"Mikey, Jeremy, are you fellows there, this is Superman, Clark told me all about this challenge you have for me, well I accept!”
Good, he’s finally here. I can’t wait for this match, I know Mikey is incredibly strong, I saw him break a big boulder into a million pieces with a very small amount of power, than he spent the rest of the afternoon crushing the pieces into dust. He imploded a building with his bare hands.
“Superman, I’m Jeremy, I’m in the backyard, come on back, Mikey’s inside getting ready for you. Hey, where’s Clark, I thought he’d be here to be a witness to this.”
“Yes, well, unfortunately Clark came down with something last night, he’s been sick all day. So you can be our witness Jeremy, you have a camera?”
“Oh yes, Master, I mean Mikey has me take shots of him doing all kinds of poses and strength feats, to record his progress, it seems like he grows 10 pounds of muscle heavier by the week. He turned 4 years old 3 days ago, and he looked probably 50 pounds bigger than the day I met him, he’s just a genetic freak! In a good way, I mean.”
“That’s incredible, but Mikey is still human, I’m from a planet called Krypton, I would say that I’m about 10,000 times stronger than a normal human, even stronger sometimes depending on my proximity to the yellow sun in this solar system.”
I laughed, “I know, I think we’ve all read and seen some of your life story, Superman, I’ve been a big fan myself for a while, but the stuff I’ve seen Mikey do, I think you may have met your match. His strength and muscle size are incredible, especially for such a young boy, and his brains, wow, you thought Lex Luthor was smart, Mikey makes him look like a complete idiot. His IQ is so high, I don’t think there’s ever been anything like it in the World, damn, I mean he went out and proved both Einstein’s theory of relativity and Stephen Hawking’s space expansion theory incorrect, at just 3 years old. I heard that he sped read the Bible and remembered every word in it precisely, then spent the next two hours translating it into 4 different languages by memory alone.”
“Wow, that is incredible intellect, if it is true that he has done all that, has he proven it to you, though, or have you just believed a story that he may have told you? The same could be said for his strength, how can you be so sure that it was he that imploded the building, it sounds like a sham to me.”
“I have seen him demonstrate some of his strength first hand, believe me when I say, when you see a 6’8, 380 pound muscular man lose an arm wrestling match, using both arms against an index finger, you don’t soon forget it. Not to mention the rock he turned completely to dust with his bare hands.”
“I see, well, I’ll have to wait and see for myself, Jeremy. Ah, here he comes.”
Mikey comes out of the house wearing a grey sweatshirt and sweatpants. He was carrying his brother, Tyler, on his shoulders. The height difference was quite apparent, Tyler’s feet were nearly touching the ground, but the muscle size, it was incredible to see that Mikey’s shoulders were an inch or two wider on each side than Tyler’s, despite the fact that Tyler was 3 feet 8 inches taller than Mikey! Don’t know how much Mikey weighs this week, but I know the last time I measured, his shoulders were 3 feet 2 inches across, that’s two inches bigger than his height, but of course, that was a week ago, for all I know, Mikey could have added inches onto that measure.
“Ah, I see Big Blue is here. Well, its good to see you didn’t chicken out from a real challenge. Well, maybe you will after you see this.”
Mikey started flexing his muscles, the sweatshirt, which was drum tight before the flex started blasting stitches here and there, first the sleeves went when the huge biceps started splitting into their jagged, diamond hard peaks. Then the neck started going when his traps started moving unceasingly towards his earlobes, his pecs pushed outwards causing his shirt to rip down the sides, until he was standing topless in front of us.
“Oh God.” came out of my mouth without me even thinking. His 8 pack abs stood out at least 2 inches now, his pecs 7 inches over that, and his shoulders were doing their best imitations of pumpkins. Really, really large pumpkins. Then the pants started to rip along the seems themselves. Mikey was wearing nothing but a posing strap underneath his shirt, he started doing a posing show for Superman, who from the first sight of Mikey was speechless.
“Okay, do you still want to go against this, or do you want to concede to me right now? All you have to do is bow down and worship me as your God and I won’t have to beat you up, what’s the verdict, Big Blue Wimp, fight or wimp out?”
Superman finally found his voice. “Umm, you’re obviously very muscular, but as you probably know, I’m the strongest man in the Universe, I bow to no one.”
“Well, you can remain the strongest man in the Universe, because I’m the strongest human being that has ever existed in the history of the World, and I will prove that to you. So, how do you want to do this?”
“Well, let’s armwrestle, I hear you had your brother armwrestle you, and he had to use both hands against your pinky, well, I think you’ll find a much more even match this time, if you’re up to it.”
“Okay, sure thing, big wimp, do you want the same advantages that he got?”
“No, I don’t think I’ll need them.”
“We’ll see about that, Super Geek, hey, tell me something, are you and Clark Kent related, you look a lot like him.”
“Um, no absolutely not, me and Clark Kent are not at all related, we’re just good friends from all the reporting he does on my adventures.”
There was a twinkle in Mikey’s eye that made me think he didn’t believe Superman at all, but he quickly dismissed this and got on the ground with his arm in arm wrestling position. Superman got down on his stomach and said, “Don’t you want something to prop your arm up on? That would make it much more fair.”
“Nah, that’s alright, I like to give my opponent every advantage I can, I wouldn’t want you to feel that I may have gotten unfair advantage of you.”
“But, that’s exactly what I mean, with us arm wrestling like this, I have all the leverage and height, your chances of success would be cut down by 25 percent.”
“27.95 percent to be exact, but that’s okay, you’re gonna need all the help you’re going to get, Big Blue Dork. Quit being the boy scout and let’s lock hands, or are you scared?”
“As you wish, just don’t complain that I didn’t give you a fair shot when I drive your hand down to the ground.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be completely fine, though you may not be. Fatboy, count us down!”
I took a deep breath. “Superman, are you ready?”
He nodded at me.
“Master, are you ready?”
“Yeah, I’m ready, time to beat the Strongest Man in the Universe with my powerful muscles.”
“Okay, on three, 1...2...3 go!”
Superman’s hand looked to be huge compared to Mikey’s, but it appeared that he was grimacing slightly, and the fingers of Mikey’s hand looked to dig into his hands. Superman started pushing, first with hardly any power, then when he didn’t see any noticeable improvement, half of his power. Still, Mikey’s hand didn’t seem to be moving at all. Superman couldn’t believe it, he had beaten many super villains with this level of power, but the little, though massively muscular 4 year old across from him didn’t seem to notice his strength. Superman’s attention was drawn to Mikey’s face when Mikey cleared his throat a little. What he saw shocked him to no end. Mikey looked positively bored, he appeared to be looking at the fingernails of his other hand, as though nothing was pushing against his other hand at all. Superman started pushing with all his strength, he gritted his teeth, pouring on all the power he could muster.
“That’s it, Big Blue, give it your all, you know, something, I can actually feel you now. Unfortunately, your power has its limits, while I haven’t even begun to reach mine, go on, Mr. Big Stuff, use both arms, I know you’re dying to test your body’s strength against my single arm, not that it will help you any.”
Superman couldn’t believe his ears, the boy was just so cocky, so confident, and so right, he added his left arm to the equation, hoping that it would cause him to finally beat the arrogant 4 year old, though it was clear that if the World saw him now, the most powerful Superhero in the Universe struggling to even move the single arm of a 4 year old boy, no matter how muscular with both of his, and not even succeeding, he would be humiliated, he would be forced into hiding from shame. But just that was happening, even both of his 22 inch arms couldn’t begin to move Mikey’s rock solid right arm…which happened to be the weaker of the boy’s arm.
“Aww, is that it? I always thought you were supposed to be the strongest man in the Universe, how does it feel to be overpowered by a 4 year old boy with such ease?” As he said this, Mikey slowly, though steadily moved Superman’s arms down to the ground.
Just then a ringing klaxon started going off, it was so loud, but Superman’s eyes immediately lit up with recognition.
“Mikey, we have to stop this, don’t you know what that is?”
“No, Supes, what is it? All I know is it is annoying the hell out of me.”
“That’s the alien invasion alarm, that means that right now a force of aliens are trying to invade the Earth and they need the World’s most powerful superheroes to defend the Earth, they need me to help, you have to release me and let me try to save the Earth! I‘m the strongest of Earth‘s heroes, if anyone can possibly defend the Earth‘s its me.”
“Hahaha, and yet, you’re the one losing in this direct contest of strength, I’m at least twice as strong as you are, if not possibly much more so. Admit to that, admit that I’m much stronger than you, that I’m your master and you’re my slave, and I’ll let you go.”
“I couldn’t possibly do that, I’m the hero of Earth, I can’t be the slave of a 4 year old boy, no matter how strong he is.”
“Do you want me to prove it to the World? I will. I’ll let you go out there in public, then proceed to beat you in front of the whole World. But here, its you, me, Fatty and Muscle Wimp, only us 4 will need to know that you’re a weakling compared to a 4 year old, only us 4 will be here to hear your confession, and I know that none of us will say anything about it. Just bow down, kiss my feet, right now and you’ll never have to worry about the truth getting out. And you better do it quick, those alarms seem to be getting more urgent.”
