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|Jim O'Toole was a farm boy. As an only child, he was recruited by his
father to help out around the farm from the time he was five. Feeding
the animals, moving bales of hay, milking the cows, whatever -- Jimmy
had to do it all.
Jimmy was a hard worker. From an early age, he was strong and that muscle helped with his chores. His father took advantage of Jimmy's strong body by giving him harder and harder work. By the age of 11, Jimmy was doing the work of an experienced adult farm hand.
In high school, Jimmy asked his folks for some time to play football. He had a reputation for being both a strong kid with the gym teachers, and a stud with the girls. Going out for the football team seemed like a natural thing to do. His father reluctantly agreed after Jimmy promised to keep up with his farm chores.
Jimmy met Susan while playing against a rival school. She was a cheerleader, and although they had different loyalties, they still fell in love. Susan was small, but very athletic. They married immediately after graduation.
It was a happy time, but the happiness would not last. A little over a year after their wedding, there was a fire on the farm. Both of Jimmy's parents died trying to save the animals. Jimmy's home was now a constant reminder of the accident, and he sold it. He used the money to buy a gym, and became a personal trainer. His strong body got stronger, and he began to compete in bodybuilding competitions. After winning the state championship, Jimmy and his wife celebrated. Nine month's later, their son Walter was born. He was named after his grandfather.
It was not an easy pregnancy. Walter was a big baby, and Susan began to hemorage after childbirth. The doctor's couldn't stop the bleeding, and Susan went into a coma. She died less than a week after Walter's birth.
Jimmy was crushed. His heart sank when the doctor's asked to see him about Walter.
"There's something wrong, isn't there?" Jimmy asked, the panic in his voice.
"No Mr. O'Toole," said the doctor, looking at a chart. "Exactly the opposite. Walter is very healthy. It's just that he has a genetic abnormality. Nothing to worry about. It's just that he doesn't produce a hormone to inhibit muscle growth."
"I don't understand," said Jimmy. "I ain't got much school'n."
"No need for concern," the doctors told him. "Your son will be a big, strong boy. That's all."
Walter grew up in Jimmy's gym. When Walter saw his Dad working out, he copied him and Jimmy encouraged him. By the age of three, Walter was doing bicep curls, squats and bench presses with perfect form. The doctor's were right. Walter was a strong boy.
Walter's world revolved around his father, and Jim's world revolved around Wally, as he was known. Jim encouraged Wally's playing with the weights. Jim ate six to eight meals a day, and Wally always ate with him. Sometimes, after an intense workout with his Dad, Wally would eat extra meals.
No matter how much Wally ate, he didn't get fat. His body seemed to convert food into muscle.
Wally was very competitive. As a child, he was so much stronger than his peers, he would accidently hurt them. In kindergarten, the teacher was always reminding him to be careful, "because of how strong you are." When Wally saw a couple first graders get into a fight, he tried to break it up but accidently broke one of the boy's nose. Even though, it wasn't Wally's fault, the boy's father was pissed, calling Wally a "freak of nature". Jimmy pulled Walter from school and taught him at home.
By the time Walter's peers were in first grade, Walter was curling 115lbs, benching 180 and squatting close to 300lbs. By the time he was seven, his 250lb bench press and 17 inch arms made him a star of the gym.
Jimmy's own bodybuilding career was taking off. He had won the state championship, then got his pro card. He needed to travel, and arranged to leave Walter with friends who could continue his schooling and workouts.
Wally needed a new training partner, now that his Dad was on the road so much. He was very popular in the gym, especially with some of the teenage boys, who envied his ability to gain muscle. Wally was always friendly, but the younger teens were just too weak to lift the heavy weights he needed to grow. Some of his Dad's friends offered to help him lift, but they already had training partners and most were stronger than Wally.
Wally decided to train alone, but his progress began to slow.
"What's wrong, Wally?" ask Ron, one of the high school kids who trained at the gym.
"I only gained pounds last month," pouted Wally. "I normally gain 2 or 3."
"Wally," said Ron, "you're already stronger than anyone I know. Your body has to have limits."
"Nah ah," said Wally. "My Dad use to really push me. I can't do it myself. I wish he didn't have to go away so much."
"I said I'd train with you."
Wally frowned. "You're a wimp, Ron. No offense, but", Wally raised his massive arm and flexed hard, "you just can't compete with my kid muscle."
