THE MARBLE STATUE BOY

This is a story based on a collection of actual events that occurred during different times in my schooling. While none of the events had occurred precisely in the order that I have written them; they never-the-less occurred to a certain extent with some embellishments to make the story sound better.

I was in the eleventh grade, attending a huge (4000+ student) private high school. It was a boy’s only school, known for an excellent athletic program that was considered an important prerequisite for many colleges, if one wanted to go to one on an athletic scholarship. As always before the start of school during pre-registration, the students were sorted out by the athletic coaches as to athletic ability, size, weight and height; and this determined not only the student’s chances to land a prize spot on a team, but also to determine the group (academic track) of students that you went to school with throughout the year as well. This was not meant as a form of discrimination, but simply as a way to use the school’s athletic department resources the most efficiently. For example, the ninth grader boys practiced their various specialty sports during the morning, the ten graders mid-morning, the eleventh graders early afternoon and the seniors late afternoon. This allowed the maximum use of the weight room for the wrestlers, football players, basketball players and tract sports – allowing each athletic age group access all hours of the day. Because attendance was mandatory for all to go to a standard P.E. class, irrespective of whether one was a member of a sport or not… the younger athletic boys would attend P.E. at the same time in the afternoon as the non-athletic older boys; and the athletic older boys would attend P.E. in the morning at the same time as the non-athletic younger boys. We all shared the same giant locker room which was remarkable in the fact that it was over a city block long, but maybe only 50 feet wide, running alongside the huge gymnasium. Although the locker areas were semi-divided, we all had a common shower and hall that ran along it for quite a ways end to end. The mix of older and younger guys, non-athletic and athletic proved to be quite interesting.

I was in the former group (the non-athletic). All of the guys in my eleventh grade P.E. class were decidedly scrawny, which in a way made me feel at home for the first time in P.E.! Although I only weighed at 105 pounds, standing 5 foot 8; my weight was merely average for the class! In fact the heaviest guy only weighed 135 pounds and I think he was mistakenly placed in our class for he was a full 10 pounds heavier than the next heaviest guy (his name was Ken). Our P.E. coach was Mr. Weldon (the name has been changed). He was miserable man. He was in charge of the football program, which was the most prestigious program in the school but he like the other coaches had to take their turn managing other tasks such as teaching math, and teaching P.E. to the non-athletes. He was a big bear of a man, weighing nearly 300 pounds, but not fat, for he also was a muscular 6 foot 5 in height. He had freckled skin that was scarred by long hours coaching outside in the sun. He had fire-red hair, cut in a crew cut that made him look like a tough old boxer (he actually was one in the Marines during the Korean War). He had a decidedly sadistic streak running through him. Even when other athletic facilities were available, he invariably had us wrestle, for there was an over abundance of wrestling mats and it probably was easier for him to manage a class of 60 wimps indoors than with other sports as he had no coaching assistants. During that year I BET WE SPENT 6 MONTHS WRESTLING!!!

Part of his sadism was that frequently he would have us wrestle as a group against the more powerfully built and athletic 9th graders who shared the same time period. When they were not using the weight room (the athletes had special privalaged access), or playing tennis, swimming or doing something different… our coach would treat them to TEAM wrestling against the wimpy 11th graders. The way TEAM wrestling worked was that one team would remove its shirts and wrestle the players of the opposite team, all at the same time. One opponent was pulled out when he was pinned or forced, pushed or carried off the mat. When the numbers of players start to be decimated on one team or the other, the remaining players of the winning team were allowed to join together, to double or triple up in removing the remaining players from the opposite, or to pin them. To even things up, our coach – when he felt merciful – a condition which was rare – would pull some of the players from the opposite team or add players from another P.E. class to give us a fighting chance. The freshmen 9th graders with their shirts off were an imposing, muscular sight and we virtually never won, even when the odds were altered to be in our favor. As a wrestling variation, t the coach occasional as an additional element of playful meanness would have a muscular freshman, maybe from the wrestling team remove his white tee shirt and it would be tied around his head so that he would be blind-folded and do the likewise with one of us. The two players would be spun around, to disorient them and the two P.E. classes would sit around the edge of the mat to watch and guide the two players towards each other yelling, “you’re getting hot”, or “you’re getting cold”. When the players touched each other they would throw off their blindfolds (shirts) and wrestle until a pin occurred. Because of our non-athleticism the coach sometimes would call in another player to help the smaller team player have a chance with two boys wrestling against one. Fortunately that didn’t happen too often as the freshman varsity players athletic education was considered too important to waste on us.

