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Becoming a Man (By John D.)
|For the next month I watched Bobby as much as I could. I watched him mow the grass and I watched him as he strutted around the neighborhood. He never wore a shirt and was always in shorts, so his body got very tan. He lost all his baby fat after six weeks of lifting weights, so now he was all muscle. And that muscle kept getting bigger every week. I found out he had switched to a split training routine where he trained different body parts every day. This gave his muscles time to rest and grow bigger. And those muscles were definitely getting bigger. One day I asked Bobby if he ever read any books. He looked at me kind of funny and said, “Only when I have to in school. I hate to read. I like playing video games where I can kill and mutilate all the bad guys. I like killing and violence. I love smashing ‘em and pulling off their arms and stuff. It’s so much fun. And now that I got muscles, those little nerds in school – the ones who like to read - better watch out. I can kick their asses so bad. They better do what I say or they’re gonna get pounded.” He smashed his fist into his rock hard abs. “See I’m the man and they’re just nerds. I can smash ‘em anytime I want.” I nodded. Here was this kid who could probably read like a second grader getting ready to dominate every kid in his class. All the smart nerds would be nothing to his muscles. All the smartness in the world would be nothing to his strong fists. He was the man. And he could smash older kids too. Bobby could demolish me so bad I wouldn’t dare say no to him. Anything he told me to do I would do. He was only 13 years old, but he was so muscular, strong and dominating this 16 year old nerd had no choice.
He flexed his arm. “I put on another inch and a half of muscle on my arms in the last month. That’s three inches and a half inches of arm muscle in two months. Fourteen inches of solid rock.” He looked at his flexed arm proudly. “And my chest is 9 inches bigger and my legs have grown by 5 inches. All in two months. And my waist has shrunk by 5 inches. It’s a rock hard 28 inches now.” He flexed his abs and ran his hands over the corrugated muscle. “I didn’t gain a lot of weight at first because I was losing all that fat. Now I’m gaining a pound of muscle every day. Plus I’m getting taller. I’ve gained an inch in height. I need new clothes all the time. I just bust out of my old clothes. My chest and shoulders are getting so big. Except now I need smaller pants with legs big enough for my thighs. I’m driving my mom nuts with all my muscle growth. But she loves it. She’s very proud of me. She keeps buying me more supplements and stuff. She likes having a stud for a son. And I’m way stronger than my dad. He’s not nearly as strong as me. I beat him all the time in arm wrestling. Now he’s using two arms and I still beat him. It’s great being the stud of the family.” I nodded, wondering what it would be like to have a boy like Bobby in my house.
A week after that conversation, my family started on a three week vacation to a lake where we would do some fishing. My dad had a rowboat that would sit on a rack on top of our car. The rowboat was sitting in our garage and we needed to get the rowboat on top of the car. My dad could barely pick up the back of the rowboat, which was the heaviest part. He waited for me to pick up the bow. I grabbed the front of the boat, but I couldn’t lift the thing off the ground. I felt like such a weakling. So my dad put down the boat and cursed to himself. Then he looked next door and saw Bobby coming out of his house. As usual, Bobby was wearing nothing but shorts. “Hey Bobby, can you give us a hand?” he yelled. Bobby came over and my dad looked at his body. I don’t think my dad had noticed how big and muscular Bobby had gotten. Bobby’s tan skin looked radiant. His muscles were bulging under that paper thin skin. You could see the fibers in his muscles twitch as he moved his body. My dad’s mouth dropped open as he saw Bobby’s new muscles and total absence of fat. “Geez, you look like a man, Bobby, not a 13 year old.” Bobby looked at me and smiled. He flexed his bicep at my dad. “Yeah, I’m a man. You got a nerd here for a son.” I kind of sank into the ground as my dad looked at Bobby and then at me. My dad said, “Can you help us lift the boat onto the top of the car.?” Bobby looked at the boat and grinned. “Fuck yeah,” he said. He walked over and pushed me aside with one big swoop of his muscular arm. “Move outta the way, nerd. This is a man’s job.” He went over to the back of the boat, the heaviest part, and said to my dad, “You get the bow. It’s lighter.” Then Bobby grabbed the back of the boat and lifted it to his waist like he was lifting a feather. My dad lifted the bow to his waist and then Bobby pressed the back of the boat over his head like he was lifting a pillow. My dad barely managed to press the bow up and they put the boat on the car. “Like a fuckin’ feather,” said Bobby as he flexed his shoulders and arms for my dad to see. I felt totally humiliated, completely disgraced by this muscular 13 year old. My dad went up to Bobby and felt his arm and shoulder muscles as Bobby flexed them proudly. “You’re real strong, Bobby. It seems like just a little while ago you were a fat little kid. Now you’re a man with big muscles. A big strong man.” Bobby grinned. “Yeah, a big strong man.” He looked at me and stuck out his tongue. He was still a kid even though he had the muscles of a man.
We went on our three week fishing trip. When we got to the lake, my dad needed to find two grown men to help him unload the boat from the car and then to load the boat back up on the car when we left. Even those two grown men strained to lift the back of the boat up to the car. I thought about Bobby pressing that boat up over his head like it was a feather pillow. Bobby was a man, all right. A big strong man. The whole two weeks I kept thinking about Bobby. I wondered how much bigger he was getting, how much weight he had gained. I thought about him eating vast quantities of protein and changing all that protein into solid muscle. I thought about him gulping down all the muscle-building supplements his mother was buying him, supplements that were helping his already muscular body add more muscle every day. I wondered how many inches of new muscle he had packed on his arms, on his chest, on his shoulders, on his legs. I kept thinking of Bobby’s body growing, getting bigger, more muscular and even stronger. I could hardly wait to see Bobby when we returned.
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