“Oh, alright, I’ll do it, but know this, I’m doing this more for the people of Earth than to be subservient to you. You are my master, I am your slave.” As he said this, Superman got up into a kneeling position and waited for Mikey to present his big, muscular feet. He bent down and lightly pecked one. He then got up and was just about to fly to the rescue when he realized he wasn’t going anywhere, his momentum had been stopped before it got started.
“Oh no, you’re not going like that, I want you to really kiss my feet, both of them, don’t just bend down and give them a little peck, I want to feel your lips and your tongue worship them, like they deserve.”
Superman gave a sigh, he got on his hands and knees and started to kiss and lick each foot, knowing resistance would be futile, Mikey is much, much stronger than him, his reactions are super fast, even putting Superman’s own super senses to shame. When he felt he had done satisfactorily, he looked up at Mikey’s face, which was buried to his vision under a great shelf of pectoral muscles. He rose up higher, kneeling chest to bigger chest.
“Go, now, Superman, save the World, and if you need any help in doing so, just say the words “Help Me, Master, and I’ll be there in a wink of an eye.”
Superman nodded, he got up and shouted, “Up, up and Away!” And sped off towards where the klaxons were ringing. But his thoughts were barely on the job at hand, his mind was going back and replaying the last 20 minutes of his life again and again. He wondered just how strong Mikey was, how easily he could do all the jobs that Superman was responsible for, he thought on Mikey’s superior physique and wondered how big Mikey could eventually become. Finally, he wondered if being Mikey’s slave was going to be that bad after all?
The End
Saturday, 15 October 2011
My New Step-Brother
CHAPTER ONE:
My dad had remarried seven years after my mom had died. It was his new wife’s third marriage. While they were away on an extended honeymoon/business trip I was asked to come to his new home to house sit for a few months…..I was to also watch my new 10 year old step-brother whom I hadn’t met yet…I didn’t object, I needed to get away and dad was paying me a lot of money house sit.
I arrived at the airport and was met by my other stepbrother from my new mom’s first marriage. His name was Keith whom I had met previously at the wedding. He was a very handsome guy with the frat jock look about him. I was amazed at how easily he lifted my two suitcases in the air and carried them so easily. While he was walking swiftly in front of me, I did my best to keep up with him….it was then that I noticed his huge muscular calf muscles and an ass that made me want to jump him right there in the airport. His shoulders were so wide that it looked like he couldn’t fit through the sliding doors of the airport. I guessed that his height had to be at least 6”3” with a weight of solid muscle over 225 pounds.
On the way to the house I found out that Keith was a jock and plays football in college. He had quite a sports future ahead of him but he wanted to work at his mother’s nutrition business. Keith filled me in on the details of the community and what was what, etc. I felt we really bonded on the ride. He did make a comment though that took me by surprise.
“So for a dude your age, you sure are skinny and out of shape. Looking at your dad I expected so much more from you. You must have taken after your mom’s side of the family”
That was true, whereas my father was robust and what is referred to as a hunk (all my friends always wanted to date my dad when they met him or always ask if he was home) and that was probably why Keith’s mother married him.
“So you’re going to get the pleasure of watching my little brother Jason this summer huh? He can be quite a handful” Keith snickered as he gave me a strange look.
“What do you mean? How bad can a 10 year old be?” I inquired.
“Oh you’ll see….you’ll see.” Keith pulled into the driveway but didn’t get out of the car. “Listen, I have to head back to the university. I’m taking a vacation before school starts back up. Don’t forget to bring Jason up for the weekend ….he knows he’s coming and he really looks forward to it. I’ll email you the dates and all the info. If you have any problems, do not, I repeat do not call me. You have to deal with Jason on your own. Just humor him and you two will get along fine.”
I got out of the car not knowing what in the hell Keith was talking about.
“Just do as he says and everything will be ok. Just remember that he likes to be in charge.” Keith yelled out from the car as he sped away.
I stood there….totally dumbfounded over what he was talking about. After fumbling with the house keys he gave me, I finally got the door open. Dragging my bags in the house I looked for Jason but saw no one.
It was a gorgeous house with all the right amenities. I put my bags down and decided to walk around the house and yard. Through the dining room I noticed an incredible back yard….well landscaped and with a beautiful in-ground pool and hot tub. That is something that I would take advantage of later on I thought to myself.
I carried my one bag upstairs to the guest bedroom (my dad told me which one it was) and came back downstairs to get my other bag. Not noticing how out of shape I was, I seemed a bit tired from lugging two suitcases up the stairs.
“Jason….Jason! Are you here?!” I yelled out.
Walking around the house, room to room I looked for my step-brother but couldn’t find him anywhere so I decided to make myself a drink and get into the hot tub.
As I relaxed in the hot tub, the alcohol seemed to take over and I was very, very relaxed. Time passed and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Then something happened……
I suddenly felt an iron vice wrap around my skull, crushing my head. I reached up to grab whatever was grabbing at my head for some relief. Then, I felt my body being lifted from the hot tub and onto the tiles around the pool area.
My face was turning red and I was slowly starting to lose consciences. Just as quickly as the vice wrapped around my head, I felt it release. I started to cough while trying to gather air at the same time when suddenly I felt my body being shoved backwards. Before I knew it I felt a marble column wrap around my neck like in a figure four move. My hands reached upwards trying to budge the marble, but it wouldn’t move. What my hands did feel was soft, like velvet human skin, but it was harder underneath than any substance I had ever known.
I was becoming lightheaded as I looked up at the sky. Behind me I heard giggling…then the marbled tightened up….I thought I heard blood running through the hard marble…that was the last sound I heard before I passed out.
“It’s about time you woke up wimp…..you had me scared!”
END OF CHAPTER ONE
I arrived at the airport and was met by my other stepbrother from my new mom’s first marriage. His name was Keith whom I had met previously at the wedding. He was a very handsome guy with the frat jock look about him. I was amazed at how easily he lifted my two suitcases in the air and carried them so easily. While he was walking swiftly in front of me, I did my best to keep up with him….it was then that I noticed his huge muscular calf muscles and an ass that made me want to jump him right there in the airport. His shoulders were so wide that it looked like he couldn’t fit through the sliding doors of the airport. I guessed that his height had to be at least 6”3” with a weight of solid muscle over 225 pounds.
On the way to the house I found out that Keith was a jock and plays football in college. He had quite a sports future ahead of him but he wanted to work at his mother’s nutrition business. Keith filled me in on the details of the community and what was what, etc. I felt we really bonded on the ride. He did make a comment though that took me by surprise.
“So for a dude your age, you sure are skinny and out of shape. Looking at your dad I expected so much more from you. You must have taken after your mom’s side of the family”
That was true, whereas my father was robust and what is referred to as a hunk (all my friends always wanted to date my dad when they met him or always ask if he was home) and that was probably why Keith’s mother married him.
“So you’re going to get the pleasure of watching my little brother Jason this summer huh? He can be quite a handful” Keith snickered as he gave me a strange look.
“What do you mean? How bad can a 10 year old be?” I inquired.
“Oh you’ll see….you’ll see.” Keith pulled into the driveway but didn’t get out of the car. “Listen, I have to head back to the university. I’m taking a vacation before school starts back up. Don’t forget to bring Jason up for the weekend ….he knows he’s coming and he really looks forward to it. I’ll email you the dates and all the info. If you have any problems, do not, I repeat do not call me. You have to deal with Jason on your own. Just humor him and you two will get along fine.”
I got out of the car not knowing what in the hell Keith was talking about.
“Just do as he says and everything will be ok. Just remember that he likes to be in charge.” Keith yelled out from the car as he sped away.
I stood there….totally dumbfounded over what he was talking about. After fumbling with the house keys he gave me, I finally got the door open. Dragging my bags in the house I looked for Jason but saw no one.
It was a gorgeous house with all the right amenities. I put my bags down and decided to walk around the house and yard. Through the dining room I noticed an incredible back yard….well landscaped and with a beautiful in-ground pool and hot tub. That is something that I would take advantage of later on I thought to myself.
I carried my one bag upstairs to the guest bedroom (my dad told me which one it was) and came back downstairs to get my other bag. Not noticing how out of shape I was, I seemed a bit tired from lugging two suitcases up the stairs.
“Jason….Jason! Are you here?!” I yelled out.
Walking around the house, room to room I looked for my step-brother but couldn’t find him anywhere so I decided to make myself a drink and get into the hot tub.
As I relaxed in the hot tub, the alcohol seemed to take over and I was very, very relaxed. Time passed and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Then something happened……
I suddenly felt an iron vice wrap around my skull, crushing my head. I reached up to grab whatever was grabbing at my head for some relief. Then, I felt my body being lifted from the hot tub and onto the tiles around the pool area.
My face was turning red and I was slowly starting to lose consciences. Just as quickly as the vice wrapped around my head, I felt it release. I started to cough while trying to gather air at the same time when suddenly I felt my body being shoved backwards. Before I knew it I felt a marble column wrap around my neck like in a figure four move. My hands reached upwards trying to budge the marble, but it wouldn’t move. What my hands did feel was soft, like velvet human skin, but it was harder underneath than any substance I had ever known.
I was becoming lightheaded as I looked up at the sky. Behind me I heard giggling…then the marbled tightened up….I thought I heard blood running through the hard marble…that was the last sound I heard before I passed out.
“It’s about time you woke up wimp…..you had me scared!”
END OF CHAPTER ONE
The Tiniest Bully part 3
“Sir, I’m back, is it okay that I brought a friend? He says he’s really into muscle and strength on young boys, when I told him about you, he said he just had to meet you.”
