"Thunder" something... I think

[abbraxis]

All I remember was that it was a kid (relatively young) who started getting super strong, so he left the house and just started tearing up a junk yard or something...

I thought it was "Thunder Kid" or something... but my searches have thus far come up empty.

Any help?

[iceman75]

Yeah, thats Thunder Boy by Lead Guitarist, its a three chapter story, though I don't know where it can be found now.

[rextorres]

Yes, Thunderboy, written by Lead Guitarist. Send me an email ([email protected]) for I have the only 3 chapters of this story as a file somewhere. I also wrote a story later on featuring the Thunderboy character, but it is not as good as the original. This is one of the stories that got me into writing muscle growth stories in the first place, way back in 2003, when I first wrote "Ricky".

-Rex

[abbraxis]

I can send you an email... but do you think you can just put it up (with credit to Lead Guitarist)? I know it was there before but has since "fallen off" the forum.

At least then, everyone can enjoy. Or I could send you an email. It's up to you...

[rextorres]

Well, I don't like the idea of posting someone else's work... especially if I don't have permission to do it.

[sonybud]

Would this be it?

I once read a story called "Diary of a superboy". Any idea where I might find it?


Thunder Boy Chapter 1

Odin took a golden cup in his huge hand and filled it from the pool of mead
beside his throne. He handed it to his son Thor with a rueful smile. ?Thor, my
son, you conquered my spell, it seems. Your son is becoming superhuman far
before his time.?
Thor chuckled. He had implanted Monica with the best, the strongest, of
his godseed, he knew. He had struggled to overcome Odin?s spell as far as he
was able. It seemed that he had, at least in part, succeeded. ?It seems, Father,
that the might of your magic cannot fully overcome the might of my strength.
Thanks for the mead. Cheers!? He raised the cup.
Odin filled a cup for himself and touched it to Thor?s. ?It does not matter.
Young Keith is now nine years old and has matured enough to handle some
power, I think. You made him intelligent, as well as strong, didn?t you??
Thor nodded. ?He will be a champion of Earth. I gave Earth my best.?
Odin drank his cup dry, then refilled it. ?Drink, Thor. Your young Keith has
become a son to be proud of!?
Thor drained his cup too. ?Do you have a larger goblet, my Father?? he
asked.
Odin laughed. ?Of course!? He waved his hand a little over Thor?s cup, and
it grew to the size of a barrel. ?Drink your fill, my son!?
Thor grinned and filled the huge goblet from the pool. Its weight was
nothing to his immense strength. He drank a deep draught and filled the goblet
again.
?Now, Thor,? said Odin. ?You realize what this means, do you not? In a
very short time Keith will display strength beyond what is possible for even an
adult human. I did not expect this for several more years at least. The people of
Earth will know of this and will wonder why he is so strong. There will be no
explanation save you. You will no longer be able to hide on Earth, my son. Keith
will make you plain to the humans. Are you prepared??
?I am more concerned with how they will treat Keith. He does not yet know
his heritage.? Thor looked into his father?s one good eye. ?It may be necessary to
move Keith to some place where they cannot find him.?
?What?? Odin said. ?You mean to bring him here to Asgard??
Thor bristled a little at his father?s tone. ?Do not forget, my Father, that he
is a prince of Asgard. He is my son and your grandson. But no, I do not mean to
bring him here, at least not yet. But Earth has many uninhabited islands. It may
be that he should be placed where humans will not encounter him.?
?Well. On the other hand, he may be ready to learn the truth of his
heritage. If he knew, he would be careful not to call undue attention to himself,
until he is ready to assume his full power.?
Thor downed another barrel of mead. ?Are you sure of that? He is still
VERY young.?
Odin sighed. ?You did your work too well, my son. I have a feeling that
very soon, we will not have a choice.?

