muscle growth Always Just A Big Farm Boy

[Bodicontak]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okie Dokie, The first chapter of a story I wrote myself a while back.  I have read many stories on many sites over the years, but I have never posted a story on any site ever! I think this is the last thing I had left at being a virgin of.

 

I look forward to getting your first impressions on my story line and writing style.  I completed writing this story back in 2002.  I am currently re-reading and editing it and will post chapters afterwards.

All I ask is for people responding to be respectful.  I have no problem being critiqued but do with being criticized!

This story may now be for you, or the have subject matter you like, if so stop reading and move on. Don't waste your time reading it, then waste my time by writing to me telling me how bad it was and how much you didn't like the characters, the plot, the story line and the subject matter.

 

"If you don't have anything nice or relevant to write or say, than don't write or say anything"  Please and Thank you!

 

The people, places and some of the events in this story are real and based up me and my life.  Some names and places slightly altered out of respect and privacy of others.

The story has content like the following: muscle growth, super strength, cock growth, gay sex, m/m, interracial sex, white guys, black guys, massive muscles, bodybuilders.

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

My parents were old, my father 58, my mother 48, when I was born. Bless their hearts!  In 1964, a pregnant 48-year-old woman was not only rare but also considered dangerous for the mother. My mother was a wee bit of a woman, 5-foot 1 inch tall and soaking wet and carrying her purse weighed no more than 90 pounds.  Dr. Millington had been my mother’s doctor for over thirty years. He spoke with my parents and reminded them about the problems and difficulty she had giving birth to my brother 21 years ago when my mother was 27 years old. He then reminded them how much harder and more difficult it had been giving birth to my sister 11 years ago when my mother was 37 years old. At 48 it would be even worse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Strangely, as soon as her heart started beating again, without her pushing, or even having a contraction and totally unnoticed by the doctor and nurses their focus on her heart, I emerged and let out a single cry that startled all of them.  I don’t know how she actually survived, I weighed 15 pounds 8 ounces and measure 25.5 inches in length.  Last time I checked I still held the record for the biggest baby born in the state of Maine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In great detail he told them about all damage it could do to her body, kidney and liver failure, back, neck, hip and knee damage, destruction of her bladder, damage to her lungs, she could suffer a stroke or heart attack, that there was a good chance she could even die. He also told them there was a good chance of birth defects like deformed limbs, bad muscle development, possibly crippled, or blind or deaf, retardation more than likely.  He recommended and encouraged them to consider abortion. He figured she was about a month a long, so they needed to act quickly.  First of all, amazingly abortions were legal in Maine in the 1960’s. Second, kudos to Dr. Millington for not only talking about and suggesting an abortion but also that he had studied and learned the procedure and performed abortions as needed.  

 

 

 

 

 

Surprisingly and thankfully, decided not to have the abortion.  At their age they thought it was a miracle just to conceive.  Three months later when my mother was in pain, having problems with her kidneys, having difficulty breathing, had no control of her bladder and high blood pressure, I am sure I was no longer a heavenly miracle and more like a hellish curse. Dr. Millington gave my parents two options, either she could stay home, but only if she stayed in bed 23 out of the 24 hours in a day. No standing longer than a couple of minutes, no lifting, no working, no cooking, no cleaning. Or he could admit her into the hospital, which he recommended. Both options would be until either I had developed enough that he could perform a fairly new procedure call a C-section or until she gave birth naturally.

 

 

 

She chose to stay at home.  Fortunately for her and my father, a bunch of my mothers’ friends and neighbors pitched in, took days, shifts, chores, housework and meals and made it possible. Somehow my mother held on, until just six days before the expected due date, her water broke and she went into labor. Her belly was enormous, she had gained 21 pounds all of it there.  They had to call an ambulance because she could bare move let alone walk or get into the car.  My mother had been in labor for over 19 hours and just minutes before I finally decided to come out, her heart stopped. There was a mad rush as Dr. Millington and one of the nurses performed their first CPR, a brand-new procedure they had only been trained on a week before.

 

 

 

 

I grew in a small town in Maine, on a farm, a 280-acre farm, with cows, horses, chickens, pigs, turkey's, over 20 acres of gardens, 10 acres of apple, pear and peach trees.  5 acres of strawberries, raspberries and blueberries.  We had over 85 acres of hay fields.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I started working, doing chores right after I start walking.  By age 5. I was driving the smaller tractor and farm truck and had learned how to and was doing most of the chores myself.  My brother had joined the Army and left three years before I was born. My sister who was very intelligent was a senior in high school at age 16, was active in Field Hockey, played clarinet in the band and a member of several different clubs and was too busy to regularly do chores.  My father’s construction business consumed his almost every waking moment and at age 63 kept him way to busy. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was a big baby and by big I mean huge.  I was an even big toddler and I just kept getting bigger.  When my mother took me in to register for kindergarten in the fall, they didn’t believe that I was 5 years old, even with the birth certificate. I was taller and bigger than most 8 and 9-year-old boys.  Having me was not easy, they had gone into debt for all the bills just having me.  Raising, feeding and supplying clothes and shoes that fit me was not easy. Thank god we lived on that farm, because by age 3 I was eating twice as much as both my mother and father ate. By age 5 at meals I was eating four or five times as much as the both of them. While doing chores, I would eat whatever was in season and rip, not always the later. How much I ate was the only thing I had really thought about until I started school. I had never given any thought about how tall I was, or how much I weighed. I hadn’t even notice I had muscles, or the size of them until then.

