Lil' Dude

«4»

By Richard Jasper

SEPT. 27TH

I think reality is finally setting in.

Up 'til now it's escaped my notice.

It just didn't occur to me what it all meant.

"You're fucking amazing."

That's what they told me today.

The guys in the gym, that is.

Right after I got through benching 405 lbs.

405 lbs.

That's four 45 lb. weights on each end of a 45 lb. bar.

I weigh 185 lbs.

That's more than twice my bodyweight.

"You're fucking amazing."

No.

*I* am fucking amazing!

This afternoon I got a lift over to Tarzhay and bought a full length mirror to go on my closet door.

"What do you need one of those for?" my ride asked. "You never wear anything but sweats!"

I bought a tape measure, too.

Now I'm looking at myself in the mirror. My shoulders are so broad I can't see all of myself at the same time unless I stand waaaay back from it.

I just measured my arms.

I've added another 1/2 inch to my biceps since Chris measured me on Friday.

18 inch guns.

On me!

A month ago I was a skinny geek, 5'11 and 140 lbs. Now I'm a 185 lb. musclestud. Somehow even my face is fuller and more masculine looking. And all that fur? Now I know what it's for -- on top of muscle it's totally fucking hot!

Do other people like it?

Do guys like it?

Does Chris like it?

God knows *I* like it.

I never thought I'd get a raging hard on looking at myself.

I was wrong.

SEPT. 28TH

The phone rang at 6:30 this morning.

"Yo, Lil Dude!"

It was Chris' deep sexy voice on the other end.

"Chris...? What the fuh...?"

"Amigo! No gym this morning, OK?"

*That* made me sit bolt upright.

"What?! What's the matter?" I nearly screeched.

"Nada, Lil Dude," Chris answered, chuckling.

"Remember when you asked when you'd get to see ME work out..?"

I gulped.

"Yeah," I answered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's time," he said.

"Meet me at the gym at 6 p.m."

I barely made it through my classes. All I could think of was lifting. The fucking gigantic pecs, the fucking awesome arms, all tht fucking muscle in motion.

I had to go back to my room after lunch. That helped a little bit, but not for long.

At 6 p.m. I met him at the gym. I was hoping that he wouldn't notice the chubby in my sweat pants.

Instead of leading me to the weight area as usual he pointed me to the locker room.

"Damn," I thought. "He's gonna get an eyeful!"

Instead he pulled out an ID card and swiped it through the reader attached to that door marked PRIVATE, the one I'd somehow never noticed before.

"Chris!"

"Big Dude!"

I heard a dozen or more deep, masculine voices call out.

It was another weight room, as big or bigger than the one upstairs, with just as much or more equipment, with *much* heavier weights. (I soaked all this up in a single glance...)

And there were at least a dozen guys present, all of them every bit as big and built as Chris. Some were taller, some were shorter. Some beefier, some leaner. Some furry, some smooth. All appeared to be his age or older.

"Yo, fellas," Chris hollered back at them. "I want you to meet Lil Dude, the one I've been telling you about."

They gathered around.

ALL of them were bigger than I am. The smallest was at least 220 lbs., the biggest must have been closer to 300 lbs.

Gulp.

"Uh, Chris," said one of the bigger ones. "He's not big enough."

Another added:

"And you know he's not *old* enough..."

I frowned.

"For what?" I asked.

"To join The Club," Chris said. Somehow I *heard* the capital T and C.

"The Muscle Club," said another.

"Lil Dude, here's the deal," the first one said. "To join the Muscle Club you've gotta be at least 220 lbs. and you gotta be at least 21. You're what, 18? And definitely under 200 lbs, right?"

I nodded.

Chris cleared his throat.

"But there have been exceptions," he pointed out.

"Yeah," the second one replied, "there was ONE. But that guy was a freak."

Chris chuckled.

"I wanna show you guys something."

He guided me over to the nearest flat bench.

He loaded on the weights.

"You ready, Lil Dude?"

I grinned back at him.

"Ready, Big Dude!"

405 lbs.

12 reps.

The first guy let out a whistle.

"That's fucking amazing!"

The second guy -- turns out his name is Reggie -- offered me his hand.

"You're a fucking freak, Lil Dude."

Chris winked at me.

"Like I said, Lil Dude."

I nodded.

"It's time," I added. •


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