big man on campus—were behind him. By the next semester, Su Ling and Ms. Armstrong’s other Amazonian students had muscled out all the boys at that college in each and every sport.

Yes, thanks to Ms. Armstrong’s Gender Studies, the female student body was able to add pounds and pounds of rock-hard muscle and transform into hard-bodied Amazons. And so, the female student body took over in sports, gender politics, and every way a woman could... academics, sports, leadership. The lesson was simple: anything the boys could do, the girls could do better—and they did just that.

And while Jake learned that lesson all too well, he would also become part of the curriculum and the actual lessons found in Ms. Armstrong’s class and lectures. For the boys of the college and beyond, his name—and his story—wouldn’t just be a cautionary tale. It would be immortalized in Gender Studies forever as Jake’s Big Lesson… And in his little way, the former big man on campus would forever be remembered—only he wishes he wasn’t, as that’s not the kind of infamy he wanted.