James stood 6' 3" tall and weighed 240 pounds, all solid muscle. He was the biggest, strongest and most muscular 14 year old slave boy there had ever been at the plantation. He was already bigger and stronger than most of the slave men in their 20's and 30's. He was the Alpha male of all the Alpha males. Paul stared at James's incredible body and his huge cock that was getting stiff as its young owner bragged about winning the contest and fucking the Alpha girl slave. "Yeah, I'm the biggest, strongest fucking boy slave there ever was and I'm gonna fuck the shit out of anyone I want," said James. He looked at Paul and winked. Paul's cock was a stiff as a pipe under his tight underwear as he looked at James's incredibly muscular body and listened to his cocky bragging. James looked down and saw the little bulge under Paul's pants. He smiled. Then he reached down and grabbed Paul's cock with his big right hand. "You gettin' turned on, white boy?" James said with a smile. "Yeah, I know you are. You always do, don't ya? Hey, I got an idea. I want you to come to the White Room when I fuck Susanna tonight. You been watchin' and feelin' my body all these years. You been seein' these muscles grow ever since I was 4 years old. You been watchin' and feelin' these muscles and this cock get huge. I know you're into it. Now you can watch this big muscle machine and this huge cock fuck the shit out of the finest girl on the plantation. And that's not the only thing that's gonna get fucked." James winked again. "You better be there!" James said this as an order, not a request. Paul gulped and nodded his head. James let go of the wimp's cock and flexed his enormous 20 inch upper arm in Paul's face. Reflexively, Paul reached up and cupped the huge, rock hard, muscle with his two hands. James's flexed biceps and triceps were so huge that Paul couldn't begin to get his hands around them. The bicep peaked to an incredible height, striated with fibers of muscle, with the two heads clearly defined. The triceps bulged in the back and on the bottom of his huge arm. Paul pushed his fingers into James's sweaty black skin, but he couldn't make the slightest dent in the rock-hard muscle. James straightened and flexed his arm several times, smiling as he watched the skinny little white boy admire his huge muscles. Finally he stopped flexing his arm and reached over and grabbed Paul's hand. He placed Paul's dainty little hand right on top of his huge 12 inch cock, which was now totally hard. Paul wrapped his little fingers around the thick, steel hard weapon. He gasped as he felt the enormity of the sex tool owned by this huge 14 year old boy. James smiled as the wimpy little white teenager felt his huge, hard cock. He whispered to Paul, "You'll get all the muscle and cock you can handle tonight." Then he winked and strutted away, accepting congratulations from all the other slaves for winning the contest and being the Alpha breeding slave. His stiff cock swayed proudly back and forth as he swaggered through the yard, the Alpha stud of all these incredibly strong and muscular slaves.

Paul smiled in anticipation of the evening as he watched James's muscle butt. He could hardly wait. He remembered back to when he had first met James. It was at a contest just like this one. Paul was only 6 years old and was just learning about his father's slave breeding program. He was watching the 8 year old slave boys compete and he was amazed at the muscularity and strength of these black boys who were only two years older than he was. After one of the wrestling matches, he turned around to walk away and immediately bumped into a young black boy who was standing behind him. Paul had bumped into the boy pretty hard, but the boy didn't budge. The boy was buck naked, just like all the other slave boys and girls. He was obviously younger than Paul and was about an inch shorter than Paul but his young body was already thick with muscle. "Sorry," said Paul for bumping into the boy. Paul was trained to be polite and he didn't yet realize he didn't need to be polite to slaves. "That's OK," said the young slave. "I didn't feel nothin'." Paul looked at the boy's muscular body. "You got a lot of muscle," he said. "How old are you?" The boy smiled proudly. "Yeah, I do, don't I. I'm only 4 years old, but I'm already stronger than a lot of the 5 year olds." Then, in a move that Paul would remember the rest of his life, the boy raised his right arm and flexed his bicep right in Paul's face. A big ball of muscle blasted up in his arm. Paul's eyes almost popped out of his head. The 4 year old boy's bicep was the size of a small orange. It was peaked, and underneath the boy's thin, black skin Paul could see the fibers of muscle twitching and flexing at their young master's command. "Feel it," said the boy. Paul reached up with his dainty while fingers and touched the boy's black skin. It felt like he was touching warm rock. He pressed in with his fingers but the muscle didn't give. Paul got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had never felt human flesh that was as hard as the muscles of this 4 year old slave boy. Then he wrapped his fingers around the ball of muscle and squeezed as hard as he could. He couldn't make the slightest dent in the rock-like mass. "Wow," said Paul. "That muscle is really big and really hard." The boy smiled confidently. Then in a sudden move, he reached over, put his hands under Paul's armpits and lifted the 6 year old white boy over his head with obvious ease. "My muscles are really strong, too," said the 4 year old as he held Paul over his head. Paul looked down and marveled at the boy's big delts and triceps, which were bulging with shredded muscle as they held him up effortlessly