“Oh, alright, what’s the name of your friend?”
“Kent, Clark Kent, sir, he’s from a small town in Kansas, originally, but moved to Metropolis to work at the Daily Planet two months ago.”
“Okay, well, tell him to come back here.”
“Clark! He says you can come back!”
So Clark comes into the backyard, acting quite awkwardly, big glasses on, and wearing a sweat-suit. He’s quite big, but somehow looks quite weak and nerdy. Clark walks up to Mikey, who’s still 1 week away from his 4th birthday, and extends his hand. Mikey shakes it with a little bit of his power, Clark winces noticeably.
“Quite a grip there, you have, son!”
“Thanks, Mr. Kent, or should I say geek, yeah, that’s your name from now on, Mr. Wilson there is Fatboy, and you’re Geek from now on. And you will address me as Sir, or Master, that is, if you don’t want to get beat up.”
“I’ll do no such thing, you may be quite muscular and strong, but I’m not going to be your slave or anything like that.”
Mikey laughed out loudly, the out of place belly laugh that you see out of Bluto from Popeye, not out of a 3 year old kid.
“You think you’re tough, huh? Muscle Wimp! Get out here!”
Mikey’s 17 year old brother, Tyler came out of the house, looking as huge as ever, 6‘8, easily 380 pounds of muscle, but he lacked confidence, he was subservient to his own little brother.
“You see that, Geek, that is what used to be the strongest person in his high school, he could bench press 795 pounds, he could curl 330 pounds, he used to dominate on the football field, getting 20 tackles and 6 sacks a game on defense, I broke him over a year ago, when I was only 2 and a half years old. I beat him physically, mentally, and emotionally, he was my first slave. It was so cool to know how strong he was compared to everyone else, but how week he was compared to me. I think the realization set in when I put him over my knees and spanked him, and he couldn’t do a thing to prevent it. Now he does whatever I say. Muscle wimp?”
“Yes, master?”
“Why don’t we show our guests the difference in our strengths, armwrestle me right now, I want you to use both your hands, if you can get my index finger to move a millimeter before I count to 10, I’ll free you from your servitude to me.”
Tyler nodded, unenthusiastically, I’m sure since the roles were reversed, he had tested Mikey’s strength in various ways, and I’m sure each and every single attempt was unsuccessful. They got down on the ground, Mikey didn’t even prop his elbow up on something to make it more fair, Tyler had every advantage in the bout. Mikey said that I should count down to three to start.
“Alright, on three, 1...2...3 go!”
“Come on Muscle Wimp, is that the best you can do, you are trying your hardest, aren’t you, I can barely feel you, you’re not even making me try to keep my index finger straight. 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...3 and a half…2...1...1 and a half…0!”
Mikey slammed both of Tyler’s hands down to the ground with only his index finger, showing a small, small percentage of his overall power while doing so. He got back up and looked at Clark, smirking.
“Well, big man, do you think you can do any better than that?”
Clark was visibly impressed and shaking with what looked like a mix of fear, awe, and lust. He said, “I’m very strong for my size, much, much stronger than I look. I admit, though, that I may have taken your strength for granted, I may have not believed the stories Jeremy told me about you, and for that, I apologize, you are incredibly, incredibly strong.”
“What, that? That was nothing, you know how much strength I was using there? .0005 percent of the power I have in my index finger, I could have taken on a thousand of Tyler and still won with ease.”
“What about Superman, do you think you’re stronger than he is?”
“That big blue wimp? Hell yeah, I’m stronger, there’s not a strength feat he could do that I couldn’t with absolute ease. The only thing that he can do that I can’t is fly, and I don’t need to, the way I can run, I can get anywhere I want to go, I can swim from California to Japan in 3 hours, I can jump for miles at a time. If that wimp showed up, I’d beat him up just like I could beat my brother up, without breaking a sweat.”
Clark laughed, “Really? You actually believe that? I know him, I can arrange a meeting between you two.”
“Sure, bring his big ass on, he’s going to realize that the strongest person in the universe is only 3 years old.”
“You got it, and if you can defeat Superman, then I’ll have no choice but to accept you as my new lord and master.”
“So you and Superman, you’re close huh, since he’s supposed to have Godlike Powers, you accept him as your God. Well, believe me, if anyone on Earth deserves to be worshipped, its me. Set it up, Geek, and get ready to bow down to your new God.”
“Oh, alright, what’s the name of your friend?”
“Kent, Clark Kent, sir, he’s from a small town in Kansas, originally, but moved to Metropolis to work at the Daily Planet two months ago.”
“Okay, well, tell him to come back here.”
“Clark! He says you can come back!”
So Clark comes into the backyard, acting quite awkwardly, big glasses on, and wearing a sweat-suit. He’s quite big, but somehow looks quite weak and nerdy. Clark walks up to Mikey, who’s still 1 week away from his 4th birthday, and extends his hand. Mikey shakes it with a little bit of his power, Clark winces noticeably.
“Quite a grip there, you have, son!”
“Thanks, Mr. Kent, or should I say geek, yeah, that’s your name from now on, Mr. Wilson there is Fatboy, and you’re Geek from now on. And you will address me as Sir, or Master, that is, if you don’t want to get beat up.”
“I’ll do no such thing, you may be quite muscular and strong, but I’m not going to be your slave or anything like that.”
Mikey laughed out loudly, the out of place belly laugh that you see out of Bluto from Popeye, not out of a 3 year old kid.
“You think you’re tough, huh? Muscle Wimp! Get out here!”
Mikey’s 17 year old brother, Tyler came out of the house, looking as huge as ever, 6‘8, easily 380 pounds of muscle, but he lacked confidence, he was subservient to his own little brother.
“You see that, Geek, that is what used to be the strongest person in his high school, he could bench press 795 pounds, he could curl 330 pounds, he used to dominate on the football field, getting 20 tackles and 6 sacks a game on defense, I broke him over a year ago, when I was only 2 and a half years old. I beat him physically, mentally, and emotionally, he was my first slave. It was so cool to know how strong he was compared to everyone else, but how week he was compared to me. I think the realization set in when I put him over my knees and spanked him, and he couldn’t do a thing to prevent it. Now he does whatever I say. Muscle wimp?”
“Yes, master?”
“Why don’t we show our guests the difference in our strengths, armwrestle me right now, I want you to use both your hands, if you can get my index finger to move a millimeter before I count to 10, I’ll free you from your servitude to me.”
Tyler nodded, unenthusiastically, I’m sure since the roles were reversed, he had tested Mikey’s strength in various ways, and I’m sure each and every single attempt was unsuccessful. They got down on the ground, Mikey didn’t even prop his elbow up on something to make it more fair, Tyler had every advantage in the bout. Mikey said that I should count down to three to start.
“Alright, on three, 1...2...3 go!”
“Come on Muscle Wimp, is that the best you can do, you are trying your hardest, aren’t you, I can barely feel you, you’re not even making me try to keep my index finger straight. 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...3 and a half…2...1...1 and a half…0!”
Mikey slammed both of Tyler’s hands down to the ground with only his index finger, showing a small, small percentage of his overall power while doing so. He got back up and looked at Clark, smirking.
“Well, big man, do you think you can do any better than that?”
Clark was visibly impressed and shaking with what looked like a mix of fear, awe, and lust. He said, “I’m very strong for my size, much, much stronger than I look. I admit, though, that I may have taken your strength for granted, I may have not believed the stories Jeremy told me about you, and for that, I apologize, you are incredibly, incredibly strong.”
“What, that? That was nothing, you know how much strength I was using there? .0005 percent of the power I have in my index finger, I could have taken on a thousand of Tyler and still won with ease.”
“What about Superman, do you think you’re stronger than he is?”
“That big blue wimp? Hell yeah, I’m stronger, there’s not a strength feat he could do that I couldn’t with absolute ease. The only thing that he can do that I can’t is fly, and I don’t need to, the way I can run, I can get anywhere I want to go, I can swim from California to Japan in 3 hours, I can jump for miles at a time. If that wimp showed up, I’d beat him up just like I could beat my brother up, without breaking a sweat.”
Clark laughed, “Really? You actually believe that? I know him, I can arrange a meeting between you two.”
“Sure, bring his big ass on, he’s going to realize that the strongest person in the universe is only 3 years old.”
“You got it, and if you can defeat Superman, then I’ll have no choice but to accept you as my new lord and master.”
“So you and Superman, you’re close huh, since he’s supposed to have Godlike Powers, you accept him as your God. Well, believe me, if anyone on Earth deserves to be worshipped, its me. Set it up, Geek, and get ready to bow down to your new God.”
The Tiniest Bully part 2
So I came back the next day, not entirely expecting him to be there, thinking it may have been a dream, I mean meeting a 3 year old with a body that would put most Mr. Olympia competitors to shame, that is strong enough to carry his brother, who weighs 350 pounds of muscle, at least around like a stuffed animal, that’s just not possible, is it?
I walked the same route I did, hoping to see him as I walked, but it wasn’t until I passed his house, slightly disappointed at the fact I didn’t see him, that I heard the all too familiar voice.
“Hey Mister, glad to see you back, do you have my money?”
Yay, I shouted to myself in my head, it was real!
“Yes, sir, I got the 1000 bucks I promised you. What do we do now?”
