After every workout, Billy and I went to his house where he ate a huge muscle building snack and a protein shake. Then he took off his tight T-shirt and made me take off mine so that we could compare our bodies in the mirror in his bedroom, just like we had done after the first day of working out. After just one month, it was really unbelievable how much muscle Billy had packed on his body compared to me. At 125 pounds, Billy was 25% heavier than my puny 100 pounds and all that hard muscle really made him look like a young Greek god next to my little boy body. With his short blond hair, steel-blue eyes, sparkling white teeth and boyishly handsome face he was more beautiful than any picture of a young warrior I had ever seen. "Feel my fucking muscles, Josh. I'm already more than twice as strong as you are, you little dweeb," said Billy, as I felt his rippling pecs, delts and arms with my little fingers. Billy had absolutely no hair on his body, except for some blond hairs that were starting to grow in his crotch, and he looked very much like a 12 year old boy except for his incredible muscles. "Yeah, Billy," I said. "I can't believe what's happened to your body. Your muscles are so fucking big and strong. I wish I had muscles like you." "Well, you don't and I do, wimp-boy, and I'm going to show you just how strong I am," said Billy. He grabbed my arms and threw me to the floor.

We wrestled together on the floor, and Billy easily pinned my shoulders to the floor again and again. He liked to toy with me, letting me get up and then forcing me down again with his powerful body, pinning both of my arms with just one of his. He would grab my chest in a bear hug, squeezing all the air out of my lungs with his muscular arms until my face was red and then drop me on the floor like a sack of shit. After pinning me on the floor, he would spin around and put his legs around my waist in a scissors hold. Then he'd squeeze his newly muscular young legs, crushing my little body like a grape. He could twist my arms and legs easily and he'd taunt me to try to get out of one of his vice-like holds, but of course I couldn't. "Hey, Josh, are your little legs too weak for my big fucking arms? Yeah they sure are!" he said as he bent my leg back with the sheer force of his arms. My quads were weaker than his biceps. He really loved to show off his big muscles and his overpowering strength by crushing his weak little friend. And even though I didn't really have any choice in the matter, I actually kind of liked being crushed by Billy's powerful muscles just as much as Billy got off on crushing me. We wrestled like this after almost every workout. I could tell that Billy was getting stronger after every workout. His strength just wouldn't stop increasing. After he had had his kicks dominating me, he would sit on my chest and flex his sweaty arms like the young victor that he was. He knew who was the boss. This was my favorite part, because I got to reach up and feel his big hard bulging biceps, his hot wet sweaty round striated pecs, his flaring slab-like lats, his thick traps, his powerful wide muscular rippling delts, and his steel hard corrugated eight-pack abs. I couldn't believe that my friend had turned into such a musclegod in such a short time.

. Sometimes we armwrestled too. Billy's mom liked to armwrestle and challenged both of us every week. Well, Billy beat his mother in armwrestling after only three weeks of lifting. By then he had put on 25 pounds of muscle and he was strong! His bicep wasn't quite as big as his mother's, but it was a lot harder from his intense training so he was stronger. After his mother lost the match, she asked him to flex his arm and she felt his big, round bicep. "Billy, I can't believe how much you've grown in just three weeks. You're now stronger than me already and I think you're going to be stronger than your dad. I'm really proud of you, Billy." Billy smiled and flexed his lats. They flared out like wings. He was amazing. Of course, his mother could still beat me easily in armwrestling. And Billy could beat me so easily it wasn't even funny. He could now beat me when I used both of my arms against just one of his muscular young arms. Billy was now the musclestud of his house and the ruler of me.

Billy loved to test his strength at school, too. At lunchtime he would walk up to some kid and challenge the kid to armwrestle for the kid's lunch. Billy was always hungry. He brought lots of healthy food for his own lunch, but he could always eat more. So he'd walk up to some kid who had a good lunch and make the kid armwrestle with him. There really wasn't any choice for these kids. If Billy wanted to armwrestle with you, then you'd better do it. One kid refused when Billy challenged him to a match. "What, are you chicken, big guy?" said Billy. "Are you afraid of what my arm might do to yours? Don't worry, the worst that can happen is that your arm will break when I smash it into the table." Bill then wrapped his hard, baseball bicep and writhing, muscular forearm around the kid's neck, crushing his windpipe so that he couldn't breathe . After about 30 seconds of this punishment, the kid finally agreed to armwrestle Billy and of course he lost. Billy seemed to smash his arm to the table extra hard.