Then the boy dropped Paul to his feet. He looked at Paul's pasty white face and skinny body. "I never been this close to a white boy before," said the 4 year old. "You look really weak. Here, you flex your muscle like I did. I wanna feel a white boy's muscle." Paul raised his right arm and flexed his bicep. Well, he tried to flex his bicep. You see there wasn't any bicep there to flex. His flexed arm looked just as mushy and flat as his unflexed arm. The black boy reach over and wrapped his fingers around the pasty white skin, which covered nothing but flab and bone. He positioned the tips of his fingers on top, just where the bicep should have been. Then he squeezed. Instantly, his fingers smashed through the flab and down to the bone. Bolts of pain surged through Paul's arm as the strong fingers of the muscular 4 year old crushed the squishy flesh like a grape. Paul tried to flex his bicep harder, but it was no use. His mushy little bicep was nothing to the strong fingers of this muscular 4 year old boy. The boy wiggled his fingers around, making the pain even worse. He probably didn't know how much pain he was causing, because his hard muscles had never allowed something like this to happen to him. Even through his pain, Paul couldn't help but notice the forearm muscles of the slave boy bulging under his black skin, applying the enormous power to his strong fingers. "Geez, you ain't got nothin' there," said the 4 year old. Paul nodded in agreement and then pleaded "Please stop." The muscular black boy looked into the wimpy white boy's pleading eyes , smiled, and then slowly relaxed his grip. "I never felt such weak muscles before," said the black boy. "What's your name, weak boy?" Paul looked at the confident slave boy, who was now subtly flexing his pecs, lats, arms and abs. He had virtually no fat on his body and all the muscles were showing in bold relief under his black skin. "Paul," he said. The black boy flexed his pecs and abs and ran his hands over the washboard of muscle of his abs and the bulging mounds of his pecs. "My name's James," he said. "Maybe we can be friends." Paul looked at the incredible body of the 4 year old black slave boy. He noticed that the boy's cock was already much bigger than his own. At age 6, he didn't fully grasp the significance of what he was seeing---a boy who had the genetics of a totally superior superman, but he really wanted to get to know this strong black boy. "Yeah," he said, "Lets be friends.." Then they smiled at each other.

From that day onward, the two boys, who couldn't have been more unlike each other, became playmates. Paul was absolutely fascinated by the muscles on James's young body. James was fascinated by Paul's white skin and, in a strange way, by his flabby body. He liked showing off how strong he was to this white weakling who was two years older than he was, while at the same time the white weakling loved watching James's displays of awesome strength and muscularity. A few days after their first meeting, they went out to a field, totally alone and away from others, to play. Their first game was a race. They raced about 100 yards, several times. James let Paul stand five, then ten, then 15 yards ahead of him for each race and even let Paul say go. Even with that advantage, James easily won race after race. Paul couldn't take his eyes off the muscular black body of the black boy as it pulled up to and then passed him with ease. The muscles of his butt, thighs and calves bulged as they powered his strong legs ahead at great speed. After each race, James would flex his legs and say "Feel those mothers, white boy. Feel those strong mothers that just whipped your little white ass." Paul would reach down and feel James's bulging leg muscles, running his little fingers over the hard, rock-like muscle. He even felt his firm round ass, which bulged with hard muscle. James smiled. He knew he was a stud.