“I see you didn’t only bring the money, what do you expect to do with those.” He said as he pointed to the bulges of my shirt pockets.
I pulled out a measuring tape, a pair of handcuffs and a digital camera.
“Well, sir, I thought while you and I were together today, you would show me how big your muscles are, how strong you are, and I could take some pictures of you doing some muscle poses.”
He started laughing, not little kid giggles, but bully belly laughs, it was so unreal coming out of such a young boy, only 3 years old. But it went along with the rest of his body, shoulders wider than my own, despite the fact that I stood 2 and a half feet taller than him.
“You thought that, huh? If you didn’t give me a thousand, I would have said you thought wrong, but I guess your money does deserve some sort of show, but you have to promise me some stuff.”
“Okay, like what?”
“Well, first of all, those pictures are only for you and me, no one else gets to see them, if I find out that someone else has seen those, I will come to your house, break down the door and crush the camera to bits, got it?”
“Absolutely, sir. There is no way I would ever let these pictures get around, they’re just for you, and especially for me.”
“What would you use them for, fatty?”
“Sir, I know you’re incredibly smart and bright for your age, but there are things that kids your age couldn’t possibly understand.”
“Oh, I know, you’re going to jack off to them, aren’t ya mister?”
“How do you know about that?”
“How do you think? When my body grew, my intelligence, both emotional and mental grew with my muscles, I found out when I turned 3 years old, my dick started getting hard for no reason, using my advanced intelligence, I looked it up on the internet, and found out all about sex. So nothing is beyond my understanding, in fact, not only am I stronger and more muscular than you’ll ever be, but I’m smarter, too. I can calculate Pi to the thousandth decimal, I can speak in 5 different languages fluently, by the time I was 2 years old I had already read 500 books, not little baby books, I’m talking about novels ranging from 300 pages all the way up to 750 pages. Harry Potter was my first book, at 1 and a half, I finished all 7 books in the series in about 4 months.”
“My goodness, sir. I mean, you’re just about perfect, so muscular, so strong, so mature.”
“Just about perfect? Don’t you mean absolutely perfect, there’s no other person on the planet that has the abilities I have, look at my face, my body, and my intelligence, if I lived in Ancient Greece, the most famous works of art in the World would have been modeled after me.”
“So, if you’re so smart and powerful, why are you just a bully, you could do so much, you could change the World, but you’re only extorting people of their hard-earned money with your body. What’s the story?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“What?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you had limited intelligence. I’m only 3 years old, but I’ll lay it on the line for you, I’m already a self-made millionaire, you think you’re the only one in my harem, I collect money from all over the county, I’m not just an extortionist, I am a construction and deconstruction worker, I’m a one man demolition crew, you know that 40 story tall building that was imploded 2 weeks ago?”
“Y-yeah?”
“They didn’t use dynamite, not unless you call these two fellows T and T.” He said as he flexed his biceps.
“No, no way, you can’t be that strong, they said the destruction was equivalent to a 20 kiloton bomb, you’re saying you did that by yourself?”
“What, you doubt me? I’ll have to show you a small example of my strength in a little while, but first, why don’t you get some shots of a pre-pumped up muscle master.”
I fumbled in my pockets, first for the camera, to take a shot at the inhuman size of this kid’s biceps, if possible, they looked even bigger than yesterday, peaking near the top of his head! He seriously looked like a morphed picture come to life, but he was standing right near in front of me, flesh and bone. Second, I wanted to get my measuring tape to see exactly how big around Little Mikey’s (yeah right!) huge biceps are.
“Get some good pictures, fat boy? Well set the camera down and come over and see how big these muscles really are.”
I put the camera down on a picnic table nearby and took my tape out, I wanted to get measurements of his whole body, I loved to do it from the bottom up, I love pecs and biceps, so I like to save the best for last.
“Well, how big am I?”
“Calves, 19 inches around! That’s awesome. Thighs, 30 inches around, on a kid your size, that’s unreal. Waist, 20 inches, your calves are almost as big around as your waist is! Your chest is incredible, 52 inches of huge muscle, I’ve known grown male bodybuilders who couldn’t crack 50 inches, you’re only 3 years old, imagine how huge your chest will be at 6, it’ll leave any 3 male bodybuilders put together in the dust! Your biceps, Holy Christ! They’re 23 inches around! They’re 3 inches bigger than your waist, I’ve never seen freaky numbers like that!”
“You like that, don’t you? You like how much muscle I’ve built on my body, I can tell you this, I’ve only just begun. If I get a little pump from a workout, I can grow much, much bigger, the problem is, I can’t really get too much of a pump anymore, everything’s just too light.”
He went over to a boulder in the backyard, took it up in his arms and brought it over to me, it was fairly big, about 3 feet across, 3 feet tall, 2 feet thick.
“Try and lift that, chubby.”
I bent down and tried to lift it off the ground, but my back was strained, so I had to quit. I tried to roll it, but I couldn’t get it to move in any way. I kicked it, all I did was hurt my foot.
“How, how much does that thing weigh?”
“Oh, about 700 pounds, I would guess, not that it makes a difference to me, it hasn’t been hard for me to lift since I was 2 and a half, I have tried several times to make it more difficult, one hand, one finger, even my pinky was able to lift it without too much trouble, nothing seems to be able to make me work harder with it, I think it‘s outlived its usefulness.” He picked it up and in one motion lifts the rock over his head, then he sets it down on the top of his head and let go with his hands, his head accepted the weight like he was putting a hat on. He started jumping up and down, dancing all around, like the rock wasn’t even there, then he jumped straight up from the ground, and the rock went up and up and up, it went up 15 feet at least, and then he met the rock with his fist, breaking it into a million little pieces.
“Jesus, that was incredible, could you show me more of your power?”
“Sure, but not today, you’re having a little bit too much fun today, but I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you take one more picture of me, I’m sure you’re going to know what to do with it.”
Then he gave me the most awesome pose I’ve ever seen or heard about, he bent forward in a most muscular pose, and his body just exploded with size, he made the Incredible Hulk look like a 97 pound weakling. His traps were visible, peaking up near his ears, his shoulders, biceps, forearms, and pecs flexed up so huge, I couldn’t help but come in my pants at the sight in front of me. I am not a pedophile, I just love muscle, on anyone, but I never was attracted to any kids, no matter how muscular they appeared. This kid had the kind of muscle that just changed your definition of right and wrong.
I shakily took the photograph, fully realizing that my pants would soon be showing the results and turned around, hoping he wouldn’t notice, unfortunately, I heard this as I walked away stiffly.
“Don’t worry about it, Fatboy, you’re not the first guy I’ve made cum, and you won’t be the last.”
Oh man, this kid just rules!
To be continued?
I walked the same route I did, hoping to see him as I walked, but it wasn’t until I passed his house, slightly disappointed at the fact I didn’t see him, that I heard the all too familiar voice.
“Hey Mister, glad to see you back, do you have my money?”
Yay, I shouted to myself in my head, it was real!
“Yes, sir, I got the 1000 bucks I promised you. What do we do now?”
“I see you didn’t only bring the money, what do you expect to do with those.” He said as he pointed to the bulges of my shirt pockets.
I pulled out a measuring tape, a pair of handcuffs and a digital camera.
“Well, sir, I thought while you and I were together today, you would show me how big your muscles are, how strong you are, and I could take some pictures of you doing some muscle poses.”
He started laughing, not little kid giggles, but bully belly laughs, it was so unreal coming out of such a young boy, only 3 years old. But it went along with the rest of his body, shoulders wider than my own, despite the fact that I stood 2 and a half feet taller than him.
“You thought that, huh? If you didn’t give me a thousand, I would have said you thought wrong, but I guess your money does deserve some sort of show, but you have to promise me some stuff.”
“Okay, like what?”
“Well, first of all, those pictures are only for you and me, no one else gets to see them, if I find out that someone else has seen those, I will come to your house, break down the door and crush the camera to bits, got it?”
“Absolutely, sir. There is no way I would ever let these pictures get around, they’re just for you, and especially for me.”
“What would you use them for, fatty?”
“Sir, I know you’re incredibly smart and bright for your age, but there are things that kids your age couldn’t possibly understand.”
“Oh, I know, you’re going to jack off to them, aren’t ya mister?”
“How do you know about that?”
“How do you think? When my body grew, my intelligence, both emotional and mental grew with my muscles, I found out when I turned 3 years old, my dick started getting hard for no reason, using my advanced intelligence, I looked it up on the internet, and found out all about sex. So nothing is beyond my understanding, in fact, not only am I stronger and more muscular than you’ll ever be, but I’m smarter, too. I can calculate Pi to the thousandth decimal, I can speak in 5 different languages fluently, by the time I was 2 years old I had already read 500 books, not little baby books, I’m talking about novels ranging from 300 pages all the way up to 750 pages. Harry Potter was my first book, at 1 and a half, I finished all 7 books in the series in about 4 months.”
“My goodness, sir. I mean, you’re just about perfect, so muscular, so strong, so mature.”
“Just about perfect? Don’t you mean absolutely perfect, there’s no other person on the planet that has the abilities I have, look at my face, my body, and my intelligence, if I lived in Ancient Greece, the most famous works of art in the World would have been modeled after me.”