A couple of times Billy challenged some total nerds just for kicks and it was really funny to see their eyes bulge out when Billy flexed his biceps and triceps just before the match started. Then he would toy with them for a minute or so, letting them push his muscular arm down a bit before he crushed their puny arms to the table with a surge of brutal power as if they were third grade girls. "Thanks for the lunch, dweeb," said Billy as he grabbed the little wimp's lunch and started wolfing it down. The kid may have lost a lunch, but he had a muscle experience that would last a lifetime.

Billy never took a kid's lunch more than once and everyone in the lunchroom loved to watch Billy's muscles ripple as he conquered his opponents, so nobody complained to the principal. Most of the time Billy chose jocks for these matches so that he could test his strength against some real muscle. Billy was now stronger than most of the jocks and he loved to show them. Sometimes one of the stronger jocks would put up a good fight, but Billy always won, except for one time. That one time was a big 9th grader who also lifted weights. Billy had beaten every boy in the 7th grade in armwrestling and was now challenging 8th and 9th graders. The match with the 9th grader was a real struggle. The biceps and shoulders of both kids bulged with power as their arms went back and forth. Billy's muscles were red from all the blood that was engorging them and the fibers and veins were throbbing with strength. The 9th grader wasn't as cut as Billy but he must have outweighed him by 20 pounds. Finally the 9th grader let out a big grunt and gradually forced Billy's arm to the table. Billy had lost his first armwrestling match. Well, the 9th grader's victory didn't last too long, because two weeks later when Billy had gained another 10 pounds of brutally strong muscle, he challenged the 9th grader again and won. The 9th grader just couldn't keep up with Billy's rapidly growing body.

After a month of lifting, Billy changed from a beginner's routine to an advanced routine. He skipped the intermediate routine because he was sure wasn't intermediate. In his new routine, Billy trained five days a week, Monday through Friday, concentrating on a different muscle group each day. Each muscle group got an entire week's rest, giving it plenty of time to allow the muscles, fueled by the tremendous amount of high-protein food Billy was eating, to grow much bigger and stronger for their grueling workout the next week. Billy worked each muscle group with incredible intensity, pushing his rippling muscles to complete failure with each workout. But Billy's muscles were just like Billy. They were tough. They loved being challenged, and after being worked to failure, they glowed with power, the pumped muscles engorged with musclebuilding blood. Billy's tan skin glistened with healthy jock-boy sweat. As Billy's muscles rested after their brutal workout, they soaked up the protein from his blood and grew ever bigger and stronger for next week's challenge. One other change: Billy's mother bought him some creatine. She had read that creatine helps the muscles grow even faster and she saw that her son really had the genetics - her and her late husband's genetics - to build big muscles, maybe even bigger muscles than her husband had. So she bought him a big supply of creatine to give him even more help to become a real man, a muscular young man who could totally dominate anyone he wanted. She was so pround of her son the muscleman.

Its hard to believe but Billy worked out with even more intensity and ate even more food and supplements. On Monday Billy worked his shoulders, doing six sets of four exercises with such intensity that all three heads of his delt muscles literally popped out from his shoulders, forming striated cannonballs of muscle. On Tuesday, he did arms, six sets of four exercises for biceps and the same for triceps. He also did two exercises for his forearms. When he had finished those sets, his arms were pumped and red, the fibers literally bursting through his skin and the veins pulsing with fresh, musclebuilding blood, and his forearms writhed like snakes. On Wednesday he worked his chest. Every week, Billy was able to add 10 to 20 pounds of weight to his bench press. His chest just exploded with muscle and power. He did six sets of bench presses, incline dumbell press, decline dumbell presses, flyes, and parallel bar dips. When Billy and I started lifting, neither of us could do one parallel bar dip. Now Billy was doing six sets of ten with up to 50 pounds of weight hanging from his narrow hips. (I could eke out 2 dips total.) On Thursday, Billy trained his back. Pullups were now easy for Billy and he did lat machine pulldowns for sets and reps with much more than his bodyweight. He did six sets of deadlifts and the ridges of muscle that sprang up on his lower back were incredible. Friday was leg day, and Billy's leg routine was truly brutal. He did squats, leg presses, leg extensions, leg curls, lunges and calf raises. Six sets of each exercise to total failure. When he was finished, his legs bulged with striated muscle, the veins coursing under his thin skin and the individual fibers crisscrossing his quads.

Billy worked his abs at the beginning of every workout. They looked like a hard, corrugated steel washboard. They looked even more impressive because Billy had such a narrow waist and hips. The contrast between his broad, muscular shoulders, flaring lats, bulging chest and his narrow waist and hips was truly stunning.

