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Old July 8th, 2013, 05:44 PM
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Timmy's Fetish - Part II

8th Grade Summer

Two years later I was easily popping baseballs with Timmy – just to see his reaction. I didn’t keep it from my best pal that I was working out a lot and I even let him think that I had gotten pretty strong. He seemed to love testing my strength, so it was fun to push the envelope a little. I had never busted a baseball before, so I was open to trying it – mainly because I knew it would excite him so much.

“That baseball didn’t stand a chance with you, Bennett!”

He always called me by my last name, since that’s how our teachers referred to us at our private school. Timmy Rutgers had started working out with me from the beginning, so he had grown a little stronger and bigger, too – but nothing near my changes – especially the secret ones. He was cleaning up the juice and lemon leftovers on his hand – having busted the thing seconds after I demolished the baseball.

“Well, you abused the lemon pretty well, too.”

“Yeah, but I think you could have done the same with little effort! Your strength just keeps on growing, doesn’t it?”

“I guess.”

“You guess! You are lifting twice as much as me. I think you’re stronger in one arm than I am in my entire body!”

“Okay, now you’re just moving into fantasy world, Rutgers!”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s fun to dream that way!”

I sometimes got nervous around Timmy when he said wild things about my strength. For a few seconds my heart always started racing and I became fearful that I had gone too far – done something to completely show my full strength or accidently said something that gave myself away. It usually took a few minutes for me to realize that the guy just loved comic books and superheroes as much as I did. Timmy Rutgers absolutely loved to fantasize about a guy getting really big and strong – he was like any normal eighth grader that loved the Hulk, Thor, and Superman. I definitely struggled hard to not let on that I was actually turning into something similar.

“It’s summer dude and hot as hell, but you still work out in a sweatshirt. What’s up with that?”

“Um . . . I want to sweat a lot – you know, to burn off fat.”

“At this rate, you’ll be just skin an bones before the end of August.”

“I doubt it.”

“Hey dweebs, what’s happening? Hope you don’t mind, but I gotta lift. Need to build up a big pump before my date with Sandi tonight.”

My brother, Chance, was standing in the doorway and shucking off his shirt. Since the basement was shared space there was never really the opportunity for complete privacy. Chance often came down when Timmy was over and he never missed the opportunity to put us down. It wasn’t that Chance was a mean guy or even a bad brother – actually, he was the opposite. He always stood up for me if some guy was bothering me, took my side if I was debating something with mom and dad, and even said he loved me sometimes. It was just that he was in high school and needed to establish his rank in the household. He was a star on the football team and tended to think that acting like a brutish jock made him cool. I loved him very much, but he still drove me insane. I often daydreamed about what it would be like to surprise him someday with my hidden strength – thinking the look on his face would be worth the secret getting out, but I always decided against it. I figured it was good for him to always think he still out-powered his little brother.

“Dork-stin, come over here and spot me. I’m going to blast my chest for Sandi since it’s what she likes to hold on to the most. Hey, what happened to that baseball?”

“Um . . . it, uh . . . I mean…”

“I made Justin slam it with a sledgehammer – just to see what was on the inside.”

“Yeah? Well, you better clean up that mess before mom sees it. Damn, that tool really did a number on that ball. I bet the pop was pretty loud. Where’s the hammer?”

“Um . . . I put it back, already.”

“Rack up another forty on that side. I’m not going to warm up. There’s no time and I want to be tight for Sandi. Stay with me even on the first lift – I won’t need you, but it’ll make you feel important, runt.”

I obediently added another big plate; acting like it wasn’t a breeze to lift. It looked like there was almost two hundred and sixty on the bar – a weight I did for warming up, but I knew it was close to the max for Chance. My brother lay on the bench and then shook out his arms to the side. Timmy cleared his throat and caught my attention. He mouthed the words “hold the bar in place” and made a gripping motion with his hand. I immediately understood what he was suggesting. There was part of me that thought it was wrong to do, but I liked the idea that it would please Timmy. My brother grabbed the bar with both hands and I reached out with one hand, cupping my fingers around the thing in the middle and from underneath. The way that I rested my fingers on the top of the bar made it seem like I wasn’t doing anything but being ready to help – but I wanted to see if just my fingers would be able to give enough resistance to prevent Chance from benching the weight.

“Yeah, that’s it, bro – no need to use two hands cause I’ve got this easily. Watch and learn how a real man lifts, boys. Watch and learn.”