Our coach frequently berated us as being non-athletic wimps, ‘sad excuses for human beings’ and he boasted that his 5 year old son had bigger muscles than any of us and that they were more defined, so defined that he was using him as a posing model in the art class the following week; and that he was thinking of having him to come over to our P.E. class afterwards, during the breaks to ‘teach us a thing or two about muscles’. This made me very curious for he had mentioned that he weighed more than any of us and that he was even taller than many of us!

On Monday the 11 AM art class was indeed very interesting. We were studying the human body, in fact we had to be able to identify about 30 different bones, and about 45 different muscle groups as part of our class in addition to the art sculpturing that we had to do. The prior week, the teacher of the class, Miss Miller, had approached me to pose in the class… because I was so skinny that my bone structure was quite apparent and it would be easy for the class members to identify many of the bones on my body. Having heard that it was common to pose in the nude, in some art classes, I was concerned about having myself exposing myself; but my teacher assured me that I would be wearing a discrete loin cloth, that my buttocks would be exposed yes, but my privates would be just covered. And she added, there will be another guest poser that would be posing in all of the classes the next two and one half weeks, to keep me company, for they needed someone that could also show the muscles needed for the class to identify as well. The idea was for the students of the class to look at the muscular model and identify the muscles, then go over to me and look at my bones (bony figure) to see where they (the muscles) would then be attached (to the bones). Well at that time I jumped at the opportunity of participating as it would get me out of all of my classes (except unfortunately P.E. for that was mandatory and could not be made up). After hearing my coach Mr. Weldon making his boast about his son and that he would be a model in the art class, I put two and two together and realized THAT HE WAS THE MUSCLE MODEL!

I had changed into my loin cloth in the bathroom and true to my art teacher’s word, it was just large enough to cover my privates with just a thin string around my waist and up behind the butt to hold it in place and then I entered the fully mirrored art room wearing a robe completely covering my figure. The art teacher sternly admonished the class members not to deride or jeer or to tease; but that the human body was a beautiful thing whether muscular or thin, fat or weak, young or old. We were instructed that we could ooo and awe in admiration, but otherwise we were to be like professional artists. Then the five year old son was led in by his mom.

This kid was dressed like a typical 5 year old. He wore really baggy overall jeans, a baggy red and white stripped turtle-neck shirt, a man-sized green baseball cap that sat on a large head covered with a thick mop of curly red hair, just like his father’s in color but it was curly. And just like his father, he had pronounced freckles on his nose and cheeks. This kid had an assertive, like “I am something special”, manner about him. He walked tall, and he was tall, I’d say about 5’2” tall – which was about 3 inches taller than I was in the 7th grade, four years earlier! With his thick bushy hair and the baseball cap on top of it he looked much taller, maybe in appearance 5’6”, than he actually was. Now I was most curious how muscular my co-poser was going to be and I looked at him carefully, trying to figure that part out.. His face looked quite muscular, he had a very thick neck, and very tapered shoulders that slanted down more than a 45 degree angle; and his hands which were held as closed fists seemed to be very large, like a couple of small hams in size. But his clothes were very baggy and completely concealed his anatomy otherwise.

THE UNVEILING

I had half expected for the young boy to first go into the bathroom to change, but apparently he was already dressed for the pose underneath. With us both on the same platform – it was a large sometimes slowly rotating (motorized) device, elevated in the air slightly – I removed my robe and the kid his pants and shirt (but not his cap) and we were placed facing each other so that the rear of our bodies could be exposed to the audience of art students (all others were strictly locked out). There was a collective gasp!!!

