Doug was eleven years old when he realized that he was stronger than other kids. Way stronger. He was picking apples with some of the neighborhood guys, and they started throwing them at each other. One kid threw one right at Doug's head, and his hand went up like lightning, snagging the apple midflight. He was mad that it came that close to his face and started squeezing. At first the hardness of the underripe apple didn't budge, but Doug's forearm began to quiver with power, and soon his fingers began to dig into the apple's skin. Encouraged by this, Doug crushed down even harder, as the other kids began to look on, some of them yelling "yeahhh douggy!!" He bore down HARD and the apple smushed like soft putty in his strong hand. Some of the other bigger boys tried it then, but none of them could even get a dent started in their apples.

That incident got Doug interested in strength. He began to workout with his dad in the garage weightroom. Doug's muscles responded fast. He got stronger with almost every workout. His dad, a former powerlifter, was happy to see his son getting into lifting so young, and started Doug on protein drinks. By the time he was 13, Doug had matched his father's bench press of 365. And between workouts, while his dad was at work, Doug would train his grip. Hard. And he was strong as hell. He could clamp two 45lb olympic plates together between his thumb and fingers and lift them off the ground, twist them and curl them for reps. He would do this over and over again, switching hands, until his forearms were bloated like bowling pins, new veins forming every week to feed his rapidly growing size and power.

At 14, Doug started high school. During the first week, he noticed some of the junior year football players picking on some kids from his homeroom. He walked over to them and said "Leave them alone." Doug was still only 5'4, but he wore baggy clothes to hide the nearly 180lbs of fourteen year old muscle he had packed on his frame. One of the juniors mistook this bulk for fat, and told Doug to get the hell out of here, then shoved Doug hard in the chest. Only Doug didn't budge an inch. And he could tell that the junior had hurt his hand shoving him.

"Shit," said the junior," you wearing a bulletproof vest or something, faggot?" Then he took a swing at Doug's head.

Doug's hand reacted fast, snagging the kid's fist firmly. Doug squeezed and twisted at the same time. The junior buckled and squealed at the same time, going down hard and fast. The other football players backed away. "Jesus!" said one of them. Doug squeezed harder, and everyone could hear the kid's hand bones crushing like eggshells.

No one picked on the freshman that year.

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