Monica Janssen was so pleased with Keith?s overwhelming health that from the
time he was three years old, she never bothered taking him to the doctor. At
three, he had seemed more or less normal, but at the very high end of normal.
He seemed to literally glow with health, his strength was remarkable, his child?s
happiness was absolute. There was then absolutely nothing wrong at all with
Keith, so Monica just let the doctor appointments slide. In the years since, he
never got chicken pox, measles, flu, or any other common childhood disease. He
never even caught a cold.
But Keith was intellectually precocious. He had skipped several grades,
and with the school?s permission, he was permitted to enter high school at ninth
grade at the tender age of nine. His classmates would be, for the most part,
fourteen years old. The school had a requirement, however: Keith would have to
have a thorough medical checkup and pass with a clean bill of health before he
would be allowed to enter the school.
So on a sunny morning before the beginning of the school year, Monica
and Keith visited Dr. Kramer?s office. Dr. Joel Kramer was a young man, mid
thirties, and was keen and enthusiastic about caring for children. But when he
saw young Keith for the first time, as he and Monica entered his waiting room, his
knees nearly buckled. This boy was a phenomenon. His hair was more than
blond, it was stark white, straight, thick and long, cascading over his strong
shoulders. His face was tanned to pure bronze, a bronze that almost seemed lit
from within. Dr. Kramer had never seen skin this clear, so healthy. And Keith?s
eyes were the most electric blue Dr. Kramer had ever seen, bluer than the bluest
sky, yet harboring a fire behind them that would be terrifying if the boy?s smile
had not been so bright, charming, disarming. Keith?s teeth were even whiter than
his hair, giving him a grin more dazzling than any Hollywood star. The boy wore a
classy white sport shirt and clean, snug-fitting jeans.
?Mrs ? Janssen?? Dr. Kramer composed himself and addressed Keith?s
mother. For the moment, he tried to keep his eyes off his spectacular young
patient.
?Yes.?
?I?m Dr. Kramer. Please sign in with the receptionist over there.? He turned
to the boy. ?You must be Keith ? is that right??
Keith grinned. ?Yeah! That?s me.? He held out his right hand and the
doctor shook it. Keith?s grip was strong and his skin warm but dry, even though
his hand was so small. Dr. Kramer felt almost an electric charge from the boy?s
touch.
?Why don?t you go with Janet ? ? ? he indicated the nurse ? ? - and get
ready, while I talk with your mom a bit, OK??
?OK!? And Keith let Janet, a young brunette nurse in her early twenties,
lead him to the examination room. Dr. Kramer couldn?t help notice how the jeans
clung snugly to Keith?s tight little bubble-rump as he walked away. Perfect, just
perfect.
Dr. Kramer watched as Monica finished filling out the forms. ?Mrs.
Janssen, I just have a few questions about Keith before I examine him. OK??
?Go ahead.?
?Any illnesses? Any medical problems you want to mention??
?No, none at all. He?s extremely healthy.?
?I can see that. He looks tremendous! Usually, if there?s any problem, a
good doctor can spot it because the child will show it in his posture, his skin tone,
or his attitude. Keith impressed me as a very healthy boy.?
?He always has been.?
?Has he ever had any problems? Any broken bones? Sprains? He looks
like an active kid. Any sports injuries??
?No. And that seems weird. He typically plays with kids older than he is,
and bigger. I used to worry that he?d get hurt, because the play gets pretty rough
at times. But even though the other, older kids got sprains and muscle pulls and
sometimes even broken bones, Keith has come through scot free. I?m kind of
wondering why that is.?
Dr. Kramer smiled. ?It might be that he?s just lucky. Anything else you want
to tell me about him??
Monica hesitated. ?Well ? ? She shrugged. ?He seems ? heavy. I know
he doesn?t look heavy, and Lord knows he doesn?t move heavy. You should see
him run, and he?s the star of his school?s gymnastics team. But I don?t think a boy
his size should weigh what he does. He?s only four foot seven, and he?s already a
hundred and ten pounds. He has school friends just about the same size who are
only about seventy-five pounds. And they?re kind of fat, next to Keith. I?d like to
know what?s going on there.?
?A hundred and ten pounds? Are you sure? Maybe your scale is wrong.?
Monica shook her head. ?No. My neighbor?s scale says the same thing.
Weigh him yourself.? She paused. ?It might have something to do with how strong
he is.?
?What do you mean??
Monica took a breath. ?Keith is very strong. Extremely strong for his age. I
mean, it?s almost freaky. We have a neighbor boy who?s sixteen years old, over
six feet tall, and who won his class in the state wrestling championships last year,
and he won?t wrestle Keith because the last time they play-wrestled, Keith
dislocated his shoulder. I mean, I know he didn?t mean to, and he was so sorry
he mowed their lawn for the whole summer without being asked, but he was only
eight at the time! He has no wrestling or martial-arts skills. But he could beat this
wrestling champ without breaking a sweat, just with sheer muscle. He lifts my
piano so I can vacuum under it. Is that normal? You?ll see when he takes off his
shirt. He?s got muscles on his muscles already, and he has never worked out in
his life. And no one in my family is built like him, nor in his father?s family, from
what I know. I can?t figure it out.?
Dr. Kramer considered this. ?Ohhh ? kay,? he said slowly. ?I think that?s all
I need to know before the examination. If you?ll just wait here ? ??
?Of course, Doctor.?