“So, if you’re so smart and powerful, why are you just a bully, you could do so much, you could change the World, but you’re only extorting people of their hard-earned money with your body. What’s the story?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“What?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you had limited intelligence. I’m only 3 years old, but I’ll lay it on the line for you, I’m already a self-made millionaire, you think you’re the only one in my harem, I collect money from all over the county, I’m not just an extortionist, I am a construction and deconstruction worker, I’m a one man demolition crew, you know that 40 story tall building that was imploded 2 weeks ago?”
“Y-yeah?”
“They didn’t use dynamite, not unless you call these two fellows T and T.” He said as he flexed his biceps.
“No, no way, you can’t be that strong, they said the destruction was equivalent to a 20 kiloton bomb, you’re saying you did that by yourself?”
“What, you doubt me? I’ll have to show you a small example of my strength in a little while, but first, why don’t you get some shots of a pre-pumped up muscle master.”
I fumbled in my pockets, first for the camera, to take a shot at the inhuman size of this kid’s biceps, if possible, they looked even bigger than yesterday, peaking near the top of his head! He seriously looked like a morphed picture come to life, but he was standing right near in front of me, flesh and bone. Second, I wanted to get my measuring tape to see exactly how big around Little Mikey’s (yeah right!) huge biceps are.
“Get some good pictures, fat boy? Well set the camera down and come over and see how big these muscles really are.”
I put the camera down on a picnic table nearby and took my tape out, I wanted to get measurements of his whole body, I loved to do it from the bottom up, I love pecs and biceps, so I like to save the best for last.
“Well, how big am I?”
“Calves, 19 inches around! That’s awesome. Thighs, 30 inches around, on a kid your size, that’s unreal. Waist, 20 inches, your calves are almost as big around as your waist is! Your chest is incredible, 52 inches of huge muscle, I’ve known grown male bodybuilders who couldn’t crack 50 inches, you’re only 3 years old, imagine how huge your chest will be at 6, it’ll leave any 3 male bodybuilders put together in the dust! Your biceps, Holy Christ! They’re 23 inches around! They’re 3 inches bigger than your waist, I’ve never seen freaky numbers like that!”
“You like that, don’t you? You like how much muscle I’ve built on my body, I can tell you this, I’ve only just begun. If I get a little pump from a workout, I can grow much, much bigger, the problem is, I can’t really get too much of a pump anymore, everything’s just too light.”
He went over to a boulder in the backyard, took it up in his arms and brought it over to me, it was fairly big, about 3 feet across, 3 feet tall, 2 feet thick.
“Try and lift that, chubby.”
I bent down and tried to lift it off the ground, but my back was strained, so I had to quit. I tried to roll it, but I couldn’t get it to move in any way. I kicked it, all I did was hurt my foot.
“How, how much does that thing weigh?”
“Oh, about 700 pounds, I would guess, not that it makes a difference to me, it hasn’t been hard for me to lift since I was 2 and a half, I have tried several times to make it more difficult, one hand, one finger, even my pinky was able to lift it without too much trouble, nothing seems to be able to make me work harder with it, I think it‘s outlived its usefulness.” He picked it up and in one motion lifts the rock over his head, then he sets it down on the top of his head and let go with his hands, his head accepted the weight like he was putting a hat on. He started jumping up and down, dancing all around, like the rock wasn’t even there, then he jumped straight up from the ground, and the rock went up and up and up, it went up 15 feet at least, and then he met the rock with his fist, breaking it into a million little pieces.
“Jesus, that was incredible, could you show me more of your power?”
“Sure, but not today, you’re having a little bit too much fun today, but I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you take one more picture of me, I’m sure you’re going to know what to do with it.”
Then he gave me the most awesome pose I’ve ever seen or heard about, he bent forward in a most muscular pose, and his body just exploded with size, he made the Incredible Hulk look like a 97 pound weakling. His traps were visible, peaking up near his ears, his shoulders, biceps, forearms, and pecs flexed up so huge, I couldn’t help but come in my pants at the sight in front of me. I am not a pedophile, I just love muscle, on anyone, but I never was attracted to any kids, no matter how muscular they appeared. This kid had the kind of muscle that just changed your definition of right and wrong.
I shakily took the photograph, fully realizing that my pants would soon be showing the results and turned around, hoping he wouldn’t notice, unfortunately, I heard this as I walked away stiffly.
“Don’t worry about it, Fatboy, you’re not the first guy I’ve made cum, and you won’t be the last.”
Oh man, this kid just rules!
To be continued?
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.
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.
The Tiniest Bully
Okay, here is a new story by me that was influenced a little by Edward Edward's last story, it may have a sequel.
The Tiniest Bully
*Author’s note: This story is based on stories sent to me by Edward Edwards to post at this site, I decided that I would put my own little spin on things, make it as extreme as possible, the power and muscularity of the character for his size and age, which I decided should be 3 years old, is completely unreal and therefore shouldn’t be taken seriously by anyone. I hope you who are inclined enjoy this story.*
So, here I was walking down the street, trying to get home from the movie theater, when suddenly, a young voice came out of nowhere.
"Hey mister, want to see something cool?"
I looked down to see this little kid, probably 5 or 6 years old, he was 3'5 coming right up to my waist, he was wearing a sweatshirt and sweat pants, but even so, it looked like he was packing a couple pounds too many on his short body. I looked around and nodded, he took me by the hand, with a grip that surprised me, it was like a vice grip was suddenly closing in on my index and middle fingers. He pulled me along, almost against my own will, this little kid was near dragging my body, and I'm 5'11 and 250 pounds, mostly fat, and this kid was forcefully doing this like he wasn't haven't trouble pulling me at all.
He took me around the back of his house, and nearly pushed me forward with so much force I stumbled, damn, this little kid was strong, maybe its all that extra poundage. It was about the time I looked forward to see something amazing, there was a huge man in the backyard, and he was tied up, if I had to estimate, he was at least 6'3 and 340 pounds of muscle, yet he was bound and gagged like a stuffed toy. Then I heard some very loud tearing sounds from behind me, followed by the most incredible thing, this kid was laughing maniacally.
"Well, fat boy, you fell right into my trap, meet my older brother, Tyler, he's 17, a senior football player at the local high school, my name is Mikey, I'm going to be 4 in 3 weeks."
I turned around and my eyes met the most incredible sight ever, this kid, only 3 years old had the most massively muscular body I had ever seen on anyone, proportionally he made his huge brother look small.
"Did you? I mean, your brother? He's so huge! How could you?"
"As you can see, fatty, I'm pretty muscular in my own right, it's mostly because I had something in my system that converted whatever I did, exercise, walking, running, jumping, eating, anything that burned calories put muscle on my body, and no matter what I lifted, shoes, big books, my mom, my dad, the couch with both my mom and dad on it, my body instantly became strong enough to do it. But I didn't dare try facing my brother, not until I felt I was big enough and strong enough to do whatever I wanted to him, now, I can, with ease."
He saw me staring at his body, so he went through a series of incredible flexes that had my mouth on the floor, his pecs looked to be 4 inches deep at least, his 8 pack abs were so big, they probably stood out an inch between sections, he did an ab pose that showed his obliques in all their striated glory. He did a double biceps pose that seriously made me fall to my knees because they were so beautiful, they peaked up over his fists, almost to the top of his head! He finished off with a most muscular pose that would have made the most massive Mr. Olympia contests piss their posers. I didn't know what to do, this boy was the most incredible beast of muscle I've ever seen, at nearly 4 years old, he put grown men to shame.
"Please, show me your true power, Mikey."
"First of all, you will address me as Sir, I don't think you realize what you're in store for, as of right now, I own you, you will give me your money, all of it, unless you want me to beat you up worse than I beat my brother up, and you're nowhere near as big and strong as him. For a little money, once a month, I will let you see my power, I'll let you see my muscles, maybe even feel them, I know you like it."
"How much, sir?"
God, only 3 years old and he's already a masterful bully.
"500 dollars, if you give me 500 dollars a month, I think that's a good deal, after all, you get a show that only few people will ever see, a near 4 year old muscle man twice the size proportionally of most male bodybuilders, with power to match. What do you say?"
"I don't know how long I could keep that up, I don't make a whole lot, I only have 1,500 in the bank right now."
"Tell you what, you give me 1000 dollars out of that, and that'll last you for 6 months, by the time that runs out, you should have a whole lot more in there. Unless, you don't think I'm worth it." He said this with a pout, as he flexes his right bicep, which looks just as big as his head, if not a little bigger.
"Okay, I'll do it, I'll take 1000 out of the bank and give it to you, Sir, after all, this is a chance, I'm sure, a lot of people in this World would pay millions for, I know from the internet I'm not the only person who enjoys to see huge muscle and strength on a kid your age and size."
"There you go, meet me back here tomorrow with the money, I'll give you a show that you won't believe, it'll be worth it."
Then to signal me that I should go now, he did another most muscular pose and growled a little. He then went back to his brother and pulled him off the ground in a cradle carry, as to show me a little sample of his strength as I walked back into the front yard. I thought to myself, oh yeah, its gonna be worth it, after all, would you want someone that strong to get mad at you?
To Be Continued...
The Tiniest Bully
*Author’s note: This story is based on stories sent to me by Edward Edwards to post at this site, I decided that I would put my own little spin on things, make it as extreme as possible, the power and muscularity of the character for his size and age, which I decided should be 3 years old, is completely unreal and therefore shouldn’t be taken seriously by anyone. I hope you who are inclined enjoy this story.*
So, here I was walking down the street, trying to get home from the movie theater, when suddenly, a young voice came out of nowhere.