After a month of this grueling routine (only 2 months total of lifting weights), Billy had gained another 25 pounds. He now weighed 150 pounds and even more remarkable he had grown still another inch in height, so he now stood 5'7". He was now five pounds heavier than Mark and Brad, who had only gained a total of 5 pounds during the 2 months. And since Billy was an inch shorter than Mark and Brad, he was now actually more muscular than they were.

I'll never forget the time during Billy's second month of training - he probably weighed about 145 - when he humiliated Mark and Brad for the first time, the first of many humiliations that those two formerly arrogant 9th graders were going to endure. Mark and Brad were doing bench presses. They were trying lift 175 pounds, which would have been a new record for both of them. Well, they couldn't do it. Each time they needed a spot to lift the heavy bar back up. It was chest day for Billy and he knew that he was a lot stronger than he had been the week before. He had been waiting for a chance to show up Mark and Brad and he knew this was it. He warmed up with a quick set of 50 pushups. Then he swaggered over to the bench that Mark and Brad were using. I followed him in tow, since I was his spotter. "Hey, dudes, is that weight too heavy for you big 9th graders? Here, lets see what this little 12 year old can do." Without even asking permission from Mark and Brad, who stood there speechless looking at Billy's buffed muscles, Billy got on the bench and under the 175 pound bar. I stood behind the bench, ready to spot. Billy lifted the bar off the rack and slowly lowered it to his chest. Then with a primal grunt he pushed the heavy weight up without any hesitation at all. Then he proceeded to pump out another 9 reps without a pause. He never needed my spot. After his last rep, he crashed the bar onto the rack and leapt off the bench. He walked right over to Mark and Brad and flexed his pecs. The red, blood-engorged muscles bulged with power. It seemed like the fibers were just going to pop out of his skin. His delts and arms were also rippling, with his veins surging with blood. "Nice warmup," said Billy. "Now I think we know who's hit a sticking point in this gym and who hasn't. I hope you enjoy getting your asses kicked by a 7th grader, fuckheads. You guys are toast and you know it. By the way, I'm using this bench now. Get the fuck out of the way."

Billy bumped his big, pumped chest into Mark and literally pushed the 9th grader out of his way. He was now standing right between Mark and Brad. Without warning, he grabbed Mark's upper arm with his right hand and Brad's upper arm with his left hand and squeezed really hard. Billy's forearms were incredibly strong and his thick, powerful fingers drove right into Mark and Brad's biceps. Even when the muscular 9th graders tried to flex their biceps, Billy's fingers just kept digging in deeper. Both Mark and Brad started yelling in pain. Suddenly, Billy let go, and wrapped his arms around their necks. He contracted his throbbing biceps with incredible force, quickly cutting off the windpipes of the muscular kids who were now under Billy's total control. He dragged them around the weight room for everyone to see. "Hey look," said Billy. "I'm wiping up the floor with you two assholes, just like I said I would do. Just think, next week I'll be even bigger and stronger I'll be able to do even more shit to you guys. I'm going to have a lot of fun this year!" Then Billy dropped the two gasping boys on the floor and walked back to the bench. Mark and Brad were too stunned by Billy's aggressiveness and strength to do anything except stand there in shock. They were intimidated and they were afraid of this suddenly strong 12 year old kid with the attitude and the god-given ability to get bigger and stronger every week. He sure wasn't a dweeb anymore and it was clear that this musclekid was going to zoom by them in size and strength. Billy was putting 1/2 inch of muscle on his upper arms and 1 inch of muscle on his chest EVERY WEEK! Every week his could curl 10 more pounds and bench press and squat with 20 to 30 more pounds. Billy's young body was just exploding with muscle. Mark and Brad weren't stupid. This 12 year old had overtaken them in size and strength in less than eight weeks and was getting bigger and stronger by the day. They knew a superior youth when they saw him. They knew that they were no longer going to be able to do anything to stop whatever Billy wanted to do to them. They were at Billy's mercy, and there was not going to be a lot of that. Oh how the tables had turned. Billy had now conquered every kid in the whole school. He could beat up everybody. He was the alpha male and he loved it.