There was no way I could be prepared for the sight of this muscle kid. The only way to begin to describe this kid is that he looked like Michelangelo’s King David, a muscular marble statue of King David when he was about 17 years old. But to me this kid looked even far more muscular and I could see why that he was chosen as the muscle model. He had absolutely no body fat, his muscles were extraordinarily large and perfect In proportion, his striations and tendons and vascular veins were all completely transparent and out in the open for all to see. Except for his slightly freckled face, his taunt-thin skin otherwise was that of a semi-translucent and nearly marble white in color. What was most amazing was that though he was a young 5 year old boy, he was a muscle man in every way. His biceps had triple peaks that when flexed, erupted to extreme proportions with them bulging more in height than his arm was long from the shoulder to elbow in length! The triceps underneath were just as awesome, swooping-bulging way down and connected to the most massive lats that one has ever seen on a kid. I was bony, everyone could see my bones, but on this kid it was as if he had no bones, with muscle covering every inch of his body as a powerful mantle. His forearms with intensely striated and rippled with even slight movements of his muscular fingers and hands. Even his hands were noteworthy with a powerful musculature and mini-biceps and sinuous tendons that bulged under each finger. His cantaloupe-sized deltoids (shoulder muscles) were deeply striated, and so deeply striated that during the two week long class that while a student was identifying muscles on his body, the kid flexed his deltoid at the moment that the student’s finger was in the furrow, catching it! …the student had to beg the kid to let him go!

With the smaller dimensions of this boy’s loin cloth, he was striking, as he was virtually naked! His gluteus maximus (the butt muscle) was most extraordinary! I have always admired this muscle, the largest muscle in the body, but his was large even in proportion to his other large muscles and had fine striations, deep valleys and tremendous raised veins. The butt muscles I say were much bigger than all of guys in the 11 AM wimp class and probably had at least 3 or 4 times more muscularity than I did! The quads were massive, bulging in thick, swollen and rope-like strands. I saw in the mirror utterly massive back muscles that in themselves would have rivaled my thighs (except for they were attached to his back), individually in size! And his pecs were enormous, like large round, yet striated concave frying pans (and just as hard). His abs were also out in plain view with all eight of them, yes he had an eight pack, exposed. And this was not a case of early puberty, he had no body hair, he was definitely a kid born before the age of steroids.

The instructor (Miss Miller) had us stand very close together loin cloth to loin cloth, chest to chest at first… not just to compare our physics but also so the students could begin identifying body parts. They would go up to touch, identify the muscles as the instructor called them out, then to point to where they were attached to the bones (my muscles and even my flab didn’t conceal much!). This whole episode in my life lasted 12 days in class, or about 2 ½ weeks; and by the end of that time, I think I had almost every strand of muscle memorized on that kid. That room was kept warm, to keep us warm in all of our nakedness; but I felt too warm as this muscle kid was constantly against my front, and side to side my backside (with butt to butt). And I tell you with his legs about the same length as mine, I felt every striation and vein touching my backside as well.

Some of the guys who had gasped initially at the extraordinary build of this kid, after getting over their shock, started asking questions like, “how much do you weigh?”, “how much can you lift?”, “have you ever beaten up somebody?”, “have you beaten up a man?”. The art teacher admonished all of the class for asking these questions… but we all were about to find out the answers in the very next class after lunch!!!

MUSCLE BOY WHIPS WIMPS

The same day that I had my first posing in the art class, I had to go to P.E. at 1 PM in the afternoon, after lunch period. We collectively found out that as usual we were to wrestle in the gym, which meant we didn’t have to put on our shoes or socks as they would mar the gym floor and weren’t allowed on the wrestling mats. We were told that we would be TEAM blindfold wresting; and we would be wrestling each other (not the 9th graders); but he would introduce a surprise that ‘teach us a thing or two about muscles’ in the middle of class. Now I and the art students that were there knew that the surprise was very likely to be the muscular 5 year old that we had seen in the art class but as a mutual conspiracy, we all decided to keep this as a secret from the rest of the class (guys who were in band and shop mechanics instead).