He ran up to a tree and grabbed on to a branch, facing Paul. Immediately he started doing pullups. Pullup after pullup. Paul walked up and stood right in front of James, staring in awe at his rippling muscles. He was amazed at how strong this boy was. He himself couldn't do even one pullup, and here was this 4 year old black slave boy cranking them out like they were nothing. He marveled at how wide James's lats got when his arms were fully extended. They flared out from his body like wings. Then when he lifted his body up, his lats and biceps exploded as they flexed, powering up his muscular body with ease. James looked down at Paul and smiled as he saw how entranced the white boy was as he watched his display of muscular power. Paul's eyes were fixated on James's torso and arms, so much muscle and so much strength packed on to a 4 year old's body. Finally, after about 20 pullups James dropped gracefully to the ground. He walked up to Paul and flexed his arms, which were now totally pumped and bulging with muscle. He also flexed his lats, which flared out like wings, big slabs of muscle. James didn't say a word. He let his muscles speak for him. "Wow," said Paul. "That was incredible. I can't do any pullups at all and you just did 'em like they were nothin'." James smiled. Paul reached over and ran his fingers over James's flexed arms and lats, marveling at the size and hardness of the flexed muscle. James's black skin was covered with a thin layer of sweat, which made the muscle stand out in even bolder relief. The muscle was hard, much harder than any human flesh Paul had ever felt before. Paul just kept feeling James's body with his mouth open. James was grinning with pride the whole time. Finally he said "I got a lot of muscle, don't I." Paul gulped and nodded in total agreement.

Then James dropped to the ground and started doing pushups. Paul counted out loud as his young black friend pumped out the reps. He reached over and felt James's pecs, delts and triceps as the muscles worked. "Wow, those muscles are big and hard," said Paul. James smiled and said, "Yeah, I know. And they're gettin' bigger and harder all the time." James finished 50 easy reps and stood up. He bumped his pecs into Paul's chicken chest and said "Feel 'em, white boy." Paul reached up and felt the round, hard, young, bulging muscle of James's pecs. Even at the young age of four, hard, striations of muscle fibers were bulging in James's flexed chest. The muscle was warm and his skin was covered with light sweat. James had no fat at all on his body. The muscle came right up to his thin black skin. His nipples pointed straight out, forced out by the hard muscle underneath. Paul just kept running his hands over the muscular chest of this strong black slave boy. Then James dropped to the ground again, ready for another set. "Put your hand on my back and make it harder," he said. "Regular pushups are too easy for me." So Paul put his hand on the black, sweaty skin of James's back and pushed down. James did a pushup so easily it was incredible. "Push harder," he ordered. So Paul pushed down as hard as he could and James cranked out 10 pushups, kind of groaning during the last 3 slow reps. When he finished, he leapt to his feet and grinned. "That was great!" he yelled. "That really made my muscles work hard. They really got big and hard." He held his hands against his hot, throbbing pecs. "You're gonna help me get big and strong, white boy. By the time I start lifting weights at 7 years old I'm gonna be way bigger and stronger than all the other slave boys. I just know it I'm already bigger and stronger than them, and I'm gonna get way bigger and stronger. And you're gonna help me do it." James was stoked. After feeling the muscles bulge in his pecs, he reached over and felt Paul's chest. All he could feel was bone, covered with a layer of fat. "Fuck, you ain't got no muscle at all. That ain't normal havin' no muscle at all. All us slave boys got muscle. Its normal for boys to have muscle. I just got more muscle than the other boys my age. But you're really puny. You're a fuckin' wuss. I wanna see how much of a wuss you are. Get down and do some pushups. I wanna see how many you can do."