"Hey mister, want to see something cool?"
I looked down to see this little kid, probably 5 or 6 years old, he was 3'5 coming right up to my waist, he was wearing a sweatshirt and sweat pants, but even so, it looked like he was packing a couple pounds too many on his short body. I looked around and nodded, he took me by the hand, with a grip that surprised me, it was like a vice grip was suddenly closing in on my index and middle fingers. He pulled me along, almost against my own will, this little kid was near dragging my body, and I'm 5'11 and 250 pounds, mostly fat, and this kid was forcefully doing this like he wasn't haven't trouble pulling me at all.
He took me around the back of his house, and nearly pushed me forward with so much force I stumbled, damn, this little kid was strong, maybe its all that extra poundage. It was about the time I looked forward to see something amazing, there was a huge man in the backyard, and he was tied up, if I had to estimate, he was at least 6'3 and 340 pounds of muscle, yet he was bound and gagged like a stuffed toy. Then I heard some very loud tearing sounds from behind me, followed by the most incredible thing, this kid was laughing maniacally.
"Well, fat boy, you fell right into my trap, meet my older brother, Tyler, he's 17, a senior football player at the local high school, my name is Mikey, I'm going to be 4 in 3 weeks."
I turned around and my eyes met the most incredible sight ever, this kid, only 3 years old had the most massively muscular body I had ever seen on anyone, proportionally he made his huge brother look small.
"Did you? I mean, your brother? He's so huge! How could you?"
"As you can see, fatty, I'm pretty muscular in my own right, it's mostly because I had something in my system that converted whatever I did, exercise, walking, running, jumping, eating, anything that burned calories put muscle on my body, and no matter what I lifted, shoes, big books, my mom, my dad, the couch with both my mom and dad on it, my body instantly became strong enough to do it. But I didn't dare try facing my brother, not until I felt I was big enough and strong enough to do whatever I wanted to him, now, I can, with ease."
He saw me staring at his body, so he went through a series of incredible flexes that had my mouth on the floor, his pecs looked to be 4 inches deep at least, his 8 pack abs were so big, they probably stood out an inch between sections, he did an ab pose that showed his obliques in all their striated glory. He did a double biceps pose that seriously made me fall to my knees because they were so beautiful, they peaked up over his fists, almost to the top of his head! He finished off with a most muscular pose that would have made the most massive Mr. Olympia contests piss their posers. I didn't know what to do, this boy was the most incredible beast of muscle I've ever seen, at nearly 4 years old, he put grown men to shame.
"Please, show me your true power, Mikey."
"First of all, you will address me as Sir, I don't think you realize what you're in store for, as of right now, I own you, you will give me your money, all of it, unless you want me to beat you up worse than I beat my brother up, and you're nowhere near as big and strong as him. For a little money, once a month, I will let you see my power, I'll let you see my muscles, maybe even feel them, I know you like it."
"How much, sir?"
God, only 3 years old and he's already a masterful bully.
"500 dollars, if you give me 500 dollars a month, I think that's a good deal, after all, you get a show that only few people will ever see, a near 4 year old muscle man twice the size proportionally of most male bodybuilders, with power to match. What do you say?"
"I don't know how long I could keep that up, I don't make a whole lot, I only have 1,500 in the bank right now."
"Tell you what, you give me 1000 dollars out of that, and that'll last you for 6 months, by the time that runs out, you should have a whole lot more in there. Unless, you don't think I'm worth it." He said this with a pout, as he flexes his right bicep, which looks just as big as his head, if not a little bigger.
"Okay, I'll do it, I'll take 1000 out of the bank and give it to you, Sir, after all, this is a chance, I'm sure, a lot of people in this World would pay millions for, I know from the internet I'm not the only person who enjoys to see huge muscle and strength on a kid your age and size."
"There you go, meet me back here tomorrow with the money, I'll give you a show that you won't believe, it'll be worth it."
Then to signal me that I should go now, he did another most muscular pose and growled a little. He then went back to his brother and pulled him off the ground in a cradle carry, as to show me a little sample of his strength as I walked back into the front yard. I thought to myself, oh yeah, its gonna be worth it, after all, would you want someone that strong to get mad at you?
To Be Continued...
BROTHERLY HUMILIATION
Now I have previously mentioned how my brother from an early age liked to humiliate me with his superior strength. My first experience in humiliation really occurred by accident when one of my brother’s stronger friends, a very large 4 year old boy, had bullied me while I was digging a large hole in soft sand (we were trying to tunnel under the street in our front yard – as a game). Well at that time I was in the eighth grade and was an 85 pound 13 year old, standing about 5 foot 1 inch tall and I was wearing a light weight jacket (it was about 50 degrees outside). I was standing in this hole which was about 2 feet deep and saw this kid, dressed unusually (in only shorts and a muscle shirt, in a relatively cold day) riding his bicycle with training wheels still on, approaching. My brother said to him, “Show my brother your big muscles”; and getting off his bike, this kid approached me while standing in this hole, equaling our heights as a result; and he flexed an enormous (especially for a four year old) bicep in front of my face. I made a dumb nervous remark saying that it must be baby fat, in front of this kid prompting him to demand that I feel his bicep – threatening me with annihilation with his fist if I didn’t do as he said! Standing awkwardly in a hole that I could not easily climb out of, I complied, especially after this unusually large kid had bunched up my coat into his fist and had started to nearly curl my entire weight off the ground. His arm was hard as a rock (and thinking back was probably larger than anything I could have flexed later on in college as well!).
Later that night my brother remembering the incident, flexed his own bicep against mine. While it was not nearly as big as his friends, it was still at least 50 percent bigger than mine, even as a 4 ½ year old! Then playing around we arm wrestled and in spite of a nearly 20 pound weight and a foot and one-half height advantage for me over him, he managed to just beat me using his right arm. I was able to keep him from beating me with the left, as I was somewhat ambidextrous but later he was able to beat me by the time he was 5 years old with either arm. In fact by the time he was six, he could put his significantly stronger right arm against both of my arms and still beat me, when I was nearly 15 years old!
We had throwing contests with a soft ball, which to my scrawny body was more like a shot put in weight. The contest was completely lopsided with me always throwing the ball first and then challenging him to throw it more than 3 times farther with him losing if he couldn’t…he was that good and I that bad!
Our first wrestling match occurred when he was about five years old. In a fair match, I quickly discovered that my brother, in spite of being about 20 pounds lighter and 18 inches shorter, had no trouble controlling me into submission. Generally, however I was able to defend myself for I had a secret weapon – my brother was extremely ticklish and would go into spasms of laughter if I merely elbowed him in the ribs, even while he had grabbed both of my wrists with his stronger hand grips.
My supreme embarrassment in wrestling my brother came at a family reunion where one of my uncles (who was a P.E. coach) noticed that my brother – who was running around like a typical 6 ½ year old just in his underwear at his house playing with my other younger cousins – had noticeably bigger arm and leg muscles than I did as a 15 year old. And noticing this disparity had us compare biceps and leg muscles to each other. Even as a 6 year old, my brother’s biceps were at least double mine in size and so was his surprisingly muscular thighs. He had us first arm wrestle each other (I knew what the outcome would be!) and of course he easily beat me in the right arm and he even had beaten me, for the first time in the left. On a weight machine we discovered that my little brother could curl three times what I could with his legs(about 150 pounds vs. my 45 pounds)! He then had us wrestle each other, after teaching the basics (for neither of us really knew what a pin was, much less what an illegal hold was). This match must have been quite a sight for I was as a 15 year old only weighed about 97 pounds, while standing a relatively tall 5 foot 7 inches tall, while my brother weighed about 80 pounds but was only 3 foot 11 inches tall but in his white briefs was extraordinarily muscular with bulging arm muscles, bulging thighs and even with bulging butt muscles. I weighing so little for my height was downright scrawny in comparison! I could not flex a muscle approaching much more than half his size even years later in college, compared to him even then. Even his chest seemed to be significantly broader than mine. We wrestled on the wrestling mat of the basement gym with my cousins, a few of my uncle’s friends watching – with me in a pair of swimming trunks and my brother in his white briefs. My brother, having wrestled me before, knew his superior strength and for a moment, embarrassingly to me, just stood there as I tried to pull his muscular body to the ground. Desperate, I tried to lift him, but being weak I could only just get him off the ground but never was able to make him lose his balance. He then with a gut wrench move, grabbed me by the waist and lifted me and falling backwards, he pulled me down to the mat. In what was probably an illegal move, my 6 year old brother than flipped over on top of me and wrapped his muscular legs around my waist and at the same time grabbed both of my arms by the wrist with his strong hands. Forcing both of my arms above my head, he then used his very muscular thighs which bulged mountainously against my spindly legs and butt: he stretched me out purposely causing me pain. My uncle mesmerized by the spectacle of a muscular young 1st grader, dominating a skinny 10th grader didn’t call an end to the match for what seem to me minutes. It wasn’t until my brother bored with just stretching me out, let go of my arms and started choking my neck with his hands (to the point of me blacking out) that my uncle finally pulled him off (with some difficulty) and ended the match.