The coach had us remove all of our shirts, leaving us just wearing our red shorts and then called for his son to come in. When he came in, he was wearing the same baggy overalls, long sleeved turtle neck shirt… and the same loin cloth underneath (we found out later!). He mentioned that this was his 5 year old son, that this is the one that was to ‘teach us a thing or two about muscles’. The boy who already had quite a superior contemptible attitude in art class, now really had a sneering look about him, probably after seeing our un-muscular bodies (he was very serious for a kid and took after his dad in more ways then one).

The largest, strongest guy (again his name was Ken) in our class was asked to test his strength against this muscle kid. Now as I do say, I think it was a mistake for this guy to be in our class when they were sorting out the wimps from the not so wimps at the beginning of the school year. This was the one guy who actually had some muscles. At 135 pounds and 5’8” in height, Ken wasn’t exactly a muscle man, but compared to us light-weights (with some of us going down to as light as 76 pounds and 4’6” in height, he was a monster and our most muscular representative. The coach already in the past, when we were waiting for a room to open at the beginning of the school year, had us arm wrestle and leg wrestle to determine who was the strongest and this guy Ken had beaten us winning all the competitions. We even had a non-bodybuilding contest and had determined that this guy had the biggest muscles. One thing: this guy took shop class and happened to know nothing of this kid posing in art class, so he didn’t know what he was getting into.

An impromptu arm and leg strength match was set up between the two; but the 16 year old student was no match for the strong 5 year old at all. Arm wrestling was set up on the floor between the two of them; but it was a farce with the kid easily muscling down each arm – even though the older boy was trying to cheat by moving his elbow, by jumping the whistle. The leg strength contest was pitifully lopsided. There happened to be a portable spring-dial scale in the room and the coach had the contestants squeeze the scale between their thighs to see who could squeeze the hardest. Ken, the 135 pound student was able to get it up t a respectable (for a thin student) 150 pounds; but the kid when he had his turn, brought it up way past the maximum setting of the scale (which was 250 pounds) and it rotated about a full ½ turn further at an estimated 350 pounds (more than twice what the older guy could do!).

The older student exclaimed, “What kind of muscles does he have?”. The coach replied, lets show him and the rest of the class. So the 5 year old peeled off his clothes again, only wearing his loin cloth and did a bodybuilding demonstration. The coach had the older stand back to back with this muscle child to show the obvious superiority of his boy’s muscles and had them both get on a different scale (the portable scale was pretty much thrashed by now by the boy’s leg press and was not working right!) and the 5 year old was found to weigh 7 more pounds than the heaviest student in the class, at 142 pounds.

Mr. Weldon (the coach) had his son slip on a pair of Speedos from the locker room as he didn’t have boxers to wrestle in – and he said that when one of us is blind-folded that he was going to substitute his son; but as a surprise without any warning. That was how our sadistic coach operated, he often got a pleasure watching unequally matched or different aged guys wrestling; and had done this before with the 9th graders and us. What he did was when two opponents were about to wrestle he would tap on one of them and substitute a different one while the other was still blindfolded. The new opponent was also blindfolded and would be brought in from a different room so he also had no idea who he was wrestling. So it was to be a complete surprise as to whom would be the victim.

When it was my turn to wrestle, my white tee-shirt was firmly tied around my eyes so I could not see. I was turned around about 3 or 4 times to disorient me and I depended upon the students around me to guide me towards my opponent. They were strangely quiet (for in the event of the coach’s son wrestling one no one was to reveal with the penalty of a 1000 laps around the school grounds, who he was wrestling), so I got nervously suspicious that I was to be the sacrifice for the class against this muscle boy!