Ron gulped, feeling wholely inadequate to Wally's powerful display of muscle. "Maybe I know someone who can," said Ron. "There's a new kid in school. He's pretty big. He's training at the school gym, and said he's looking for a training partner."
Wally shook his head. "Not another teen. All you guys..."
Ron interrupted. "No. You don't understand. He's big too. Real big. I heard him telling some girls that he's planning on entering a local powerlifting competition. I heard him say he has trophies and everything."
"Maybe," said Wally.
"Look. I'll talk to him tomorrow. What can it hurt to meet him."
The senior's name was Gregg, as Ron learned. He already was the state sixteen and under powerlifting champ, and had competed in some bodybuilding competitions. He had sixteen inch arms, and benched almost 300. When he heard about a seven year old almost as strong as he was, he laughed. "No way that can be true." He accompanied Ron to the gym just to prove him wrong.
Wally was already working out when they got there. Wally was wearing a sweatshirt covered in sweat. He seemed to be doing some sort of abstract dance, then he saw Ron. "Hey Ron," he said greeting them. "Can you give me a hand? I'm so pumped, I can't get my sweatshirt off."
Gregg snicked, but Ron went over to Wally. He gulped, hoping Wally hadn't heard Gregg before grabbing the boy's shirt. Wally raised his hands over his head, and Ron started to lift. The fabric was stretched taut over the boy's hard body, and the wet fabric clung to his skin. Wally twisted to help Ron, and the shirt gave way. Wally was wearing a white tank-top under the sweatshirt that strained at his powerful muscles.
"Holy shit," said Gregg as Wally lowered his hands and flexed his pecs.
Wally made a face and looked at Gregg. "No potty mouth," he scowled.
"Ah, Wally," interrupted Ron. "This is Gregg. I thought..." But before he could finish, Gregg was pulling his own shirt off.
"The kid is huge, but I still don't know," said Gregg. "Not sure he can give these guns a real work out." Gregg flexed his arms and smiled, looking at Wally.
Wally walked over to the gym's desk, and got a tape. He handed it to Ron. "Let's see?" said Wally with a smile.
Ron walked over to Gregg, who nodded his head. He flexed harder, forcing a vein on his peaked bicep to pulse. Ron wrapped the tape around.
Ron began to speak, but Wally interrupted. "Not before you measure mine," he said and flexed hard, forcing his huge peak high on his short arm. Ron gulped, his eyes darting between the two muscular youths. Wally certainly looked bigger, but was it just an illusion because of his smaller size? Ron wrapped the tape around Wally's bulging bicep.
"Shi..." he started to say, then thought better of it. "Shucks. Wally, you're at 17 1/4 while Gregg is only a little bit bigger than 16 and a half!"
"No way," Gregg said, unflexing and moving his hand to Wally's arm. "Holy f..."
"Potty mouth," Wally smiled at him.
"I mean," Gregg said, "it's like a rock. And you're what? Ten?"
"Way," said Ron.
"How much can you curl with that boulder?" Gregg asked.
"Did a couple reps with 135 last week," Wally said, pouting. "Should be more," he added with a frown.
"I do 150 with these," Gregg said with an air of superiority. "Kid, ah, maybe I can help you."
"Help me," Wally said with a skeptisism that a seven year shouldn't have. "All you big kids are wimps."
"Wimps!" Gregg said. He jumped at Wally, and before Wally knew it, Gregg's bicep was wrapped around his head. "Listen little bro'" Gregg said, rubbing his knuckle into Wally's head, "I'll noogie you until you apologize."
Suddenly, Gregg felt something harder than his bicep pressing into his arm. Wally began to flex his neck, and his hard, muscular neck was flattening the teen's bicep. The kid grabbed Gregg's arms with both his kid hands and began to pull. Gregg fought him, but Wally's two arms were more than a match against one of Gregg's. Wally pulled his head out and giggled.
"I like you," Wally said.
"You're not bad yourself, for a squirt," said Gregg.
Wally felt like he had found a big brother he had never had.
"So, wanna work out?" Gregg asked.
"I was just doing some bench presses." Wally pointed to his bench.
Gregg walked over to it, picked up a towel and wiped it down, then got under the bar. He did ten reps easily, before slowing down.
"Don't stop," Wally said. "Come on. Go for fifteen. I got you covered." Gregg did two more reps, before Wally spotted him and helped him eek out fifteen. Wally helped Gregg put the bar down, then Gregg got up.