Janet led Keith into the examination room. Stark white walls, an anatomy
chart, a desk with a few medical books and a computer, with a chair, and the
examination table. There was already fresh paper drawn over the table. ?OK,
Keith. How ?bout you strip off to your undies and get up on the table. All right??
Keith grinned and quickly, skillfully, undid the buttons of his shirt, tugged
the tails out of his jeans, and whipped the shirt off. For just an instant he stood in
front of Janet and took a quick little breath.
And he was a vision. Janet looked at naked and semi-naked young boys
his age every day as a pediatric nurse, and she had never seen a boy so utterly
golden. His skin was so pure and clear that he looked like he had been cast from
bronze and polished to a high shine, glowing with a light of his own. He stood
poised somehow, lightly balanced with his weight on the balls of his feet, ready to
move ? Janet had the sudden thought that he looked as though he was about to
fly!
But it was his incredible muscles that made her catch her breath. The
boy?s physique was simply shocking. ?Doctor!? she called, almost involuntarily.
Dr. Kramer was already entering the examination room. He stopped,
stock-still, when he saw Keith?s upper body.
?Doctor ? look,? Janet said. ?Look at him ??
Dr. Kramer gazed a moment. ?Holy cow ?? he finally managed to whisper.
Keith blushed a little. ?What?s wrong? Is something wrong??
?No, no, nothing, Keith,? said Dr. Kramer. ?It?s just that we have never
seen a boy as ? um, muscular as you are. You are very impressive.? He
paused, an awkward pause in which none of the three knew what to say. Finally
Dr. Kramer continued. ?Uh, please get your jeans off and put them over there. Or
Janet will take them for you ?? He remembered to smile reassuringly.
Keith grinned back and undid the button and fly of his jeans. In one swift
motion he dropped them, stepped out of them, and picked them up to hand to
Janet. Now he stood naked except for a skimpy red thong, with thin straps
tugged high over his hips and a small pouch just barely containing him in front. It
left his lean, hard, bubble buttocks bare, and both Dr. Kramer and Janet were
surprised to see that the bronze tan extended to the boy?s shapely young glutes
as well.
?Wow,? said Dr. Kramer slowly.
?Woah, Keith,? Janet said. ?Do you sunbathe naked?? She seemed far
more at ease with the young muscleboy than the doctor did.
Keith blushed, but smiled. ?No, but I wear swimsuits like this ? thongs, I
mean, when I?m out in our pool. Usually, anyway. Sometimes when guests are
around I put on a Speedo or something.?
Janet smiled. She couldn?t help it, around this boy. ?OK, Keith. Sit up on
the table now.?
Keith did so.
Janet produced a thermometer. ?Open up! Let me take your temperature.
Dr. Kramer is going to listen to your chest, OK??
Keith opened his mouth and accepted the thermometer, then nodded
vigorously towards the doctor.
Dr. Kramer set his stethoscope on Keith?s golden chest, right over his
heart. He listened for a moment, frowned a little, and stared at his watch for
several seconds. ?Don?t hold your breath, Keith. Just breathe normally.?
?But I am breathing normally.? Keith spoke around the thermometer.
Dr. Kramer raised his eyebrows a little. ?Hm. OK, then.? He listened some
more, staring at his watch. Eventually, ?Hmmmm ??
?Is there something wrong, Doctor?? Keith asked seriously.
?No, no ? just ? ah. Hmmm.?
?Doctor?? Janet asked.
?Oh, he?s fine, Janet. We?ll talk afterwards. You?re OK, Keith, don?t worry.?
Dr. Kramer listened a little more. ?OK, Keith. Enough of that. We?re going to test
your reflexes now, ok??
Keith smiled. ?Sure. How??
Janet removed the thermometer from Keith?s mouth at last and studied it.
Dr. Kramer took his hammer from his desk. ?I?ll just tap below your knee
with this little mallet, OK??
?What?s supposed to happen?? Keith asked.
?You?ll see.? Dr. Kramer tapped below Keith?s knee. There was no reaction
whatsoever. He tapped again, a little harder, taking more careful aim. Still
nothing. ?You feel this, don?t you, Keith?? he asked.
?Sure I do. It doesn?t hurt. Is it supposed to??
?No, not at all.? The doctor thought a moment. ?Hey, Keith. Can you close
your eyes for me for a minute? I?ll tell you when you can open them.?
Keith did so.
Dr. Kramer motioned for Janet?s attention. ?Distract him,? he mouthed
soundlessly.
Janet shrugged, uncomprehending.
?Distract him,? the doctor mouthed again, and pointed at a tuning fork.
Janet?s eyes widened. ?OK, Keith. Keep your eyes closed like the doctor
asked. I?m going to test your hearing, OK??
?OK,? Keith kept his eyes shut tightly.
Janet sounded the tuning fork and held it a few inches from Keith?s left
ear. ?Which ear?? she said.
At exactly the moment of her first syllable, Dr. Kramer tapped Keith?s knee
again. This time, he observed a good, healthy kick.
?Oooh! Uh, left ear! C above middle C.? Keith said. ?Can I open my eyes
now??
?Go ahead,? Dr. Kramer said.
Keith did so. ?Was that OK??
?Sure. You?re normal there. Sometimes when a boy watches the hammer,
the kick doesn?t happen. That?s why I had you close your eyes. Also so that Janet
could test your hearing. You did very well, by the way. How did you identify the
note??
?I just knew. Sounds like Mom?s piano, C above middle C.?
?Good enough.?
Dr. Kramer performed a few more tests. ?OK, Keith,? he said at last.
?That?s if. You are one extremely healthy boy! In fact, I can?t remember ever
examining a better body than yours. You should be proud.?
Keith blushed. ?Thanks. Can I get dressed now??
?Go ahead.?
Keith slipped easily into his clothes again and left the examining room for
the waiting room. Dr Kramer was already there, discussing Keith with Monica.
?Your boy is in wonderful shape,? the doctor said.
?But ? ?? Monica was uncertain. She knew Keith was tremendously
healthy, but she also knew that he was very unusual.
?But nothing! He?s terrific! Um, I?d like to schedule a couple of tests at the
hospital for him, if that?s ok with you. No problem, he?s fine! But the doctors there
should really get to get a look at a boy as fit and well as he is. He skews all the
curves up ? way, way up. Is that OK??
Monica shrugged. ?I guess. So long as he?s healthy, that?s all I care about.
Maybe the hospital can tell me why he?s so strong. Let me know when you want
him there.?
?I will.? Dr. Kramer extended his hand. ?Thanks, Mrs. Janssen, for letting
me examine probably the most perfect human specimen I?ll ever see. Bring him
back whenever you like!?
Monica giggled a bit. ?Sure. But I hope I won?t have to. Come on, Keith.
We?re done here.?
When they had left, Dr. Kramer turned to Janet without saying anything.
After a moment, Janet asked, ?What??
?I don?t know. You should have listened to his chest. I don?t know. He?s
healthier than anyone in history ? God help me, I?m not sure he?s human.?