After showing who was the new king of the weight room to Mark and Brad, Billy swaggered over to the bench that was now his. He owned that bench and every other thing in that weight room that he wanted to use, whenever he wanted to use it. Every kid now knew that. "Put on another 10 pounds," Billy ordered as he got under the heavy bar, and I dutifully put a 5 pound plate on each side of the bar. He cranked out 10 reps with 185, needing only a light spot for the last two. "Ten more pounds, Josh," said Billy, as he flexed his big, muscular, sweaty chest in the mirror. He could feel the power in his muscles. Mark and Brad stared in amazement. Billy was now going to bench 195 pounds, 20 pounds more than his maximum the week before, and 20 pounds more than the weight Brad and Mark couldn't lift. He did four more sets of grueling bench presses with this heavy weight, starting with eight reps and finishing up with only three reps in his last set with a spot for the last two reps. Talk about intensity! His pecs were just plain devastated by the incredibly heavy and intense bench presses. They were sweaty, pumped and glowing with red blood surging through the hard fibers. A normal boy or man would have been so exhausted he would have quit right then. But Billy wasn't a normal boy and his throbbing muscles still had plenty of energy to work out. Billy did six sets of incline dumbbell presses, decline dumbbell presses, flyes, parallel bar dips with weights and pullovers, with much heavier weights than he had used the week before. At the end of this brutal chest workout, his pecs looked like striated red bulging masses of incredibly shredded dense pumped muscle. And those muscles were going to respond to that heavy, grueling workout by growing bigger and stronger so that they would be able to handle even heavier weights next week. What a feeling for Billy, knowing that his body was responding to the challenge of the weights by continuously getting bigger and stronger. He felt like superman, almost like a young god, and he had good reason since all the kids seemed to worship him and his buff muscles.

After that workout, Billy and I went to my house. Billy was really stoked from proving that he was stronger than Mark and Brad and he was really hungry. He ate a couple of turkey sandwiches and then spotted a can of MetRx on the kitchen counter. It belonged to Jeff, my 16 year old brother who was a junior in high school. Jeff had been lifting weights on and off for about 2 years, trying to put on some muscle, but like me he just wasn't very successful. He was 5'11" and weighed 155, about 10 more pounds than Billy weighed at the time. Well, Billy mixed up about half of the can of MetRx and gulped it down. I still couldn't believe how much food and supplements that kid could eat. And it all seemed to turn into muscle! Anyway, we went up to my room to play games on my computer. After about 20 minutes, my door burst open and Jeff was standing there, obviously mad as hell. Jeff hadn't seen Billy since the beginning of school, so he must have thought Billy and I had the same skinny bodies, which I still did. Jeff was used to beating up me and Billy all the time. After all, he was four years older than us and a lot bigger. He didn't take any shit from his kid brother or his kid brother's friend. He kind of liked to pick on us, always finding some reason why he needed to punch us in the arm or gut.

"Which one of you little punks ate my MetRx?" yelled Jeff. "I'm going to pound your fuckin' puny asses right into the floor." Jeff stormed into room and raised his clenched fists, ready to punch us into oblivion. Billy and I had been sitting at the computer, so Jeff really hadn't gotten a good look at Billy. Slowly, Billy stood up and faced Jeff. Jeff kind of blinked his eyes because he could tell something was really different about Billy. But Billy was wearing baggy pants and a long-sleeve shirt, so Jeff couldn't really figure out at first what was different. He did notice that Billy's neck and traps were a lot thicker and his shoulders seemed to be a lot wider than mine. Then he noticed that there seemed to be two big bulges under Billy's shirt, bulges made by Billy's massive round pecs. Jeff just stood there, kind of frozen. Billy reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt from the top. As Billy unbuttoned the buttons, his bulging, muscular pecs and his hard, shredded abs were slowly revealed. Jeff's mouth dropped open. "Holy shit!" was all that Jeff could say. Then Billy took off his shirt, and Jeff now saw all of Billy's muscular torso - his striated cannonball delts, this thick traps, his flaring, slab-like lats, his big round pecs, his rippling, muscular arms and his hard, washboard abs. Even though he was 10 pounds lighter and four inches shorter than Jeff, he was so much more muscular than Jeff that at 12 years old he made my 16 year-old brother look like a wimp.