James literally pushed Paul to the ground. Paul knew it was pointless to argue with this musclekid, so he got into the pushup position. Then he tried to do a pushup. He pressed down on his hands as hard as he could, but he couldn't make his body leave the ground He was too weak to do even one pushup. James looked at him in disbelief. "Come on, Paul," he said. "Just push yourself up. Its easy." Paul tried again, this time straining with all his might. James reached over and felt Paul's little arms and bony shoulders, arms and shoulders that had no muscle at all. Finally Paul gave up and collapsed on the ground. "Geez," he said. "You are so weak. Not even one pushup. And puny too. Just bone and a little flab. I never met anyone before who was so weak and skinny. Hey, roll over and do some situps. Anyone can do situps. Even you, I bet." Paul rolled over and put his hands behind his head. He pulled on his flabby abs and managed to raise his torso off the ground one time. "Way to go!" yelled James. Then Paul lowered his torso and barely managed to do one more situp. Then he collapsed on his back. James laughed. "What a fuckin' wuss," he said. "Two fuckin' situps." He jammed his fingers into Paul's midsection, feeling nothing but soft, flabby flesh. "Boy, you ain't got no muscle there either, do you boy? You're just a total white wimp. Here, watch this."

At that, James laid down on his back and started cranking out situps. He did them so fast he was doing more than one per second. Paul got on his knees and watched James's shredded abs in awe as they powered his muscular torso up and down with ease. The muscles looked like a corrugated washboard, a black washboard of muscle. Living rock that pulsated with power as it flexed. The muscle undulated under James's thin black skin, which was glistening with a thin layer of sweat. After about 60 reps, Paul placed his fingers on James's abs. They felt like solid steel. Warm steel. Paul pushed in on the steel-like muscle fibers, which were pumping away, and he couldn't make the slightest dent in the wall of muscle. James kept on cranking out the situps, looking at Paul and smiling as he saw the weak white boy admire the sheer power and hardness of his ab muscles. Finally after 200 straight reps, James stopped the situps and got on his knees across from Paul. "I can do more than that," he said. "My gut muscles are really strong. A lot stronger than yours, huh, white boy?" James's abs were so pumped and shredded they looked like they had been cut with a knife. He had a perfect 8 - pack, and each row of corrugated muscle stood out in bold relief, dripping with sweat. His oblique muscles slashed in from his hips to his crotch. He was wearing only a pair of shorts, hanging really low, which revealed the bottom of his incredibly muscular abs and his slashing obliques.

James looked down proudly at his rippling abs. He flexed them and the muscles got even more ripped, looking like a corrugated washboard of iron on his 4 year old body. "Punch me in the gut, Paul," he said. "See if you can hurt my gut muscles." Paul looked at James's rippling abs in awe. "Come on white boy, lets see what ya got," taunted James, as he flexed and unflexed the undulating muscle. "I can punch real hard. I can punch through lots of boys' gut muscles 'cause my shoulders and arms are so strong. I win all the fights I get into 'cause I'm stronger than the other boys and my muscles are so hard they can't punch into me. Their punches just bounce off my hard muscles. James flexed his abs and pecs, showing off how hard they were. Paul shivered as he watched the muscles flex into a brick wall of muscle. "Come on, white boy. Let's see what you can do to this little black boy," taunted James again. Paul made his right hand into a fist. This was going to be the first punch in his life. He had never hit another kid before. He had never been in a fight. He was a total wimp. He pulled back his arm and punched James as hard as he could, right in the middle of his shredded abs. "Smaaaaccck!" Paul felt a bolt of pain surge through his hand. It felt like his fist hit a brick wall. A brick wall of muscle. His hand really hurt. James started laughing. "Geez, you're weak. I could hardly feel that. That felt like a little 2 year old girl's punch. My gut muscles didn't even get dented by that little punch. Try it again. And make it harder." Paul looked at his throbbing right hand. He couldn't use that one. So he made his left hand into a first, pulled back his arm as far as he could, and hurled his fist into the flexing abs of the muscular black boy. "Smaaaaaccccccck!!" Another surge of shooting pain went through his hand as it recoiled from the rock-hard wall of muscle. "Ha ha ha ha ha," laughed James. "Looks like my hard black gut muscles are way stronger than your weak white fists. You ain't nothin' compared to me." At that, James stood up over the kneeling Paul and flexed his arms, pecs, lats, abs and legs. Paul looked up in awe at the flexing muscle. He would be in awe of James's muscles for the rest of his life. He could only imagine what damage James could do to his flabby body if the muscleboy had chosen to punch him in the gut the way he had done to James. But James didn't do it. He knew Paul was a little weakling compared to him. He knew if he punched the little weakling with his powerful fist that fist would smash deep into the weakling's soft, flabby gut. But he didn't want to hurt the white boy. He wanted to keep the little weakling as his friend. And Paul sure wanted to stay friends with this incredibly strong and muscular black boy. They were complete opposites but they liked each other.