Thunder Boy Chapter 2

?I wish I knew what tests the doctor wants the hospital to do with you,? Monica
said as she and Keith walked along the sidewalk to where she had parked their
car.
?Don?t worry, Mom. He said I was fine. He said I have a great body.? Keith smiled
and flexed his right bicep. The nine-year-old?s arm bulged to its full thirteen and a
half inch girth, nearly filling the sleeve of his loose shirt. He knew how big it was
because he had measured it the previous week.
?Well, I do worry. You haven?t seen a doctor since you were three and now he
wants to do tests on you. And you ARE an unusual boy, you know.? She smiled
as she saw him flexing. ?And you?re always SHOWING OFF!? She smacked his
tight, muscled rear end lightly.
Keith laughed. ?Hey, Mom, can I have a weight set? You know, for bodybuilding?
I want to look like those guys in the magazines! With the really huge muscles!?
?Now, Keith. You already look like those guys in the magazines with the really
huge muscles - ?
?Mom! I do not!?
?- and you?re probably as strong as they are, too, if not stronger ?? She sighed.
?I wish I knew why. I do worry.?
?My father wasn?t strong, was he?? asked Keith seriously.
?No, your father wasn?t strong. Not like you, anyway.?
?Maybe I?m adopted!? Keith said, giggling.
?Now, Keith, you know you?re not adopted. Why would you say such a thing??
Keith grinned. ?Relax, Mom. I?m kidding.? He saw that his mother was concerned
about his health and the trip to the doctor. Usually his smile would help her out of
her down mood, but this time it wasn?t working. He shrugged and continued
walking.
The road was sloping downwards at a steep angle. At the bottom of the slope,
the road took a sharp right turn. Monica?s car was parked only few steps further
on down the slope. She began fumbling in her purse for the keys as she and her
son walked.
An old, battered, white pickup truck passed them slowly, heading down the slope.
The truck was heavily loaded down with an alarming number of what looked like
old engine blocks from wrecked cars and trucks. The driver, riding the brakes
hard to keep the truck merely creeping along, was scanning the buildings,
looking for an address.
He spotted the building he was looking for. There was no place to park by the
curb, because too many cars were there already, so the driver simply double-
parked and shut off the engine. He left the truck and trotted up the walk to his
destination, leaving the driver?s door open. Whatever his errand, it was obviously
going to be very short.
The truck had stopped only about twenty or thirty feet beyond Monica?s car. As
she searched in her purse for the keys, Keith waited, idly watching the truck
driver. The man was middle-aged, heavy-set, mustached, wearing stained blue
overalls and an equally-stained matching cap.
A snap made him turn his head. Something was wrong with the truck! The brake
had let go, and the old, heavily-loaded vehicle was starting to roll down the hill.
The driver reacted instantly. He spun and ran as fast as he could back to the
driver?s door, grabbed the frame, and tried desperately to slow the vehicle down
so that he could get in and stop it. But it was gaining speed second by second,
and he could not hold it back, let alone get into it. ?Oh my God!? he yelled at last.
He couldn?t keep up to the speed of the truck anymore, and had to completely let
go. ?Help! Get out of the way down there!?
Young Keith reacted on pure instinct. Without thinking, the boy leapt over the
hood of his mother?s car and rocketed down the slope towards the truck. He
sprinted faster than he had ever moved in his life, somehow feeling stronger and
faster than he ever had. His body was so low that it was nearly horizontal, his
powerful thighs and glutes ramming his little feet so hard against the pavement
that they dug toeholds into the street itself, allowing him to accelerate to speeds
that defied belief. The driver, helplessly watching his overloaded truck speeding
down the hill, didn?t notice Keith until he heard the boy flash by him, sounding like
a power-pitcher?s fastball sounds to a batter when it is pitched too close to his
ear.
Keith caught up to the truck and grabbed the rear bumper. He swung his feet
forward in a remarkable athletic move and tried to bring the truck to a halt by
using his shoes as brakes against the pavement. But the mass of the truck was
far too great. Desperately, he slammed his heels into the pavement HARD,
forcing footholds into the asphalt, trying to take up some of the truck?s kinetic
energy in the muscles of his legs. The truck kept moving, slowed a little, and
Keith had to quickly release his foothold and ram his heels down again, further
on, making another one. This repeated, a rapid-fire BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM,
leaving heel-pits in the pavement as Keith slowed the truck still further. The boy?s
grip on the bumper was distorting the metal, and he risked releasing it with his
left hand and grabbing the tailgate. This helped.
Suddenly there was a double POP-POP, and Keith realized that the seams of his
pants had split under the pressure of his bulging thigh muscles. A second
afterward, his rippling, surging back and arm muscles burst through his shirt,
swelling to a size and strength they had never shown before. But he had no time
to wonder at this, so long as the truck kept rolling. He was aware of the driver
running hard after him, shouting. Keith couldn?t tell whether he was shouting
encouragement or trying to get him to stop this crazy stunt.
Finally the truck had slowed to the point where Keith could simply brake it by
sliding the remains of his shoes against the pavement. In a few more seconds,
gasping for breath, he brought it to a halt and held its huge weight in place while
the driver ran up, got in, and applied the brakes.
?Jesus! You crazy kid! Jee-zus! I?ve never seen ANYTHING ?? He started the
engine and slowly brought the truck around the corner to park it on level ground.
Keith let go when he heard the truck start. He slumped on the pavement, sitting
in his torn trousers, leaning back, supporting himself with his hands on the
pavement behind him. He could feel his heart pounding, the blood-rush sounding
like an express train in his ears. He was breathing hard and fast, sweat suddenly
pouring from his skin. He shook his head to clear it. He became aware of his
mother running up behind him. Before she arrived he finally stared,
dumbfounded, at his torn clothing, and at the suddenly huge muscles that had
ruined it. ?Holy cow!? he whispered, flexing his arm. His power-packed arm must
have measured sixteen inches all of a sudden. Just a minute ago it couldn?t have
been more than thirteen and a half. What had happened? His thighs were huge,
his back felt thick and swollen with immense strength. He was still trying to take
stock of all this when his mother arrived at his side.
?Keith! Keith! Are you all right? Keith ? !? She touched his shoulder and
momentarily recoiled as she felt the hot, hard, throbbing bulge of muscle. Then a
mother?s concern took over as she draped her arm around his wide shoulders
and studied his face. ?Oh, Keith ? what happened? Are you OK??
Keith?s breathing was now under control. ?I?m fine, Mom.? He gazed in awe at his
own bulging muscles. ?But how did ? I feel GREAT! But ?? He shook his head,
uncomprehending.
?Excuse me,? a huge, powerful baritone voice intoned behind them. Keith and
Monica turned to see a huge, masterful-looking man in a hat, with an eyepatch,
looming over them. He wore a long, dark coat, unbuttoned, revealing a huge
barrel chest clad in some kind of leather clothing ? clothing that resembled
ancient armor. He carried a long worn wooden staff he used as a walking stick.
?You both need to come with me. Right now.? There was something in his tone
that allowed no argument.
Monica and Keith stood up slowly. Monica?s mouth hung open as she took in his
sheer size and unusual clothing. ?Wh ? who are you?? she asked in a small
voice, trying to push Keith behind her to protect him.
?Do not fear me,? the giant said. ?Just come.? He beckoned to Keith and let his
craggy face break into a smile. ?Don?t worry, boy,? he said. ?I am your
grandfather. We are going to your home. Come!? And he flung his coat over the
two of them, and ? something happened ?