 

 

 

 

 

By age 10 I had learned and could do every chore, operate every piece of equipment, and do whatever work needed on the farm. My sister had been gone four years by that point, moved to California for college and work.  She hadn’t been home in over two years. At 68 my father was slowing down; his business still consumed all this time. Almost every day of the year I was up at 4 am to do morning chores. When I finished, I would eat breakfast, then shower, dress and go to school when it was in session. I would come home after school, change into work clothes, grab an apple or something to eat as I headed to the barn. There was a refrigerator in the barn, where after milking the cows, we shortly stored the milk until it was quickly drank or used.

At 10, I was 5 foot 6.5 inches tall and weighed 140 pounds.  I was at least a foot taller and weighed twice as much as guys my age. I was also way stronger than them too, I was quite sure I was stronger than guys twice my age, but I kept that secret to myself.  My parents didn’t even know how strong I was. It was the third Saturday in April, I was on the John Deere 4020 tricycle tractor and was attempting to discs harrow one of the 8-acre garden plots, so I could then till and plow, ready to plant that year’s crop.  It wasn’t going well at all.  It had snowed more that winter than it had in sixty years.  It had rained hard, every day the first 13 days of April and the sun had only been out and shining five days. Parts of the garden for dry and firm, some a little damp and little soft a couple areas wet and very soft.  I had just gotten through one of those areas, the disc harrower completely bunged up and full of wet dirt.

 

 

 

 

 

I stopped the tractor, shut it off, got off and went to clear out the disc harrower.  I was just about done, when the disc harrower started to move.  I jump to get out of the way and then saw why it was moving.  The right rear tire of where I had stopped turned out to be the softest spot in the garden and the wheel had sunken down past and over the top of the axle.  I don’t know who the idiot was that had the idea to build a tricycle tractor in first place, they where unstable on hills, slopped field and most uneven surfaces.  Not have the stability of two front wheels, that right rear wheel had sunk so far down that the tractor slowly rolled over onto its side.  That was the first time I ever used the word, “FUCK”!

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I jogged back to the barn to get the Ford Front Loader and some chains, I was trying to figure out how I could do this all by myself. I figured that if I could lift that right rear side up with the Ford to the point where the wheel was just above the ground I could then slide several oak planks under it, with the tractors weight dispersed on them it shouldn’t sink when I lowered it and got the Ford out of the way, then I should be able to drive the John Deere forward and be out of this mess.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everything was going according to my plan until no matter where or how I connected the chain the Ford Front Loader could not lift the rear wheel of the John Deere completely up and out of the ground. There was more than a foot left to go. I had laid the six oak planks on the ground close to where I would need them.  One had placed one of the planks right beside the sunken wheel for me to stand on so I could attach and hook up the chain.  I was standing on that plank, frustrated as hell the wheel wasn’t higher. For some reason, I squatted down and grabbed a hold of each side of the huge rear wheel to try and lift the tractor.  I knew I was frustrated and worked up and figured I must just be blowing off some steam.  When the tractor didn’t move, I move from frustrated to mad, which made me try even harder to life the tractor. I lost my grip when I was surprised to see and feel the tractor start to move and lift up. I sank a little deep than if had been, that moved me from mad to angry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I squatted and grabbed a hold of each side of the huge rear wheel again, I had a death grip on the damn thing. I poured every ounce of concentration and energy into that lift.  The harder I strained, the more blood rushed into my muscles, making me get hot all over.  The hotter I got the move power I had to lift harder, causing more blood to rush to my muscle, making me get even hotter, which gave me more power to lift even harder.  My head cleared a little and I realized that I was standing up straight, my arms and hands still locked onto the huge rear wheel and that the bottom of the tire was about fifteen inches off the group.  What the…? How the…? I thought. That’s when I noticed that I didn’t feel anything different than when I picked up and held my pet cat Shikon.

 

 

 

 

 

Then I realized that I may have picked up the tractor, but how the hell was I going to get the planks underneath the wheel?  I needed both hands to keep the wheel and tractor up.  Or did I?  It seriously didn’t feel like I was holding anything up.  I leaned in hard and pressed my chest against the top of the tire with everything I could.  I was hoping that would give me the second to two I needed to move my hands up under my chest to the inside top of the rim and lift from there. I thought hopefully that I might be able to remove my right hand and hold the tractor up with just my left hand.  I could then use my right hand and arm to move the planks under the wheel.  And I did just that!