Paul got up and stood face to face with James as he flexed. James was a little shorter than Paul, but he weighed a lot more and he was all muscle. Paul couldn't help himself and he reached over and ran his little hands all over James's flexing muscles. James didn't seem to mind at all. He liked having his muscles admired by this skinny white boy. Paul felt James's biceps and triceps as they bulged in his flexing arms. He felt those big delts that were strong enough to lift him up off the ground with ease. He felt James's bulging pecs, those hard round muscles bursting out of his chest, pushing his erect nipples proudly forward. He felt James's big lats, the wide slab- like muscles that bulged out on his back like wings and tapered down to his narrow hips. He felt James's hard, shredded abs, muscles that were so strong and hard they felt like solid rock when he tried to punch them. Paul ran his fingers into each bulge and crevice of the black boy's washboard of muscle. Then he leaned over and felt James's big quads and his firm, round muscular butt. Not only was James incredibly strong, he was incredibly fast. He had an enormous quantity of fast-twitch muscles in his body, muscles that made his strong body the body of an incredible athlete. James had a big grin on his face as he watched the white boy go crazy over his muscles.

Suddenly James wrapped his arms around Paul's chest and pushed him to the ground. "Let's wrestle," he said, as he laid on the weakling's body and easily pinned his little stick arms over his head. Paul nodded his head and tried to escape. James laughed at his feeble efforts. Then he relaxed his hold and let Paul squirm free. Paul attacked James and pushed him down. James was grinning as the skinny white boy maneuvered himself on top, grabbed James's arms and pushed them down to the ground in a perfect pin. Paul applied all his weight to those arms, making sure they were really pinned. "Hah," he said. "I got ya, you little black slave. I've got you pinned and there's nothing you can do about it. I'm your master, remember?" James was grinning so much he almost burst out laughing. "Oh, I almost forgot, master. You're just so big and heavy I guess there's nothin' I can do. But I think I'll push up on my arms and see what happens." At that, he started pushing up his arms. Paul was incredulous as he felt his whole body being lifted up by the sheer strength of James's bulging muscles. "Gee, 'master', you're not as heavy as I thought," said James. "You feel like a fuckin' feather." At that, James lifted his arms all the way up with Paul along for the ride. Then he lowered and raised his arms three more times, with Paul pressing down with as much force as he could. "Fuckin' strong!" yelled James as he literally threw Paul off his body, leapt up and then came crashing down on Paul's little chicken chest, smashing all the air out of his lungs. "The winnah," yelled James as he laid on Paul's vanquished body, his big, muscular arms pinning Paul's little stick arms to the ground. Then James sat on Paul's stomach and flexed his arms in triumph. Paul looked up at the bulging muscle in awe. "So who's the master?" yelled James as he squeezed his strong legs into Paul's body and looked at the bulging muscle in his flexed arms. Paul didn't hesitate with his answer. "You are, James. You're the master over me. I'm just a wimp compared to you." James smiled. "You got that right, white boy. And don't you ever forget it." He dropped his muscular body down on Paul again and started wrestling, twisting the weak boy's arms and legs in any direction he wanted. Paul loved it. The boys kept wrestling for another ten minutes. They both really enjoyed the one-sided wrestling match. Master and slave, the roles now completely reversed.

After that first fun time, Paul and James met each other several times a week to play. The "play" consisted of James working out and showing off to Paul how big and strong his muscles were getting. After each workout, the two boys would wrestle. Or more accurately, James would let Paul try to wrestle with him. James would pin Paul, then let Paul pin him and then pin Paul again. The boys enjoyed each other's bodies, Paul just marveling at the muscularity and strength of his young black friend and James always amazed at how weak and squishy his white friend was. At the end of their wrestling matches, James would sit on top of Paul's stomach, squeeze his muscular legs into Paul's ribs, and flex his arms, pecs, lats and abs. Paul would run his hands over the pumped, hard muscles, saying things like "Jesus, James, you've gotten bigger. Your muscles are big and hard. And I could tell you've gotten stronger. You just threw me around like a little toy. James would smile and nod his head. "Yeah," he would say. "You got that right, you weak little wimp. You ain't nothin' next to me." Then he'd drop down on Paul's flabby chicken chest and rub his hard, sweaty pecs all over the white boy's body. Paul would feel the hard muscle ramming into his body and just sigh.