Monica could not later have said how they arrived at their house. The stranger
simply waved his coattails, there was a darkness for an instant, and they were in
the living room. And, she found out later, the car was in the garage. What had
happened?
But there they were, in the living room. The huge stranger closed the curtains
and turned on the lights. ?Sit down, both of you,? he said. That baritone seemed
to fill the whole house. And the simple sound of its might made any question
impossible. Keith and Monica sat, Monica on the couch, Keith on the floor in front
of her. Idly, the child flexed his muscles and marveled at their sudden hugeness
and power.
The stranger removed his enormous coat and threw it over a chair. He stood in
the center of the room and seemed to fill it, almost uncomfortable because the
room ? the whole house - seemed too small to contain him. ?You are wondering
who I am.? That huge voice of his sounded like an earthquake, though he was
almost whispering. The sound was almost that of a gigantic tiger, purring. ?Allow
me to introduce myself. My name is Odin. Many here in Midgard ? on Earth ?
have heard of me.?
Monica trembled. She knew of only one Odin. And she did not believe in Norse
gods. This man ? this HUGE man ? must be insane.
Keith did not tremble. This man glowed, as if some kind of energy shone through
his skin and eye. This was the same glow that some saw shining from Keith?s
own body, that gold-that-is-more-than-gold glowing beneath his human skin.
Keith RECOGNIZED this man, though he had never seen him before. He
recognized him as a member of his own true family. ?O ? Odin? The real Odin??
he asked at last.
?Yes, child. I am Odin. I am king of Asgard. I am chief of the gods of the North.?
Monica was scared. ?I ? don?t believe you,? she said, nervously fidgeting, unsure
of where to put her hands.
The huge man stood to his full height of nearly eight feet. ?I understand, human.
It is not usual for gods to walk among humans, so you have no experience of us.
But we exist. I am a god. I brought you and your son and your vehicle home.
With a wave of my hand I repaired the damage that my grandson ? ? he smiled
and winked at Keith ? ? inflicted on the pavement.?
?Wh- what?? Monica said.
?There is now no evidence, other than the three of us here, that Keith did what he
did on that street just a few minutes ago. Until you know what you are dealing
with, it is better for the world to be unaware.?
?Unaware of what??
?Of Keith.?
?Wait a minute. The PAVEMENT? What about the truck? The driver??
Odin chuckled. ?I was the driver, of course. And I brought the truck there the way
I brought you here. I made the brake release. Did you think that events like that
just happen at random??
?WHY?! Someone could have been hurt!?
?I would not have let that happen.? Odin paused. ?I needed to learn something
about Keith. I needed to know ? what he would do, and COULD do, when called
upon in a crisis.? Odin smiled at Keith. ?You did more than I expected, young
one.?
?What?s THAT supposed to mean?? Monica nearly shouted.
Odin took both Monica and Keith in with his single eye. ?Monica ? you have to
understand something. Keith, listen. Monica, your son is ? a demigod.?
?A demigod?? was all Monica could muster.
?A half-god, woman! You know what a demigod is! Your husband was not Keith?s
father. You?ve known for years, even if you did not admit it to yourself. Your
husband did not lie with you that night Keith was conceived ? how could he? The
one who lay with you, the one who gave you this wonderful boy here, was my
own son, Thor. You know of Thor, do you not? He is famous on Earth. He is the
god of thunder. And he is the strongest of all gods.?
Keith sat with his mouth agape. He could find no words. He felt his muscles, his
BULGING muscles, throb with almost uncontainable strength. He felt the power
of a god pulsate within him. He was nearly completely absorbed in himself,
exploring his body and its new dimensions.
?He ? he LOOKED like my husband ??
Odin snorted. ?An enchantment, of course. I looked like a truck driver a few
minutes ago. It is a simple matter for a god to change his form.? Odin stood
straight, enchanted himself, and shrunk down to the size of a normal man. Then
his features, his body, changed into the form of Michael Janssen, dead nine
years.
Monica screamed. ?My GOD! My GOD! Oh, Michael! Michael!? and broke down
in sobs. Keith wrapped his arms around her and held her, gazing seriously at
Odin. ?You?re scaring her!? he ordered. ?Change back!?
Odin winked Michael?s eye and smiled. He stood straight, as though at attention,
and in a second he had returned to his previous form. He touched Monica?s
shoulder gently. ?I know this is hard to accept. But you must accept it, and you
must do so of your own volition. I could, of course, bend your mind to my will, and
force you to believe, but you must believe for yourself. Nothing else will be true
enough.?
Monica sniffed. ?I don?t know what to believe anymore.?
Odin brushed her hair from her eyes. ?Look at me. Monica, look at me.? She did.
Odin almost whispered. ?There is something else I can offer you in evidence,
Monica.?
?What is that??
?Your son.? The god gestured towards Keith. Monica turned her eyes towards
him and took him in for the first time since this strange event began. Her boy was
dishevelled to say the least. His shirt had burst around his muscles and now
hung in tatters. His exposed body was astonishing, utterly unprecedented in
human experience. His waist was as small and tight as it had been previously,
but rippled with harder and stronger abdominal muscles than any child had ever
possessed. His chest and back had grown hugely. Thick, bulging muscles surged
across his back and pulsed with his breathing. His pecs were granite-hard and
swollen inches deep, ripped and strong. The sheer size of his upper body had
torn his previously loose shirt asunder. Mighty, power-packed arms had exploded
his sleeves, and young Keith could not stop flexing his huge biceps and
wondering at the power he seemed to suddenly possess.
?Look at your son. Look at Keith.? Odin gestured toward the child. ?It took me a
week to prepare an enchantment that would suppress his strength ? the strength
he gets from his father Thor. But look! The strength of Thor cannot be hidden!
Some small part of it breaks through even my spell, and now see what it has
done to Keith?s body! His muscles!? Odin stared at the boy, as if stunned by
Thor?s strength even now. ?Monica, if you do not believe in me, believe in your
own son. See his power! See a demigod! See a demigod and believe!?
Odin?s voice shook the house, his authority absolute.
Monica ran her shuddering fingers over Keith?s body. Keith grinned happily,
already accepting himself, and Odin. ?Kewl, huh, Mom? Look at my MUSCLES! I
feel so strong!?
Monica turned to Odin. ?Change my boy back the way he was. Please. Just