 

 

 

 

 

 

With just my left hand I lowered the tractor down till the wheel was resting on the planks.  I just stood there, trying to make sense of it all.  I looked at the ground, at the John Deere, at my hands, at my arms, at my legs and at my chest.  I was big for a 10-year-old, but still how was it even possible for anyone weighing 140 pounds to pick up a tractor that weighed over 10,000 pounds, let alone hold it up with just one hand. I didn’t think it was typical for 140-pound, 10-year old’s to be that strong. I removed the chains, back the drove the Ford off the garden and parked it on the grass surrounding the garden. I went back and reconnect the discs harrower to the John Deere, got on started up the tractor and drove forward off the planks and off the garden and parked it on the grass, where I was going to leave it for now.  I picked up and loaded all of the oak planks into the bucket on the Ford and drove back to the barn. I put the oak planks back from where I got them.  Got the water hose and rinsed off all the mud and dirt on the Ford and then turned the hose onto myself, I was covered in dirt and mud pretty much from head to toe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The water coming out of the hose was ice cold, it felt good!  All of my muscle still felt burning hot.  When the first bit of cold water hit my chest, I swore I heard, “hhhhhiiiissssssss” and saw a flash of steam rise from them. I hadn’t got anything done that I had planned on doing that day.  And with my mind reliving what had happen, racing and thinking about how it happened and trying to figure out what I should do about it, if anything. Should I tell my parents?  What if they or someone else had seen me or somehow found out?  Would the military or some doctors come and take me away to study me? How strong was I actually? Will I get even stronger as I grow up? I had some many thoughts racing through my mind, that I knew I couldn’t get any work done.  All I wanted and was ready to do was go to my room, lay down on my bed and go to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I remembered I had some shirts and shorts in one of the cabinets in the barn. So, I stripped naked and washed myself clean with the cold water from the hose. Coiled the hose up after finishing, picked up my old wet clothes and laid them over a never by fence rail. I was as dry as I was going to get without a towel, so pulled on a pair on shorts and a t shirt, picked up my steel toed boots and headed for the house, my room, my bed.  Mercifully the house was empty. My father at work as usual, my mother out doing errands or something.  There is no way she would have let me go without explaining why I had stopped working, why I was going to my room and why I just wanted to lay down and go to sleep.  I had never down any of these things and there would be no way in hell, she would stop until she knew what the hell was going on. I think I was asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Hialmar]

Unusual layout. Very nice story. Despite the fact, that you didn't describe any scents, I promise you, that I could smell the scents from the farm. Remove the oh so southernly peach trees and the turkeys, and you could have described my aunt's and uncle's farm in the 1970s on my side of The Pond.

[Carnacki]

Really enjoyed this and looking forward to further instalments. Keep going

[kauri]

I think the only criticism I would have is that the only characters we get names for are the doctor who delivered the main character- and the cat.  Who is the protagonist?  So far the setting makes it hard to place a cat named Shikon in it (assuming this story takes place in the Rural American mid-west, where does the young boy get exposed to enough Japanese culture to name their pet such a Japanese sounding name?)  Other than that the premise looks good :D!

[bbeware]

The introduction (autobiographical?) is eerily similar to my beginnings. I was born in Maine in 1962 to a mother of 45 years (the last of 4 children, over 16 years) who I learned experienced the same preconceptions n those days (was she too old? will "it" be normal? should she have an abortion?). Happily for me, being old-timey, dyed-in-the-wool Baptists, my parents wouldn't consider the latter option. After my birth, as the family story goes, she was even offered this new thing called "the Pill", but she laughed off the need. Sadly, any similarity between your story and mine ends there.  I simply grew up to be gay with a muscle fetish!

[Mdlftr]

Great introduction!  The chronological order of events seems out of whack in the first few paragraphs, in that you jump back and forth in time between describing the doctor's pre-birth cautions, then jump to a line saying that the birth was successful, then jump back to more details about the pre-birth lying in at home.  The gist of the story is well rendered. Your style is engaging and the narrator's lively personality is coming through, even if we don't know his name at this stage.  Very compellingly written - I  want to know what comes next!  

Thank you for sharing this. 

[Bodicontak]

Thank you Hialmar, Carnacki, Kauri, Bbeware and Mdlfter for your compliments, comments and critiques. I apologize for the "unusual layout", when I copied and pasted it , the spacing and size went wonky and at the time, when I attempted to correct it, it made it worse. So I deleted and re-pasted and got the same wonky  spacing and  just posted it.

I took note that my story lacked describing scents and smells, as reread and make edits to chapters I will add some in to add to describing some of the events or places.

When I originally wrote this story in 2002, Chapter One was twice as long.  Unfortunately in my re-reading, editing , condensing and shortening, I failed to notice I had not  adequately described and left in left in character names. I  correct and work into Chapter Two.

I like hearing that it brought  up memories and had similarities for someone you. I  really appreciate that you took the time to write me. 

[dredlifter]

Cool background info.  Now let's see where it goes from here.

[EclipseWing]

Great start! I know how you feel on the formatting. Copy/pasting sometimes completely messes with the story in the editor. Your description of the farm is fantastic; I could see it very clearly. I'm excited to see what happens next.