Bob's Brief Memoir
It seems strange to be writing memoirs at the age of fourteen, but even stranger is what has happened in the past few days. Joe has a computer and said Steve and I can use it, so I thought I'd try to get this down on paper. I don't know where we go from here, but just in case it gets any weirder, I thought it would be good to get it written down while I have the chance.
My name is Bob. I grew up in Venice, California with my father. My mother left us both when I was very young. Four. It had to do with the fact that she felt that my dad spent more time developing his body at the gym and admiring himself in the mirror at home than he did making her feel like a partner or lover. I have some fragmented memories of their last few heated discussions. She had slipped into using pills and alcohol to fill what she must have thought was an empty existence. I remember her accusing my dad of being a fag. Only fags hang out so much with other bodybuilders. They decided to split, and my dad convinced her that I should stay with him. She said no faggot was going to raise her son. He said no alcoholic addict was going to raise him. At least he can have a healthy home with me, he said.
So he won. I stayed. I grew up spending a lot of time with my dad at the gym. As I began to understand what sex was, I realized that it was true that my dad was gay. So were most of his friends at the gym. But I didn't care. I thought it was pretty cool that I got to hang out with him and his musclemen friends.
I remember asking him if all the bodybuilders were gay and how do you know if you're gay? He said that a lot of men like to build up their physiques and aren't gay. As far as knowing whether or not you were gay, well, he said, you'll just have to wait and see whether it's men or women who attract you. How do you know, I asked. You'll have a pretty good idea when you notice who and what makes your dick hard, which will probably start happening when you're around ten, or so.
When I reached ten years old, I hit the first hints of puberty. About the time I noticed the first dark hairs growing in at the base of my penis, I also noticed that I really began to feel excited by the muscles on my dad and some of his friends. I began to think a lot about having muscles like theirs. All these guys would do whatever it took to get as big as they could. I noticed how excited they became over their gains. It was around then that they decided to throw caution to the wind, as my dad said when I asked him why he was giving himself shots all the time, and they jumped headlong into trying steroids. As the steroids started showing their effects, he would stand naked in front of the mirror posing and flexing.
I asked my dad if I was old enough to start working out, too. He told me he had been just waiting for me to ask. He asked what I wanted to accomplish, ultimately. I told him that I thought it would be totally cool to be as big as he and his friends were. So he set up a gym at home to start training me. He told me to prepare myself for a lifetime of hard work and discipline. I asked him if I could take some of his steroids, too, but he said that he didn't think it would be smart while I was so young and just developing my sexual characteristics. He said they might inhibit the growth of my genitals, since one of the drawbacks in grown-up men was that often their balls shrank up. No man, he told me, wants to see his sex organs get smaller. And there were other possible side-effects that would be bad for a young guy. When you're older, he said, we would reconsider it.
So, anyway. The next few years go by. I'm working out every day. As soon as I started getting hard-ons, and it seemed I was getting them all the time, I realized that they were always happening when I was excited by some guy's body. I was getting erections over someone's pecs, over someone's biceps, over strange things like a guy's chest hair, armpits on men that had real dark, thick hair in them. I was growing a nice amount of pubes myself, starting to get some really noticeable dark hair under my arms, and I had to start shaving by the time I was twelve. By thirteen, I started noticing some dark hair coming in on my chest and on my belly. It seemed my dick was hard so often that I was constantly embarrassed trying to hide my boners.
I concentrated on some very attractive women to see if I could imagine being naked with them, seeing them naked, but no matter what fantasy I tried to imagine, my dick stayed as limp as overcooked spaghetti. I finally told my dad that I was pretty sure I was gay. He showed no surprise. He told me, in fact, that he could tell already by the kind of interest he saw me display toward the guys at the gym. He also told me not to worry about it. It may not be always easy, but being gay can be fun, especially for a guy with a well developed body.
Right after that, he told me he wanted me to work out with other guys as partners, to get their perspective. He brought this one guy over a couple days later, a guy I thought was incredibly good looking. I know I had told my dad that when I was his age, which I guessed to be about twenty, I hoped I could look like him. He was handsome, dark, had a lot of hair on his chest and abs, and was always being teased because he almost always worked out in just little posing trunks. Said he didn't like to be restricted by wearing more clothes when he worked out. My dad and the other guys said he just liked to show off. I could see why. He was huge, like the guys in the magazines, and he displayed a very large bulge in the front of his little trunks. In the showers, he also seemed to spend a lot of time soaping up and, it seemed to me, showing off his dick and all to the other guys. They called him the stallion.
My dad left him alone with me, said he had a few errands to run and he'd be back in a couple of hours. So this guy tells me to get into my workout clothes. I always wore stretch shorts and a tank top. He stripped off his jeans and shoes and his own tank top, and here I was with this guy showing me how to pump up, how he pumps up, and he's wearing only this tiny posing suit. Only now he's letting it ride even lower than he does at the gym, showing some pubes. He said he knew I learned a lot by watching. He'd seen me watching him at the gym. He pumped up his arms so I could watch, he worked on his pecs, his shoulders. He posed for me after each set. He told me that my dad had told him I wanted to be as big as he was. It didn't take long before I could tell I was going to get a hard-on, and I knew I wouldn't be able to hide it in those stretch shorts. But I was so excited being here alone with him, I couldn't stop it.