change him back! He?s ? not ? supposed ? to ? be ? this ? way!? She
began sobbing again.
Odin smiled. ?But you see, Monica, I cannot. My spell was supposed to keep him
as he was. But his own spirit and his father?s unstoppable strength broke through
my spell. His power is free now, and he knows it. There is nothing I can do
except help him free it all. Monica ? he IS supposed to be this way! This is why
he is here, this is why Thor fathered him. Midgard needs strength, for dire times
are coming.?
The god stood. ?Stand with me, young Keith. And get those torn garments off
yourself.?
Keith stood. With a grin, he tore the remains of his shirt off and flung them aside.
In a second he had done the same with his trousers. Now he was naked except
for his skimpy red thong, his new muscles bulging and pulsing with inhuman
strength. His skin almost glowed golden, as if a power shone within. It was the
same power he sensed in Odin. ?OK ? Grandpa.? He giggled.
Odin gave him a wide grin. ?My child, thank you for calling me that. It makes me
happy. Now understand, Keith, that you are not yet at your full strength. Your
body right now contains but a small fraction of your potential. My spell inhibits the
rest. I want you to know that, if I lift my spell, you will become far, far stronger
than you are even now.?
Keith took a big breath. ?OK.?
Odin closed his eye a moment, as if considering for the last time what he is about
to do. ?Keith. Listen to me. The doctor wants to do tests on you. My spell can no
longer prevent them from finding out about your ? unusual physiology. That is
why I tested you today. You passed.? Odin took a breath. He knew this was a big
step. ?Keith, I am going to give you the power to lift my spell and replace it. When
my spell is in place, you will revert to your normal body and will be able to carry
on your normal life. However, when my spell is lifted, your muscles will grow to a
strength no human has ever possessed. Do you understand??
?Yes, Grandpa.? Keith smiled again.
Odin reached out his hand and pressed his palm against Keith?s forehead. He
closed his eye and muttered something in a language Keith did not understand.
Keith felt a SOMETHING enter his mind. Something cloaked and potent,
something potentially dangerous. He trusted it.
Odin removed his had from the boy?s head. ?Keith. You must now try to resume
your normal form.?
?How??
?Will it. Just use your will.?
Keith closed his eyes and wished as hard as he could. Nothing happened.
Odin leaned to the boy?s ear and whispered. ?It may help if you speak the words
?Father, bring me home.??
Keith whispered the sentence under his breath. ?Father, bring me home.?
Instantly, his muscles shrank down to their normal, but still astonishing, size. His
body was back to what was normal for him, the same physique the doctor had
examined.
?Oh, Keith!? Monica breathed. ?Thank God you?re back to normal ??
?He is NOT!? Odin intoned. ?Only his body is, and only for now. You will have to
get used to this. Neither you nor Keith can go back now. Keith will know his
heritage ? Thor saw to that at his conception. I can do nothing to stop it. I have
decided that Keith is a noble enough demigodling that I will permit him his power
now.? The earthquake rumbling of his voice subsided into a whisper again.
?Keith. This is the test for you. I will give you the ability to lift the spell, so that you
will have your full strength. Be aware that this is not the strength of Thor. You are
simply Thor?s son, and you have a great deal of growing to do before you can
match his strength. But this will be the strength of a prince of Asgard, a child of
Thor, and THAT is a power to be reckoned with. Are you ready??
Keith closed his eyes. ?I am, Grandpa.?
?Then whisper ?Father, take me to Asgard.??
Keith hesitated a moment, standing straight and nearly naked, his bronze body
almost seething with the desire for power. ?Father,? he whispered at last. ?Take
me to Asgard.?
A rumble swelled in the distance. The sound rolled down from the sky around the
horizon, growing, crackling, and then finally booming with a crash that shook the
windows. It was the sound of thunder. And Keith?s muscles grew. His chest
swelled, pectoral muscles thickening by inches, power pouring into him. His back
muscles swelled, bulging with incredible new strength, steel-cracking might
seething within. The boy gasped as he felt tidal waves of sheer unbridled energy
pump into him, bulging him, bursting him ? he wasn?t sure he could take it.
?Arrrrgh!? he grunted, eyes tightly shut. ?RrrrrrrRRRRRrrrgh!?
?Keith! My God! Keith? Monica cried.
?Leave him!? Odin commanded in a voice that must be obeyed.
Keith?s young muscles pumped fuller, stronger, and still stronger. His huge
biceps seemed to burst from his skin as he flexed, bulging into split peaks of
mountainous might. He gaped at them, disbelieving the awesome sight of his
own mighty muscles!
His waist was still as small as it had ever been, but the tightening muscle
hardened and hardened further, his impenetrable abs becoming steel and
beyond steel. His thighs bulged with more muscle, cables of muscle erupting with
savage strength. His glutes hardened, packed with bulging power, taut and
young and naked, clamped on the strap of his thong.
At last the transformation was complete. Keith stood enveloped in glowing golden
power, as if his titanic bronzed muscles were oiled and gleaming with light. Every
flex brought some eye-popping muscle to powerful life, and Keith flexed
everything. ?Wow ?? he breathed, trying to get used to his new muscles. ?I feel
SO STRONG! I just feel ? STRONGER than ANYTHING!?
?You are NOT,? said Odin. ?There are things in the universe stronger than you.
Your father, for instance. Myself, for another. The mightiest of the rock trolls may
give you pause as well. An army of frost giants? That remains to be seen. But
you are NOT all-powerful. And Keith ? ?
The young demigodling, now jam-packed with mighty bulging muscles, ignored
him as he flexed, absorbed in himself.
?KEITH!!? Odin?s enormous voice shook the house.
Keith blinked. ?Yes, sir!?
?Do you understand now??
?Yes, sir!? The boy smiled, feeling godpower surging through his muscles.
?Look at your mother.?
Keith turned and saw Monica collapsed on her arm, crying. His jaw hung open.
?Mom ? it?s all right ??
?Tend to her, young Keith,? Odin said. ?You will need her. Reassure her.?
Keith turned to Odin. ?But how??
?You know how, child. Remember, the way to soothe her works for others, too.?
Keith turned back to his mother. He knelt before her and took her hands in his
own. ?I?m here, Mom,? he whispered. But still she cried.
Keith bowed his head until his forehead touched his mother?s fingers. ?Father,
take me home.? And his body returned to normal. ?Please, Mom, look at me.?
Monica rubbed her tears away and gazed at her beautiful son. ?Oh, Keith. How
are we going to live with this??
Keith turned for help from Odin, but the god had vanished.