Finally after 2 minutes or so, stumbling across the mat, I ran into this kid (and feeling his powerful muscles instantly I realized I was doomed!). He had moved first by grabbing me by the waist with his strong hands and amazingly I found my whole body weight being curled by this kid and as I was pulling my blindfold off, I found myself looking down at this muscle kid for he had pressed me completely overhead! The vista was surreal. The boy’s thick torso was below me as I looked down and his powerful deltoids were even more shredded than they were in art class. And it was an interesting way to see a most-muscular pose for as this kid was looking up at me, you could see that his neck was well thicker than a even a relatively muscular man’s thigh with garden hose veins and tapered muscles that blended into his shoulders. I also noticed his butt flexing the loose fabric of his Speedos, upward exposing both sides of his muscular butt and in the distance, two muscular thighs that bulged like two volley balls. After pressing me up and down a few times… no problem for a powerfully muscled boy with a 37 pound weight advantage, he than putting me down but not all of the way down, he simply threw me over one of his shoulders and waited… looking towards his dad. The coach called for the second strongest boy in our class a 5’5, 125 pounder and motioned him in to help me against this boy. The somewhat frightened new opponent tried to pull the boy down from the front; but remarkably with him holding me by one arm, he grabbed the other guy by the waist and lifted him too up on the other shoulder, carrying us both helplessly at the same time. The rules were different when two guys wrestled against one guy… although pinning was allowed, submission holds were also allowed and BOTH guys had to submit for the wrestle to be over.

The muscle kid who had been holding us over each shoulder, transferred his grip and pressed us together back to back in front of him… still lifting us both off the floor. He then squeezed a mighty squeeze with his hands locked around our collective waists, squeezing both of us so long that neither one of use could feel our legs as he had cut off any source of blood supply to them. I was thinking that he must be squeezing with his maximum effort when he not getting a surrender response from us gave us a death grip. I at least felt myself stopping to breathe as he was pressing my abdominal contents up into my diaphragm. I passed out! My slightly more muscular fellow wrestling buddy was supposed to have been screaming in agony but I don’t remember hearing it.

On the way to the locker room at the end of the first class, this muscle boy was walking along side of me and actually was nice to me asking if I was alright. He then said, “ You want to see a trick, I can do it to my little brother who is heavier than you.” The other guys gathered around in a semi-circle thinking it was another strength demonstration and watched to see what would happen. The muscular kid had me stand next to the concrete cinderblock wall placing just my left hip firmly against the wall. He said, “Just stand still and I will do the rest.” Then in perhaps the most incredible display of strength I have ever seen, especially with someone so young… standing on tippy toes, he backed his muscular butt, still clad with loose fitting Speedos, just above my waist onto my right side firmly. Then clamping his powerful butt muscles around my skinny torso, he leaned forward, lifting ME to the right completely off the ground. He did this just using his powerful butt muscles!!!

For approximately the next two and ½ weeks this muscle, statue-like kid impressed the art class and terrorized the P.E. class. The P.E. class was terrorized for at one point or another he had all of the students in what I call the wimp class, humiliated in one way or another with his strength and wrestling abilities. One time he was placed against the lightest guy, a 76 pound student who was only 4’6” tall. The boy actually for his size was a pretty good wrestler but at barely half the boy’s weight, the younger kid had a field day playing around with him… pumping him up and down and even at one point holding him over his head with one hand.

An interesting post-script: during one of the last days of art class, this kid walked to lunch with us to meet his dad. It was a warm, sunny day so instead of his usual outfit, he was wearing a muscle shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts and a pair of sun glasses (which in the 1970’s were definitely NOT in!). A 6’11” tall macho basketball player, wearing his letterman, leather jacket was walking by the walkway as he was being told by one of the students that this boy had posed nude in art class. This guy had a reputation for bullying the non-athletic boys calling them nerds, fags or narcs. Thinking that this was a high school student as the youthful face was camouflaged by the sun glasses, he called the boy a fag and teased him rudely. The young kid, who happened to have some martial arts training, lunged up at the guy, put him in a choke hold and at the same time wrapped his muscular legs around his waist. The older boy tried to spin him off but instead ended up collapsing into the grass where letting go, the young kid threw just two meaty punches and knocked the guy out! Since he was the coach’s son, it was the bully basketball player that got suspended for picking a fight.