Paul helped James get bigger and stronger. James couldn't start lifting weights until he was seven. He Paul helped him add extra resistance to his exercises. He would hold on to James's hips as the muscular boy did pullups, applying just enough force so he could squeeze out 10 reps. James did six sets of these weighted pullups and after the last set his lats were flaring out like wings, big slabs of pumped, rippling muscle covered with veins. His biceps were also incredibly pumped and shredded, the sinews of muscle looking like steel cords. After the grueling sets of pullups, James would do six sets of weighted pushups, with Paul pushing down on his back as he cranked out rep after rep, powering out 10 reps per set. James got to be so strong doing pushups that after less than a year he could do several reps with Paul laying on his back. Soon after that he was doing 10 full reps. Then 10 full reps for sets. All with an extra body laying on his back. He just got bigger and stronger every week. Paul would lay on his muscular back, feeling his hard, round musclebutt jamming into Paul's crotch. During the sets, Paul would hold onto James's shoulders or his pecs or his arms, feeling the hard muscles bulge and flex as they powered their owner's body and Paul's body up and down with ease. James liked it when Paul felt his muscles working. "Feel those big, black muscles, white boy. Feel how hard and strong they are. They're gonna fuck you up real bad." Paul smiled as he felt his friend's bulging muscles and thought about the wrestling match to come.

After the pushups, Paul jumped on James's back for the squats. James could do squats with Paul on his back from the day they met. His legs got so strong that in addition to having Paul on his back, he held onto a heavy rock. And he still cranked out six sets of 10 reps. At the end of a set, Paul would jump off his back and feel his bulging quads. James's legs had gotten real big and strong, just like the rest of his body. His legs felt like hard tree-trunks. James also did calf raises with Paul and the rock, and his calves bulged with two big heads of muscle. James had more muscle in one of his calves than Paul had in one of his thighs.

Situps were next, with Paul sitting on James's legs and James cranking them out by the hundreds. His abs were incredibly hard and shredded. On time he did 1,000 situps without stopping. After that amazing feat, his abs were so hot, so sweaty, so hard and so shredded that when Paul ran his soft little fingers over the corrugated muscle it felt like he was running his fingers over a wet, hot washboard. A washboard of black boy muscle.

Then came a series of 100 yard sprints, with James running so fast that he let Paul have a 20 yard lead and he still won easily. Paul could only do one sprint. He was exhausted after this. He just sat there and admired James's fast, muscular body as James proceeded to do 9 more sets of sprints. Besides being incredibly strong and fast, James had incredible endurance. At the end of these, James's whole body was totally pumped and covered with sweat. He then tackled Paul and wrestled him to the ground. The wrestling "match" was on, the two friends playing with each other's bodies and at the end James the victor flexing his rippling black muscles for the admiring white boy.

After James started lifting weights at age 7, he and Paul didn't have the workout parts of their playtime. James got an incredible workout with the weights. But they still got together a lot right after James had finished his lifting. They still did the situps together and the sprints. And sometimes they would still do the pullups and pushups. James got so strong that Paul could just hang on his narrow waist and James could do pullups with their two bodies. The weighted pushups were like child's' play for James. Paul would sit on James's shoulders so there was more weight directly over his chest and arms. Even so, James just cranked out the pushups. After all, he was now doing bench presses with heavy iron. And he was adding more weight to those bench presses almost every week. He was by far the biggest, strongest and most muscular or the 7 year old slave boys when they started lifting the weights. All his heavy workouts with Paul had given him incredibly big and incredibly strong muscles for a seven year old. Now when he could lift the weights, his muscles just exploded with even more size and power. He remained the biggest and strongest boy of his age throughout his youth. He was always the Alpha boy slave of his age group. •