Thunder Boy Chapter 3

Finally, Monica stopped crying. She wiped her face with a tissue from her purse,
blinked away the last tears, and gazed at her son?s face. ?I?m OK, Keith. I guess
this is just the way things will have to be.? She set her hand in his steel-hard
bronze shoulder and gently pushed him away. ?Let me look at you.?
Keith stood up and stepped away, letting Monica see him whole. All he wore was
his skimpy red thong, hardly covering his healthy bulge in front, and leaving his
buttocks entirely bare. His long, platinum-blond hair reached a little past his
powerful shoulders, framing his perfect, breathtaking face. His shining skin still
seemed lit with gold, highlighting his hard young pecs, long, defined belly, and
the tight, little-boy?s V of his crotch. His muscular, perfect legs rippled slightly as
he adjusted his balance, turning before her, showing off all sides.
His back was a relief map of bulging boymuscle even now, in his normal state.
Monica?s eyes followed the muscle-flanked spine down into the hollow at the
small of his back, then stopped as she appreciated his wonderfully-shaped, lean,
muscular glutes. Keith had a true bubble-butt, round and high, dimpled in at the
sides, with no crease at the base of the cheek, just a smooth curve into the
strong upper thigh. Monica smiled. Her son had a perfect athlete?s physique,
shaped as even Michaelangelo could never have conceived. He was so beautiful
that only a god?s seed could conceive him.
At last Keith turned around again to face his mother. ?I feel OK, Mom. Do I look
OK??
She nodded, smiling at last. ?You look the way I love you to look.? She paused.
?But now you have this ? power. No, don?t show me. That thunder will disturb
everyone. Keith ? what did he ? Odin ? mean when he said that dire times are
coming? That Midgard needs strength??
?I don?t know. I just know that I?m supposed to be strong. Thor - and you ? made
me so that I would be strong. Whatever is going to happen, I will have to be the
one to protect us.?
Monica nodded. ?I just hope for your sake, Keith, that you?re strong enough.?
Keith grinned. ?As Thunder Boy I feel strong enough for anything! Oh, boy, I can
hardly wait to change into him again ??
?Thunder Boy? Is that what you?re calling yourself??
?When I turn strong, Mom. In this body I?m Keith Janssen, just like normal. But in
THAT body, I?m Thunder Boy!? Keith?s grin grew wider. ?I?m a superhero!?
Monica frowned. ?Come on, Keith. Are you going to wear a mask and cape?
Superheroes aren?t real.?
?But I am! And no, I won?t wear a cape. It?ll just get in the way. And I won?t wear a
mask either. I?ll just wear this!? He pointed to his thong. ?My muscles would just
burst through anything else, as Thunder Boy!?
?Keith, you can?t go out in public like that. You?re practically naked!?
Keith grew serious. ?If I HAVE to go out as Thunder Boy, the public will have a
LOT more to worry about than what I?m wearing, I think.?
Monica sighed. ?This is going to take a LONG time to get used to ? Keith??
?Yes??
?Um, how strong are you? I mean, is Thunder Boy? How strong is Thunder Boy??
?I don?t know. But I felt stronger than anything! Mom, you can?t imagine that
feeling of ? of POOOWWWWEERRRRRR ?? Keith flexed his biceps, watching
them bulge, yearning for the much more massive and powerful bulge he would
see as Thunder Boy.
Monica smiled at him. ?Still want that weight set??
Keith laughed. ??So I can look like the guys in the magazines with the really huge
muscles!? Like, yeah, right!? Monica laughed. The held each other and laughed
together, and a huge burden was, for the time being, lifted. And Monica felt close
to her son again.

Keith lay in bed, eyes wide open at eleven thirty at night. He couldn?t sleep. He
could not get the feeling of POWER out of his mind. Try as he might, he couldn?t
relax. He simply HAD to test his strength! Not knowing, not FEELING Thunder
Boy?s mighty power throbbing in his young body was simply killing the boy. But
he could not transform into Thunder Boy without thunder (he HATED that, at the
moment), so his mother would know.
Keith sighed, turned on the light, and slipped out of bed. He stripped his pajamas
off and tossed them on the bed, wondering idly why he still bothered with
pajamas. Opening his dresser drawer, he found a clean yellow lycra thong and
slipped it on, loving the way the bright yellow fabric contrasted the deep bronze
tan of his gleaming skin. He set the thong strap comfortably between his glutes
and tugged the string sides up high and tight. He wriggled giddily, feeling
suddenly sensual knowing that he intended to wear only this thong away from the
privacy of his home.
He left his room and padded, barefoot and almost naked, to his mother?s
bedroom. Taking a breath to draw in courage, he knocked. ?Mom??
?Come in, Keith.? His mother?s voice from behind the door already sounded
resigned.
The boy pushed the door open. His mother was sitting up in bed, reading. She
couldn?t sleep, either. She put her book aside. ?You want to go out, don?t you??
Keith sighed. She always saw right through him. ?Yeah, I guess. I can?t sleep! I
need to try my muscles out!? He jumped on her bed and laid his head on the
pillow next to her.
Monica ruffled his hair affectionately. ?I know, son. Thunder Boy needs to spread
his wings.?
?Yeah ?? Keith smiled.
?Where are you going to go??
?I don?t know. I don?t know how strong or how fast I am. I don?t know how far I
can go.?
She kissed him on his forehead and wrapped her arms around his steely-
muscled body. ?Please, Keith. Be home by sunrise, OK? I don?t want you missing
school tomorrow.?
?OK, Mom.?
?And don?t get lost. You know where we are, don?t you? Can you find your way
home??
?I?ll find my way home, Mom. What kind of superhero can?t find his way home?
Monica smiled. ?Go ahead, son. Be back by sunrise. And don?t hurt anyone or
wreck anything. Anything valuable to anyone, I mean.?
Keith smiled back. ?I won?t. I promise.? He bounced off the bed and ran back to
his bedroom. Taking a deep breath, he opened his window wide. Wearing only
his tiny thong, he sat on the windowsill with one leg outside and the stars shining
above. ?Father,? he whispered. ?Take me to Asgard.?
The thunder rumbled and boomed as Keith lightly hopped out of his second-floor
window. It was nine-year-old Keith Janssen who jumped from the window, but it
was the mighty Thunder Boy who landed in the soft grass below.
And in her own room, Monica sobbed into her pillow.