Chance took a deep breath and then pressed his palms against the bar. At the same time I pulled down with four fingers, with absolutely no strain showing in my hand. The weights didn’t move at all. Chance suddenly grunted loudly and his back bowed upward from the bench. I could tell my brother was using all of his strength and, yet, the power in just one of my hands caused him to not make the bar move even a fraction of an inch from its rests. Chance suddenly exhaled and quit pushing.

“What the fuck? This isn’t even close to my max weight. Well, I mean, it’s pretty close, but I’ve lifted more than this before. Let’s try again.”

“Want me to help you, Chance?”

“Hell no, squirt. I don’t need your help and, besides, you might hurt yourself.”

I forced myself to not smile. I didn’t want to get Chance angry. Again, he inhaled and then pushed with all of his might, but the bar didn’t budge. I held it in place with just my forefinger this time. I glanced over at Timmy and saw that he loved every second of the show – fully aware that I was preventing Chance from benching the bar upward.

“Maybe you should take off those last two forties, Chance.”

“Shut the hell up, Timmy. You know nothing about lifting. I’m the strongest guy in this room and it’s from years of solid weight training. You talk to me when you’re first string on the football team, okay dweeb!”

Chance shook out his arms and then re-grabbed the bar. This time I could tell he was using all of his remaining strength – having doubled his determination. Just to prove something to myself I only rested my pinkie against the bar. This time, Chance was able to lift the bar up about a quarter of an inch – clearly my pinkie was not yet as strong as my forefinger. After a few seconds of straining, however, the bar sank back into its holders with a light clank. My brother was breathing deeply and his chest, truly his most muscled asset, was heaving up and down. The resistance I had created actually did pump his pectorals up nicely, but the guy just couldn’t notice that. He was too baffled and embarrassed by the fact that he had been unable to push up the bar – especially a bar loaded with what was not even the heaviest he had lifted before. I couldn’t help but feeling a little proud of the confusion I had created in my cocky elder brother. He quickly sat up; his chest still rising up and down, and double-checked the amount on the bar. His face was priceless and Timmy was having problems containing his enjoyment of the situation.

“Hey Chance, did you eat today? Maybe you just need a little fuel.”

“Forget you, Timmy. I ate two huge meals today. There’s just something going on. Maybe I’m getting sick – yeah, I better go call Sandi and tell her I need to rest tonight. You punks keep it quiet down here since I’m going to need to get some shuteye.”

Chance stood up and seemed a little unsteady. He had clearly used a lot of his strength to try and lift the bar. He did look a little green around the gills and for a brief second I thought about telling him to try one more time and not adding my power to the bar, but he glanced at the weights one last time, shook his head, and then was out the door. Timmy fell to the ground holding his hands over his mouth as soon as Chance was out the door. My best friend was struggling hard to not laugh out loud. As soon as he was sure Chance was out of hearing distance he removed his hands and blurted out in a loud whisper.

“That was even better than the baseball, Justin! Man, did you see the confused look on his face. You freak! You only used your pinkie that last time didn’t you? I could tell. Oh man, that was so great. I can’t believe you were able to find that much strength! I know it helped that he loaded the bar down, but man-oh-man that was just incredible.”

“I kind of feel sorry for him, Timmy.”

“What? Are you crazy? He deserved it, Justin. He treats us like crap. Oh god, that was so hot! You are the man, Justin. I’m serious. I love how your one hand – no, your one finger – combined with the weight of the bar could prevent Chance from benching that thing. That was just the best thing ever! Oh crap, the look on his face was so awesome.”

Watching my best friend enjoying what I had just done made it worth it. I still felt a little sad for Chance, but seeing Timmy rolling on the floor with laughter pleased me a lot. Ever since I could remember my friend had been into strength – making me see every superhero film on the day it came out and then numerous times after that. We even had to go and see the really bad ones. It crossed my mind all the time that Timmy might have had bodybuilding magazines with sticky pages between his mattresses – like me - but we never even came close to talking about it. I never shared my secret desires with my best friend, not matter how comfortable I got from hanging out with Alex and Brandon. Having a gay birth brother that was married to a guy really didn’t make it easier to deal with my secret feelings while in junior high. Boys were still boys and anything foreign or misunderstood was available for scorn and abuse. I chose to believe things would be different some day – if not in high school, hopefully when I went off to college. For now, I kept my birth brother’s homosexuality secret even from my best friend. That, however, did not prevent Timmy from sometimes talking non-stop about how big Alex was when he looked at the pictures I had placed around my room.