"We'll put more weight on for you next set," said Wally, getting under the bar. He did six reps, and started putting the bar back.
"Nah uh," said Gregg. "You're going for ten." Wally did a seventh and began to struggle for eight before Gregg stepped in to spot him. Wally eeked out the ten.
Wally and Gregg pushed each other throughout the workout as Josh watched enviously. Josh struggled with his own 125lb bench press, watching Wally lift twice that much and Gregg almost half again more than that.
Near the end of their workout, while the two were doing cable cross-overs, he heard Wally shout with excitement, "All Right!" Turning, Josh saw that Wally's tank top had split down the center between his pecs. Wally's kid muscles looked as thick as a phone book against his small, ripped stomach. When he saw Gregg and Wally heading to the locker room, he finished his set and followed. Inside, he saw Wally and Gregg posing.
"Kid, you are swole!"
Wally jumped up and down with excitement. "I haven't been this pumped up since working out with my Dad." He ran over and gave Gregg a hug. "Can we work out again tomorrow?"
"Sure thing," Gregg said, looking down at Wally, then checking out his progress in the mirror. "I ain't had this good a workout in a long time. Squirt, you're really driven in there."
"My Dad always said you gotta work hard to grow. I want to have the biggest muscles ever!" bragged Wally as he hit a most muscular pose. Gregg did the same, but Wally's kid muscles looked bigger and harder than his teen muscle.
"Squirt, when you're my age, the girls are gonna go for you like bees to honey."
"I don't care about that," said Wally. "I just want muscle." Then he looked at Gregg. "You gotta girlfriend?"
"I gotta a couple of girls that like me, ya."
"You kiss and stuff like that."
"Ya, stuff like that," said Gregg, not sure where this conversation was going.
Wally just shrugged. "Maybe when I'm bigger, I'll like it to. But for now, I just like lifting and stuff." Wally grabbed a towel, and walked into a shower stall. He threw his sweat-soaked workout shorts into the locker room and turned on the water. Gregg joined him in the next stall.
Josh just watched from a distance.
Over the next year, it was clear Wally worshipped Gregg. When they weren't working out, Wally and Gregg would play video games. Gregg also taught Wally how to wrestle, although that might have been Gregg's way to show some superiority over the muscle-bound kid. Gregg was bigger than Wally, and the height advantage gave him the advantage in wrestling, although on more than one occassion, Wally proved that his kid muscle could do some damage to the bigger teen.
One day, while they were playing video games, Wally was looking through one of Gregg's bodybuilding magazines. He came across an article called, "Kid Hercules" which featured an eight year old named Tom Flannery. Wally's eyes widened at an eight year old flexing and posing, beating teens more than twice his age.
Gregg looked at Wally. "Oh, ya, I saw that. Looks like you got some competition. That kid Tom is pretty big."
Wally frowned. "I wanna be the biggest," Wally muttered.
"Oh, I'm sorry squirt." Gregg said, putting the video game controller down. "I bet you could beat that kid Tom any day."
Wally cheered up. "Do ya think so. I am strong," he said, making a muscle.
Gregg rubbed his hand over the granite peak, and nodded. "Yep, you are. Hey, why don't we have a posedown. You against Tom."
Wally nodded. Gregg grabbed his digital camera while while Wally shucked off his shirt and pants. Gregg had never really grown use to seeing a kid barely eight with the muscle of Mr. Olympia, but Wally still had an innocence about him that made Gregg want to protect him and his feelings.
"OK," said Gregg. "The first pose in the magazine is a double bicep." Wally struck the pose, his 17 inchers pushing high. Gregg snapped a picture. "The next pose is a side chest." Wally turned to the side, and sucked in his thin abs while pushing his meaty chest out and flexing hard. Gregg took the picture. The side tricep was next, followed by a front quad then a most muscular. The final picture was of Tom relaxed.
Gregg took the magazine to his computer and scanned in all of Tom's photos while Wally watched. He then downloaded Wally's pictures from his camera. As Gregg put the pictures side by side, Wally began to jump up and down with excitement. "I'm bigger. I'm bigger." he said. "Look at my bicep. It's bigger than his."
Gregg gulped. "Ya, it sure looks fuller and peaks higher."