He saw it. But he said that's okay, man, I like to know that I turn guys on. It's fun. That's why I love to show off. You know, we all get boners. I get them sometimes when I see that I'm turning someone on. Like right now. You see? I think it's hot that you want to build up like me and that you think I'm hot. You do think I'm hot, you know. That's why you're getting hard. But that's fine. Have fun with it. I don't mind if you see that I'm getting a hard-on, too. And he stood there with the bulge in his suit growing, pulling the suit down, showing more hair. Come one, man, don't be shy. Look. I'll let you see me with an erection. And he pulled off his suit. He told me to take off my clothes, too, and we would finish the workout in the nude. That afternoon, I discovered the pleasures that can be had with another guy. I knew dad had set this up. What a cool guy.
After that, I pumped iron like crazy. I spent a lot of time at the gym, and I also talked my dad into arranging for other guys to come to the house for private sessions. I was having fun, discovering my sexuality, and getting a rather nice body for a kid of thirteen, then fourteen.
Then, last week, I was down at the beach. Muscle beach. I go there all the time to watch the bodybuilders work out and to imagine when I'll be old enough and big enough to join them. Like the other guys, I always wear a bikini on the beach. I like getting used to the idea of showing off what I'm developing. Usually, I just hang by myself, getting sun and watching.
Sometimes some of my dad's friends come down, and my dad, too. But I'm there whenever I can be. And I'm always ready for a close encounter or a new acquaintance. There's this guy about my age who seems to be a lot like me who is also there pretty often. We've looked at each other, but we haven't talked. He's built about like me. I notice him doing things, stretching, rubbing himself with tanning lotion, and looking to see if I'm watching. He catches me. I catch him watching me. One day, I figure, we'll talk. Maybe he could be my workout partner.
So I'm on my towel, watching, when this totally, amazingly good-looking man comes walking down the beach. This guy is like a fantasy, with huge muscles, a bulging crotch, and lots of perfect body hair in all the right places. Not to mention a movie star face and hair. He's looking at me. He's seen me staring at him. He comes up, sits down, and says hi. How are you doin'? I saw you staring at me. Took it as a compliment. You into muscle?
I gulp out that I am. He asks what my goals are, and before I can answer, he asks if I would like to look like him. Well, hell yeah. Who wouldn't? Do I know that blond kid over there that keeps staring? I say no. He asks me to excuse him for a second, he has an interesting proposition for me. Then he walks over to the guy I was talking about, sits down by him, talks to him for a couple of minutes, and then turns and signals for me to come over. I get up, despite the fact that I can tell that my cock is a little hard and I know it shows. I don't care much. He introduces me to Steve, tells me that Steve also said that he would like to look like him.
Like I said, who wouldn't? But he says, what if I told you that I am a biochemical scientist and I have a way of making it come true. Not in years, or even hours, but right now, this afternoon? I don't expect you to believe me, but I can show you. I can make you as big as I want, or as you want, I can make body hair grow all over you, and I can even make your cocks and balls as big as you can imagine them. If I could do that, would you want me to?
Steve and I look at each other. Is this guy nuts? But we tell him, sure, why not. He says he can show us right now the kind of things he can do, how fast and powerful his formulations are. Of course he can't physically change us right on the beach. He tells us that he made this his life's work because he was a skinny, ugly geek growing up, and he knew he could discover the way to change people's genetic coding, and make them change, physically and mentally, almost instantly. Actually, he is surprised, he says, that he can make it happen as fast as he can. But he's perfected it, and it's become his favorite toy.
So, how can he show us here without changing us? He laughs. He flips back the top of a ring he's wearing, like one of those old poison rings. He tells each of us to touch the damp surface inside the ring. Okay. We do it. Now what? Just wait a second, he says, and suddenly I start to feel so physically, sexually excited I can't believe it. I'm horny. I feel sexy. I want to show off. I want to touch him and Steve. Jesus. Like a drug.
It goes through the skin. Believe me now?
We'll sure give it a try, we tell him, and we follow him back up the beach to his apartment. No sooner do we walk through the door, than he takes a small vial, turns it up like he was going to apply some, like perfume, and touches each of us with a drop. He tells us he doesn't want us to change our minds, so he thought he'd just give it to us. Told us he'd been watching us on the beach and decided that we'd be fun playmates for him.
While he's talking, I started to feel these surges of unbelievably powerful sexuality. Right away, I can feel my muscles start to grow thick and big, and my cock and balls start to feel huge, and heavy. Hair is sprouting out all over my chest and stomach, my legs and arms. Steve is going through the same thing. It feels wonderful. We laugh and laugh as we get bigger and bigger. Within ten minutes we're as big as he was, maybe bigger, and feeling so sexy and hot.
So for the last few days, Steve and I have been here just flexing, jacking, sucking, and fucking almost constantly with this guy and each other. We can't stop and we can't get enough. We go out to the beach and show off and pick up other guys. Joe changes them and changes them back. But he won't change us back. We both love the way we feel. We don't really want to go back to being fourteen year old boys, no matter how sexy we might have been. We've even picked up a few of my dad's friends, and they had no idea who we were. That was great. But I know we'll be missed. Do we just let ourselves become statistics, two more guys who disappear off the face of the earth? I have a feeling my dad has a good idea, maybe even set this up. Maybe not. They can't trace anything back to Joe, because he can just change the way he looks. And If someone came looking, he would just touch their skin with a drop of something that would make them abandon their search. So here we are. Having a good time. Wish you were here.