Years later when I was attending a junior college in preparation for a 4 year college, the show ‘The Incredible Hulk’ was on TV. My brother at that time was a very muscular 12 year old standing 5 foot 6 and weighing 170 pounds. On the other hand as a 20 ½ year old, I was about 50 to 60 pounds lighter than he was and he was so macho that he didn’t bother even wrestling me anymore. Instead he would call my name as I was walking past his room and he would do the incredible hulk act ripping out my shirts (which were too big for me) by just flexing his muscles. I wore a boy’s size 10 to 12 (if the shirt tails were long enough, while my brother wore a man’s extra-extra large shirt. He had such muscular thighs that he could only wear a man’s size 38 waist pants (although his own waist size was only 32 inches) so that his thighs could get into them. My pant size for a pair of Levi’s were only 25 inches in comparison (but my waist sized, depending on my weight which varied, was only about 19 to 22 inches). My brother was so muscular he could rip out my cheaper jeans by just sticking his arms in them and flexing.
A final humiliation: while in college, one time I was sitting by myself in church in a chair about 6 feet behind the next row forward, towards the back of the church. While waiting for church to begin I had noticed that two parents (they were friends of my parents) had laid a small child sized sleeping bag on the floor in front of me behind the row that they were sitting at. A child dressed only in a pair of red boxers and a muscle shirt – laid on the sleeping bag that was in front of me. That muscle shirt would have been cute on any other boy of this kid’s age, actually fit this child perfectly, revealing very significant biceps, deltoids, a surprisingly tapered torso and was short enough that you could even see this boy’s abs which bulged. His thighs were even more remarkable in the aspect that they were so muscular that the baggy boxers that he wore, that had a split for running on each side, actually were rolled up by his thighs and quads nearly half way. I thought maybe that this kid was a fairly muscular 10 to 12 year old until that I noticed that he was doodling on a coloring book that all the 3 year old class members were using, with a crayon! Just than church started and the muscular kids older brother arrived also to sit in a chair just to the right of him by his parents who were sitting directly in front of this muscle kid. The older brother took after his mom, was slim and delicate in appearance and was not very tall, standing at most 4 foot 7, short for a thirteen year old and he weighed only 65 pounds. The younger brother in contrast was the tallest 3 year old that I had ever seen, standing at 4 foot 6 and he weighed 105 pounds (I found this out later). The three year old had 4 crayons of different colors and was busy coloring. Then to my surprise, as the congregation was singing loudly, the introductory songs, the older thin brother started stealing the crayons one by one from the younger brother while he was coloring as if he had a death wish for his younger brother, though 10 years younger looked like he was twice as muscular and husky. The older brother would lean way the top of his chair and then grab a crayon, the younger brother would lunge at him, but the older brother being lighter and more agile would always manage to get out of the way and the 3 year old though angry had a generally sweet nature and would quietly retreat back to his sleeping bag and would then continue coloring with the remaining crayon(s). The 3 year old had laid the last crayon (the older brother had taken them all) on the floor and looked like he was just looking at the pictures in the book when the older brother tried to take the last crayon. Suddenly the younger brother grabbed him by the waist of his baggy jeans and pulling him towards him, grabbed his waste by the other hand and then lifted him over the top of the chair over which he was leaning and then to my amazement lifted him cleanly over his head and without putting him down, rolled onto his back still bench pressing his older brother over him by the waist, all the time shaking him violently, stating that he was going to beat him up. His brother who formally had a mischievous smile now had a look of extreme terror, even that of doom. Finally the younger kid threw his older brother on top of the sleeping and sat on top of his older brother’s waist wrapping his muscular legs around his brother and then grabbing his brother by the neck with both hands he started to choke him. I began to get alarmed as I watched this spectacle as the older brother’s face was starting to turn red, helpless to pull his strong brothers hands off with his weaker arms and was wondering what to do? Even so at the same time I marveled at the extraordinary muscularity of the younger child for while he was choking his brother, his muscular thighs flexed into striated round balls, and the formerly loose fitting boxers lost the struggle to contain even half of his vast deeply furrowed gluteal muscles which I would have to say, would have rivaled that even of some full grown men (myself included of course). His muscle shirt now looked like it was also two sizes too small, as the powerful kid was strangling his older brother as the top straps were stretched taunt and were caught between the boy’s muscular deltoids and that of his thick strong neck. . I thought to myself, this young kid in his rage could be dangerous even for an adult to deal with as he was so strong and so I held back to intervene. The young kid, then to my relief, released his choke hold and then started to pummel the older boys face and chest with his fists; but then he started to choke him again! Finally he again released the older brother’s neck to hit him again and at that point the older brother who had been taking all of this abuse started screaming like a baby signaling his parents who were absorbed in the singing, to come to his rescue.
I guess the reason I mentioned all of this is that my brother a few weeks later mentioned that I was so puny that a friend of his in the same class that he attended in school had a little brother who had bigger muscles than me and was only 4 or 5 years old. I said, “I may be puny, but this I’ve got to see. We just happened to be invited over for a swim and a barbeque in the backyard of the family that had sat in front of us in church, who happened also to be the ones that my brother was talking about. My brother was wrong however, the younger brother indeed was only 3 years old (although he was almost 4). My brother tried to get me into an embarrassing situation with this kid stating that I had doubted that this kid could out flex me or out wrestle me or beat me in a fist fight. Trying to get out of an awkward and embarrassing situation, I brought up my amazement how this kid could press his older brother over his head… that I had seen this in church (and I admitted frankly that this kid probably could kick my butt). His proud dad had his younger son repeat his display of strength by lifting his older brother again over his head and then said, “he could lift you too.” I said incredulously, “over his head?!” “Well”, his dad said, “maybe not over his head, he might hurt himself, although he might be able to do that with an equivalent weight on a weight machine, but I will have him lift you in a different way.” He had his muscular 3 year old, who was even more intimidating-- being dressed only in a Speedo style suit first carry me cradle style in his arms, then he had him carry across on his shoulders… quite a sight a 110 to 120 pound, spindly man being carried by a comparatively short, muscular, 105 pound three year old! He finally had us compare our muscles and brought out a measuring tape to show that his remarkable son already had 11 biceps (mine were less than 7 inches!) and that his thighs were already 21 inches slightly larger than my waist at that time (19 inches) and considerably larger than my 10 ½ thighs. The final humiliation came when he had his younger son arm wrestle his older brother and ME at the same time. He had brought out two foot stools and had me on one side and his older brother on the other side place our arms against his 3 year old, with him sitting in the middle. It must have been an crazy sight to see two very skinny kids arm wrestling a mini hulk with him looking like he had easily more muscle that both of us combined. Taking pictures the dad had his powerful son wait while we were struggling and were somewhat counterbalanced by each other me at his right hand and his brother at his left. If we lost against this muscle kid, it was agreed that we would wrestle each other for a consolation prize. My arm was vibrating and so was his older brother’s arm as we struggled and I was surprised by the fact that the three year olds hands were almost as big as mine and bigger by far than his older brother’s. When GO was finally said of course we were defeated. The dad then had me wrestle (not arm wrestle) the small, light but relatively athletic older brother. Though I was 45 pounds heavier than his weight at 110 pounds, I was also 15 inches taller. And for his small size, his smaller (than his brother) muscles were surprisingly well defined. The wrestling match lasted a couple of minutes and he had a problem dealing with my much greater height; but he even was stronger than me and managed to pin me outright. He said to me, “Imagine if you were wrestling my younger brother, he would have pulverized you!” By the way, this incident my own brother teased me about for years afterwards.
Later that night my brother remembering the incident, flexed his own bicep against mine. While it was not nearly as big as his friends, it was still at least 50 percent bigger than mine, even as a 4 ½ year old! Then playing around we arm wrestled and in spite of a nearly 20 pound weight and a foot and one-half height advantage for me over him, he managed to just beat me using his right arm. I was able to keep him from beating me with the left, as I was somewhat ambidextrous but later he was able to beat me by the time he was 5 years old with either arm. In fact by the time he was six, he could put his significantly stronger right arm against both of my arms and still beat me, when I was nearly 15 years old!
We had throwing contests with a soft ball, which to my scrawny body was more like a shot put in weight. The contest was completely lopsided with me always throwing the ball first and then challenging him to throw it more than 3 times farther with him losing if he couldn’t…he was that good and I that bad!
Our first wrestling match occurred when he was about five years old. In a fair match, I quickly discovered that my brother, in spite of being about 20 pounds lighter and 18 inches shorter, had no trouble controlling me into submission. Generally, however I was able to defend myself for I had a secret weapon – my brother was extremely ticklish and would go into spasms of laughter if I merely elbowed him in the ribs, even while he had grabbed both of my wrists with his stronger hand grips.