"And look at my chest. My kid pecs are way bigger than his." Wally flexed his chest for Gregg to show him it wasn't some trick of the camera.
Gregg had to agree.
"And my legs look lots stronger than his," Wally beamed with excitement.
Gregg looked at the article. "According to this, you're out lifting him in all his lifts."
"I got real kid muscle!" said Wally. "Think my Dad will let me compete?"
"I don't think the next competition is for another nine months."
"Cool. I'll be even bigger then!" said Wally. "And you'll train me, won't you Gregg?"
Gregg nodded. "Sure little bro."
During the year after his victory, Tom was a media star. He wasn't sure he liked it. Photographers would come to his gym to watch him train. His parents had to defend themselves from concerned citizens who worried they were abusing Tom in some way. Still, Tom managed to work out hard. His body continued to grow. Chuck and Josh continued to train with Tom, but their progress seemed to lag behind the super boy.
As the bodybuilding contest approached, all three decided to enter. Chuck and Josh knew they had no hope of winning against Tom, but that didn't matter. Their reputations at school was enhanced simply by entering the competition. Besides, Chuck was determined to beat Josh this year.
On the day of the competition, nine year old Tom weighed 135lbs. He was solid muscle. His chest was 48 inches while his waist was barely 25. His 17 1/2 inch arms were shredded pipes, and his 28 inch thighs and 16 inch calves looked freaky on his 4 foot 11 inch frame. In the pump room, all the teens marvelled at the kid they knew would beat them.
In a corner, unnoticed, Gregg and Wally watched Tom. Wally was a late entrant, and wore sweats that weren't quite baggy enough to hide his magnificent kid body.
"He looks bigger than in the pictures," Wally whispered to Gregg.
"Ya," said Gregg, with a pang of jealousy. He couldn't claim to be use to being "smaller" than Wally, but now he felt smaller than Tom too.
"I'm scared," said Wally. "What if..."
"Don't worry squirt. You got him beat hands down," Gregg reassured him. Wally's smile let Gregg know that his confidence was more than appreciated. "OK. You ready? You gotta start pump'n up."
Wally nodded. He raised his hands over his head, and Gregg lifted off the sweatshirt, revealing for the first time Wally's tanned, 150lb body. A few weeks shy of his own nineth birthday, Wally was 4 foot 10. Gregg had measured his arms at 18 1/4 inches, and his chest at 50. His quads had just stretched the tape to 30 inches, while his calves were 18. And Wally still had a 24 inch waist.
Wally removed his sweatpants and stood in the speedos he was using as posers. Gregg brought him some fifty pound dumbells and he began to pump up.
"Fuck!" one of the other teens screamed. "Look over there." Suddenly, all the attention turned to Wally.
Wally continued to pump up, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tom staring. Tom continued to pump too, but he now knew he had real competition. Kid competition. Kid muscle competition.
Josh oiled Tom up, and Gregg did the same to Wally. As they waited, Tom came over to them.
"Hi," said Tom.
"Hi," said Wally.
"You're pretty big."
"Thanks. So are you."
"Ya, but I think you're bigger. How much do you bench?" asked Tom.
"I just got 375," Wally admitted, bouncing his pecs a bit.
"Wow. I can only do 315 for a few reps."
As they talked, both Gregg's and Josh's eyes darted between the two boys. There was no envy, no jealousy. It was clear to everyone that Wally was bigger and stronger than Tom, but Tom didn't care. In fact, the two boys seemed to have a bond between them. They had both grown up being the biggest and strongest, thinking they were alone. Now, they had met and that loneliness was gone.
When they were called, Wally and Tom walked on stage together. For each of the manditory poses, Tom flexed hard, but Wally flexed harder. Wally's bi's bulged bigger, his tris were thicker, his back wider and his pecs fuller. Wally's washboard abs looked denser than Tom's and his quads made Tom's legs look skinny. During the posedown, Tom and Wally jostled for attention, not like competitors, but like kids playing. The strain at trying to outflex Wally showed on Tom's face, but both boy's were beaming with pride and confidence.
In the end, it was Tom and Wally alone on stage. When Tom's name was announced in second place, he ran over to Wally and gave him a hug, lifting him up as the new champion. Wally hugged Tom back, their thick kid muscles pressing into each other.
"I'll beat you next year!" Tom said with a smile.
"Nah uh!" said Wally, knowing that he had made a new friend.
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