What's It Like?
|"I can't imagine what it's like to be you!" the old guy said.
Well, who could?
Certainly not this guy. He had a nice enough body for a thirty-something but, heck, he couldn't have weighed more than 200 lbs.
So what IS it like to be the world's strongest kid?
Being 6 ft tall and weighing 350 lbs. of solid muscle is what it's like.
Being able to bench press 1,050 lbs., the world's record at any age, is what it's like.
Having a chest that looks a mountain, quads that are as big as an average guy's chest, and arms as big as some men's waist is what it's like.
Can you imagine it? I didn't think so. Heck, I can barely imagine it myself -- I'm just a 13 year old kid, after all.
I won't bore you by repeating the story of how I got here -- everyone knows it already. And I won't talk about what it's gonna be like when I'm full grown, much less when I reach my full potential. I just know I've got a lot of growing left to do and that's gonna be pretty fuckin' amazing, if you'll pardon my French.
So I'll just tell you about what it's like to be me NOW.
I can't go anywhere without getting stares and glances and once someone bellows "You're THAT kid, aren't you?" you might as well hang it up, I'm mobbed. Doesn't matter whether I'm at school, at the mall, at the gym, the story's always the same.
The girls are the worst. Giggle, giggle, touch, giggle, "will you make a muscle for us?" Puhleeze! As if I could do anything else -- I'm a walking, breathing MOUNTAIN of muscle, for fuck's sake.
Of course, their moms are scarier. I've seen wolves who looked tamer and less hungry.
The boys, well, what can I say? They stand their with their mouths open, jaws gaping, stunned, poleaxed, their little weenies sticking out like a bunch of puppy dog tails. I think they're so sexy, boys aching to be men, and there I am, another boy, only I'm more hulking manhood than they can ever dream of becoming.
I tend to go for the seniors, y'know. They're four years older but still not quite adults so if, well, you know. I don't want to worry about someone being thrown into jail because I want to get my rocks off!
Also, most of them have reached their full height so they're almost as tall as I am or even taller. I like being able to look inito their eyes. I don't care how big or little they are. I scare the shit out of the football players, it's so easy it's all I can do to keep from laughing my ass off.
"Can you imagine what it's like to have this much muscle?" I say as I slowly pull off my skin tight tee-shirt, the fabric ripping as pulls across my humongous 30 inch biceps. "To be this fucking huge? To be this fucking strong?"
(Tee hee! I stole THOSE lines from my friend HSMusclboy, a very talented aspiring artist who recently completed an amazing series of portraits of me!)
But I really go for the skinny ones, the ones with the big salamis having between their legs. They EXPECT other guys to have bigger muscles than they do, even 13 year old kids on occasion, but they DON'T expect to see 13 y.o. guys who have 13 inches down below. THAT makes their eyes bulge out and THAT makes their weenies hard and THAT makes ME happy! I've found one or two with ones as big as mine but I haven't come across one bigger (yet, that is -- I'm still lookin'!)
And then there are the men, the ones -- like that thirty-something codger -- who pay me to pose for them.
"Lookee, no touchee," I tell 'em upfront, like they'd even think about laying a hand on someone who could break them in half without a second thought. "We've gotta save that for 2007 (when I'm 18.)"
But I'll do just about anything else for 'em. Pose for 'em, lift for 'em, even jack off for 'em. The nice thing about being 13 is that I can do it over and over and over and over again.
So what do my parents think about all this, you ask? Well, I never knew my dad -- he must have been some kind of genetic freak because my mother sure as hell isn't. Not that she can remember -- I think her brain was fried before I ever came along. (Come to think of it, maybe THAT had something to do with how I am...)
So, yeah, I admit it, I'm the breadwinner in the family. A modeling career never hurt anyone, even if I only ever model for audiences of one. A thousand bucks an hour is good money and if they want to splurge on some extras, well, like I said, I've gotta lotta splurge in me. That's ANOTHER thousand dollars a pop. (Most I ever got in one session was $20,000, which was 3 hours of posing and 17 splurges. A nice nest egg for college, right?And the paramedics took good care of the guy...)
There's more, of course, like always being hungry and that constant lowgrade burn that tells me my muscles are getting stronger and bigger. Not to mention that little zing when I get up every morning, that "fuck yeah!" sensation that tells me I'm just a little bit better, a little bit stronger, a little bit more built than I was when I went to bed the night before.
You wanna know more?
You know where to find me.
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