Later, that night, as we were struggling to fight off sleep by eating lots of sugar and playing video games in my room, Timmy asked the same question he always asked after I returned from a weekend visit to Alex and Brandon’s house. I could have set my watch to his dependable inquiry.

“So, any new pictures of you and Alex?”

“You ask that every time I come back from there!”

“I can’t help it, man. He’ like a true superhero in my book. He looks like I want to look. I still can’t believe he isn’t a model or some kind of champion athlete. There’s no telling what kind of trouble I could get into if I had that kind of body and face. Come on, spill!”

“Okay, okay, there are a few on my dresser. I printed them out just for you. Take a look. I’m going to change for sleep.”

“You know, Justin, we are going into the ninth grade. You can change in front of me. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. It’s kind of creepy how you always change in the bathroom stall at school and in your bathroom here at your house. You’re not scared I’m going to attack you or anything, are you? It would bother me a lot if you thought I was . . . well, if you had bad thoughts about me.”

Looking back now, I can see that this was a missed opportunity. I wished I had been bold enough to tell Timmy about my secret desires, as well as my enhanced body, but I just wasn’t brave enough. I avoided the awkward situation by handing him the pictures from my dresser and laughing off his comments.

“Timmy, you’re so crazy. My changing in the other room has nothing to do with you. It’s my own insecurities. I’m just still really shy, okay? It’s not about anything more.”

“Holy crap, look at this guy! He seems bigger than a month ago! What is he lifting? Toyota trucks?”

I wanted to say no and then add ‘he’s lifting houses,’ but I didn’t. I was just happy that the pictures of Alex had taken the focus away from me. Timmy stared at my birth-brother’s picture with the same ferocious look he used when he devoured a new comic book or he watched a new Marvel movie. It was clear that Timmy definitely had a fetish for superheroes and Alex’s huge body played right into it. It was getting harder and harder for me to hide my true abilities from Timmy – mainly because I wanted to impress the crap out of him. I had no idea that I would make it through high school without telling him, but that I would get lots of opportunities to show off – which is what I really wanted, anyway.
(A place for me to post my stories in progress and other stuff I like)
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  #2   Add to iceman75's Reputation   Report Post  
Old July 8th, 2013, 05:58 PM
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Another great chapter of this, LB, really cool to see Justin and Timmy growing closer through working out, you know what I would love, that Timmy could grow stronger than Chance himself, just because he's been working out so hard with Justin, so the little kid who doesn't have any special genes to build up his muscles like Justin and Alex do, grows big muscle and strength almost by osmosis, by being close to someone who has that kind of ability makes you grow by proxy. Not as huge as Justin and Alex have the potential ability to grow, but seeing Timmy overpower Chance, who is much bigger and older, would be a trip. As for the rest of the story, I really enjoyed it. Keep up the great work, LB!
"Loved by few, hated by many, respected by ALL" The Undertaker, Deadman Inc.

In the MGS FC's, I am Barf the Mawg from Spaceballs, loyal, powerful, quick witted, but I have a bit of a weight problem.

Only those serious about young muscle need apply. We do accept stories, but let's keep it clean. This is the only place on the web where Ragman's "My Nephew" Stories can be found.
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Old July 8th, 2013, 06:56 PM
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Old July 9th, 2013, 04:03 AM
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You have proved us that you are the Grandmaster of muscle daddies, and now your gift to us is a story of the brith of a muscle daddy. I can see this guy has the potential to become one of the greatest characters you have already created, he is just young and eager to grow, but still insecure, he feels the need to show off his abilities but he still has a few issues to deal before he can unleash his true self in the world.

At the same time, it is amazing to see that the focus on Timmy's character is actually a great storytelling tool, it is so nice to see friendship growing into a carnal love relationship (and since this is being told as a recollection of memories, we can sure imagine these two still have a long and very sensual way to go).

Congratulations again!

Thanks for sharing your gift with us!

There's no such thing as TOO BIG!
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Old July 9th, 2013, 04:30 AM
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As always, great story LB!!! you have a great knack for writing stories that get the blood pumping. Would love to see him use timmy as a weight and even his own brother. Keep up the wonderful job sir! lilbilly
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