Billy looked at Jeff right in the eyes and said, "I ate your fucking MetRx, asshole. What are you going to do about it?" Jeff's eyes tightened. I could tell he was furious. He had been used to beating up me and Billy and his brain hadn't quite comprehended what his eyes were seeing - that Billy had packed on 45 pounds of hard, powerful muscle and was not the same little kid that Jeff had pounded in the past. In Jeff's brain, he was still the dominant one, the 16 year old who was going to now beat up the 12 year old who had eaten his MetRx. "You're going to pay for this, you little punk," yelled Jeff and he charged at Billy with all the force he could muster. He hit Billy on the chest with his shoulders, fully thinking that Billy was going to crash to the floor. Instead, Billy just took one step back with one muscular leg and stood firm as a rock as Jeff ran into him. Then, before Jeff had a chance to react, Billy grabbed Jeff's wrists and forced them straight up into the air. The two boys were now facing each other with Billy's strong grip forcing Jeff's arms into the air. I could see that Billy's arms were a lot bigger and a lot more muscular than Jeff's. Jeff was four inches taller than Billy, which should have given him some leverage, but Billy was in total control. Billy started forcing Jeff's arms back and down over his head and there wasn't anything Jeff could do about it. Jeff's shoulder joints started to hurt as the muscular kid applied more and more force. Jeff dropped to his knees, but this only gave Billy more leverage to inflict more suffering. Jeff cried out in pain, but this only made Billy apply more power. Billy forced Jeff's arms further and further back. Billy was almost tearing Jeff's arms out of his sockets. Finally, Jeff dropped to the floor in an attempt to escape from Billy's iron grip.

Billy let go of Jeff's arms, but immediately grabbed the 16 year-old under his armpits, jerked him up off the floor and pinned him up against my bedroom wall, lifting him about a foot off the floor with brute force. "You got a problem with me eating your fucking MetRx, you little pussy?" yelled Billy. "You think you can still beat me up the way you beat up your little brother? Well, in case you haven't noticed, asshole, I'm not a little kid anymore and I'm going to eat your fucking MetRx anytime I fucking want. And now I'm going to give you a little sample of what's going to happen to you if you ever try to fuck with me or Josh again." At that, Billy held Jeff in place against the wall with his left arm and punched him unmercifully about six times in the gut and chest with his rippling, muscular right arm. Billy's knuckles felt like piledrivers as they drove into Jeff's flesh, which was not anywhere near as hard or muscular as Billy's.

Then Billy threw Jeff to the floor and started wrestling with him, twisting his arms and legs into contortions that threw Jeff into incredible pain. Billy loved to wrestle. We wrestled a lot after Billy's workouts, with me always losing. But Billy never tried to hurt me too much, just enough to make me submit and acknowledge his total physical superiority over me. With Jeff it was different. Billy just unleashed himself, wrestling with total abandon and control, not caring in the least how Jeff felt about it. His young muscular body just thrashed the older kid, with pin after pin, and twisted limb after twisted limb. I watched Billy's back muscles writhe like snakes as he lay on top of my helpless brother, twisting Jeff's arms with incredible force. His wide lats tapered down to incredibly narrow hips and his lower back muscles looked like two thick ridges of muscle. His round, muscular butt bulged up under his levis. Quickly, Billy spun around and wrapped his muscular legs around Jeff's chest in a deadly scissors hold. Billy locked his ankles and started squeezing his thick, strong legs. I could see his bulging quad muscles pushing out the fabric of his baggy jeans. Billy's legs had gotten unbelievably strong - able to squat with 300 and leg press 450 for reps - all at a bodyweight of only 145. Billy was now applying all that strength to crush the life out of my brother. The air was quickly squeezed out of Jeff's lungs, and as Billy's python-like legs crushed Jeff's ribcage harder and harder, Jeff began to gurgle and sputter. His face turned bright red. He was totally unable to breathe and if Billy had wanted, he could have easily killed my brother with just the sheer force of his muscular legs. Finally, Billy relaxed his scissors hold, jumped up and stood over Jeff, flexing his sweaty, muscular arms in victory.

Billy's wrestling with Jeff consisted of about five minutes of sheer physical domination and the infliction of incredible pain. Billy picked Jeff off the floor, bumped him with his big, bulging pecs, and said "Fuck off, you pussy punk. How's it feel to get beat up by a 12 year old kid? You're so weak you make me sick. You gotta to build some real muscle if you want fight a musclekid like me. But I can tell you're never going to do it. You're a sorry sack of shit. All the MetRx in the fucking planet isn't going to build you muscles like these." Then Billy flexed his incredibly hard, round biceps right in Jeff's face. Billy's muscles were sweaty and red from all the wrestling, the steel cords of muscle fiber literally bursting through his skin and the veins pulsating with blood. Jeff just stood there in total awe. Then Billy opened to door to my room, shoved Jeff into the hall and closed the door. "I don't think he'll be giving us shit anymore," said Billy as he walked toward me flexing his arms. I felt those huge monsters that had just conquered my 16 year old brother and nodded. Then Billy pushed me to the floor and let me feel all the incredible muscles of his body. •