My supreme embarrassment in wrestling my brother came at a family reunion where one of my uncles (who was a P.E. coach) noticed that my brother – who was running around like a typical 6 ½ year old just in his underwear at his house playing with my other younger cousins – had noticeably bigger arm and leg muscles than I did as a 15 year old. And noticing this disparity had us compare biceps and leg muscles to each other. Even as a 6 year old, my brother’s biceps were at least double mine in size and so was his surprisingly muscular thighs. He had us first arm wrestle each other (I knew what the outcome would be!) and of course he easily beat me in the right arm and he even had beaten me, for the first time in the left. On a weight machine we discovered that my little brother could curl three times what I could with his legs(about 150 pounds vs. my 45 pounds)! He then had us wrestle each other, after teaching the basics (for neither of us really knew what a pin was, much less what an illegal hold was). This match must have been quite a sight for I was as a 15 year old only weighed about 97 pounds, while standing a relatively tall 5 foot 7 inches tall, while my brother weighed about 80 pounds but was only 3 foot 11 inches tall but in his white briefs was extraordinarily muscular with bulging arm muscles, bulging thighs and even with bulging butt muscles. I weighing so little for my height was downright scrawny in comparison! I could not flex a muscle approaching much more than half his size even years later in college, compared to him even then. Even his chest seemed to be significantly broader than mine. We wrestled on the wrestling mat of the basement gym with my cousins, a few of my uncle’s friends watching – with me in a pair of swimming trunks and my brother in his white briefs. My brother, having wrestled me before, knew his superior strength and for a moment, embarrassingly to me, just stood there as I tried to pull his muscular body to the ground. Desperate, I tried to lift him, but being weak I could only just get him off the ground but never was able to make him lose his balance. He then with a gut wrench move, grabbed me by the waist and lifted me and falling backwards, he pulled me down to the mat. In what was probably an illegal move, my 6 year old brother than flipped over on top of me and wrapped his muscular legs around my waist and at the same time grabbed both of my arms by the wrist with his strong hands. Forcing both of my arms above my head, he then used his very muscular thighs which bulged mountainously against my spindly legs and butt: he stretched me out purposely causing me pain. My uncle mesmerized by the spectacle of a muscular young 1st grader, dominating a skinny 10th grader didn’t call an end to the match for what seem to me minutes. It wasn’t until my brother bored with just stretching me out, let go of my arms and started choking my neck with his hands (to the point of me blacking out) that my uncle finally pulled him off (with some difficulty) and ended the match.
Years later when I was attending a junior college in preparation for a 4 year college, the show ‘The Incredible Hulk’ was on TV. My brother at that time was a very muscular 12 year old standing 5 foot 6 and weighing 170 pounds. On the other hand as a 20 ½ year old, I was about 50 to 60 pounds lighter than he was and he was so macho that he didn’t bother even wrestling me anymore. Instead he would call my name as I was walking past his room and he would do the incredible hulk act ripping out my shirts (which were too big for me) by just flexing his muscles. I wore a boy’s size 10 to 12 (if the shirt tails were long enough, while my brother wore a man’s extra-extra large shirt. He had such muscular thighs that he could only wear a man’s size 38 waist pants (although his own waist size was only 32 inches) so that his thighs could get into them. My pant size for a pair of Levi’s were only 25 inches in comparison (but my waist sized, depending on my weight which varied, was only about 19 to 22 inches). My brother was so muscular he could rip out my cheaper jeans by just sticking his arms in them and flexing.
A final humiliation: while in college, one time I was sitting by myself in church in a chair about 6 feet behind the next row forward, towards the back of the church. While waiting for church to begin I had noticed that two parents (they were friends of my parents) had laid a small child sized sleeping bag on the floor in front of me behind the row that they were sitting at. A child dressed only in a pair of red boxers and a muscle shirt – laid on the sleeping bag that was in front of me. That muscle shirt would have been cute on any other boy of this kid’s age, actually fit this child perfectly, revealing very significant biceps, deltoids, a surprisingly tapered torso and was short enough that you could even see this boy’s abs which bulged. His thighs were even more remarkable in the aspect that they were so muscular that the baggy boxers that he wore, that had a split for running on each side, actually were rolled up by his thighs and quads nearly half way. I thought maybe that this kid was a fairly muscular 10 to 12 year old until that I noticed that he was doodling on a coloring book that all the 3 year old class members were using, with a crayon! Just than church started and the muscular kids older brother arrived also to sit in a chair just to the right of him by his parents who were sitting directly in front of this muscle kid. The older brother took after his mom, was slim and delicate in appearance and was not very tall, standing at most 4 foot 7, short for a thirteen year old and he weighed only 65 pounds. The younger brother in contrast was the tallest 3 year old that I had ever seen, standing at 4 foot 6 and he weighed 105 pounds (I found this out later). The three year old had 4 crayons of different colors and was busy coloring. Then to my surprise, as the congregation was singing loudly, the introductory songs, the older thin brother started stealing the crayons one by one from the younger brother while he was coloring as if he had a death wish for his younger brother, though 10 years younger looked like he was twice as muscular and husky. The older brother would lean way the top of his chair and then grab a crayon, the younger brother would lunge at him, but the older brother being lighter and more agile would always manage to get out of the way and the 3 year old though angry had a generally sweet nature and would quietly retreat back to his sleeping bag and would then continue coloring with the remaining crayon(s). The 3 year old had laid the last crayon (the older brother had taken them all) on the floor and looked like he was just looking at the pictures in the book when the older brother tried to take the last crayon. Suddenly the younger brother grabbed him by the waist of his baggy jeans and pulling him towards him, grabbed his waste by the other hand and then lifted him over the top of the chair over which he was leaning and then to my amazement lifted him cleanly over his head and without putting him down, rolled onto his back still bench pressing his older brother over him by the waist, all the time shaking him violently, stating that he was going to beat him up. His brother who formally had a mischievous smile now had a look of extreme terror, even that of doom. Finally the younger kid threw his older brother on top of the sleeping and sat on top of his older brother’s waist wrapping his muscular legs around his brother and then grabbing his brother by the neck with both hands he started to choke him. I began to get alarmed as I watched this spectacle as the older brother’s face was starting to turn red, helpless to pull his strong brothers hands off with his weaker arms and was wondering what to do? Even so at the same time I marveled at the extraordinary muscularity of the younger child for while he was choking his brother, his muscular thighs flexed into striated round balls, and the formerly loose fitting boxers lost the struggle to contain even half of his vast deeply furrowed gluteal muscles which I would have to say, would have rivaled that even of some full grown men (myself included of course). His muscle shirt now looked like it was also two sizes too small, as the powerful kid was strangling his older brother as the top straps were stretched taunt and were caught between the boy’s muscular deltoids and that of his thick strong neck. . I thought to myself, this young kid in his rage could be dangerous even for an adult to deal with as he was so strong and so I held back to intervene. The young kid, then to my relief, released his choke hold and then started to pummel the older boys face and chest with his fists; but then he started to choke him again! Finally he again released the older brother’s neck to hit him again and at that point the older brother who had been taking all of this abuse started screaming like a baby signaling his parents who were absorbed in the singing, to come to his rescue.
I guess the reason I mentioned all of this is that my brother a few weeks later mentioned that I was so puny that a friend of his in the same class that he attended in school had a little brother who had bigger muscles than me and was only 4 or 5 years old. I said, “I may be puny, but this I’ve got to see. We just happened to be invited over for a swim and a barbeque in the backyard of the family that had sat in front of us in church, who happened also to be the ones that my brother was talking about. My brother was wrong however, the younger brother indeed was only 3 years old (although he was almost 4). My brother tried to get me into an embarrassing situation with this kid stating that I had doubted that this kid could out flex me or out wrestle me or beat me in a fist fight. Trying to get out of an awkward and embarrassing situation, I brought up my amazement how this kid could press his older brother over his head… that I had seen this in church (and I admitted frankly that this kid probably could kick my butt). His proud dad had his younger son repeat his display of strength by lifting his older brother again over his head and then said, “he could lift you too.” I said incredulously, “over his head?!” “Well”, his dad said, “maybe not over his head, he might hurt himself, although he might be able to do that with an equivalent weight on a weight machine, but I will have him lift you in a different way.” He had his muscular 3 year old, who was even more intimidating-- being dressed only in a Speedo style suit first carry me cradle style in his arms, then he had him carry across on his shoulders… quite a sight a 110 to 120 pound, spindly man being carried by a comparatively short, muscular, 105 pound three year old! He finally had us compare our muscles and brought out a measuring tape to show that his remarkable son already had 11 biceps (mine were less than 7 inches!) and that his thighs were already 21 inches slightly larger than my waist at that time (19 inches) and considerably larger than my 10 ½ thighs. The final humiliation came when he had his younger son arm wrestle his older brother and ME at the same time. He had brought out two foot stools and had me on one side and his older brother on the other side place our arms against his 3 year old, with him sitting in the middle. It must have been an crazy sight to see two very skinny kids arm wrestling a mini hulk with him looking like he had easily more muscle that both of us combined. Taking pictures the dad had his powerful son wait while we were struggling and were somewhat counterbalanced by each other me at his right hand and his brother at his left. If we lost against this muscle kid, it was agreed that we would wrestle each other for a consolation prize. My arm was vibrating and so was his older brother’s arm as we struggled and I was surprised by the fact that the three year olds hands were almost as big as mine and bigger by far than his older brother’s. When GO was finally said of course we were defeated. The dad then had me wrestle (not arm wrestle) the small, light but relatively athletic older brother. Though I was 45 pounds heavier than his weight at 110 pounds, I was also 15 inches taller. And for his small size, his smaller (than his brother) muscles were surprisingly well defined. The wrestling match lasted a couple of minutes and he had a problem dealing with my much greater height; but he even was stronger than me and managed to pin me outright. He said to me, “Imagine if you were wrestling my younger brother, he would have pulverized you!” By the way, this incident my own brother teased me about for years afterwards.
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