Thunder Boy stood in his backyard, so strong he felt weightless. He took a
breath, delighting in the feel of his massive, powerful chest inflate. He could
FEEL the eagerness of his inexhaustible muscles; he could almost hear them:
?Unchain us ? let us FREE! Let us run!? He flexed his biceps. The muscles
bulged into huge boulder peaks, twenty inches of solid godmuscle! Muscle like
nobody had ever had ? who else had biceps whose girth exceeded twice his
age?
Thunder Boy felt great! He could not sense any limits to his strength, though he
knew such limits must exist. Odin had said so. He bounced on his toes a little,
just gently, then with a slightly stronger bounce he vaulted over the roof of the
two-storey house. He gasped in mid-air, worried about spinning out of control,
but found it effortless to maintain his orientation. He landed on the driveway in
front of the house, easily bouncing again on his toes. ?Whoa!? he breathed. With
a sudden inspiration, he vaulted again over the house, bouncing higher this time.
But this time, he deliberately landed upside-down, square on his head. He was
completely uninjured ? he barely noticed the impact ? and found it just as easy to
balance perfectly on his head, with no help from his hands. He righted himself
and brushed the grass from his hair. ?I can almost fly!? he thought.
Though it was dark, he noticed that he could see perfectly well. The darkness,
which as Keith Janssen would have troubled him, was no problem whatsoever as
Thunder Boy. He bent over and picked up a tiny stone from the back garden
path. He idly aimed at the stem of a flower in his mother?s flower beds, placed the
stone on the tip of his left index finger, and with his right hand, flicked the stone
at the stem. The aim was perfect: the stone severed the stem cleanly exactly
where he intended, and thudded into the earth beyond, several feet deep and
sending up a messy spray of dirt. ?Wow,? Thunder Boy whispered to himself.
He felt power in his legs and he needed to run. But where? Thunder Boy knew.
There was an abandoned strip mine about a hundred miles north. The town that
had supported it had been abandoned, as well. Everything valuable had been
removed long ago, but there was still some ugly steel structure in the mine, some
disused equipment, and a hundred square miles of nothing. Just what a
superhero needs to test his powers!
Thunder Boy knew the way. He started off by springing from his back yard to the
intersection of the first major street, perhaps a quarter-mile away. He was
amazed at the ease with which he could not only perform the leap, but knew
exactly how much power to use and exactly which direction to go, even though
he could not see his destination from his starting position. His power clearly was
not limited to muscular strength; he had, in addition, absolute knowledge of
direction and distance and a sense of place. ?Mom was worried about me getting
lost,? he thought to himself. ?No chance.?
He stood on the street corner for a moment, enjoying his near-nakedness and his
stupendous muscles under the streetlight. It was late enough that there were no
pedestrians around, and traffic was light. Nobody was around to see him, but if
there had been someone, he would have been proud to show himself off this
way. He looked, and FELT, magnificent!
He broke into a run, gently testing the strength of his legs and his speed as he
headed towards the freeway. Running was effortless ? he could barely feel the
impact of his bare feet on the sidewalk. He felt as though he was simply floating
over the concrete, gaining speed as his awesome body followed his every will. In
a few seconds he was traveling faster than the speed limit.
He saw a couple of cars ahead. Impulsively, to avoid being seen by their
occupants, he leapt up to the roof of a five-story building and continued gaining
speed, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, hearing the whistle and roar of the wind in
his ears as he sped along. Someone may have seen him, but he was moving so
fast, and so far away from the street level, that he was confident that nobody
would be able to tell that the blur was an almost-naked young boy with
impossibly huge, mighty muscles.
The freeway was just ahead. It was at the edge of town; there were no buildings
beyond it. Thunder Boy gave a big leap from the last building, only four stories
tall, and flew high in the darkness over the freeway, landing a hundred meters on
the other side. He absorbed the impact of landing with unconscious ease with the
muscles in his mighty legs. He had just run over five miles at speeds up to ninety
miles per hour and he felt no more fatigue than if he had simply jogged the length
of his back yard. He wasn?t sweating or breathing hard, and his heart rate had
not changed. ?Wow ?? he whispered to himself. He flexed his enormous biceps
and savored their huge, perfectly-shaped steel-hard peak, gleaming in the
moonlight, feeling like all the power in the world was packed into that incredible,
throbbing muscle. ?Power!?
He took off at a fast run straight north, parallelling the freeway but beside it, just
out of range of the lights of the cars going by. Easily he outraced the cars,
sprinting faster and faster. The wind resistance built, and he found that to
maintain his body?s stability he needed to duck low under the wind. He also found
that it helped greatly to keep his arms and hands forward, pointing ahead almost
like he was diving horizontally through the air. The rush of air in his ears almost
made him giddy with glee as he hit two hundred miles per hour. And he kept up
that speed, minute after minute, over hills and mountain passes, around
sweeping curves, leaving widely-spaced boy footprints in the hard-packed rocky
soil beside the freeway.
A half hour was all it took to cover the hundred miles to the abandoned mine.
Thunder Boy knew he could have done it faster, but he was still exploring his
abilities and needed to know how much the run would take out of him. Very little,
as it turned out. He was panting a little at the end of the run, his heart rate was
up considerably, as well, and a light sheen of sweat coated his bronze skin,
making the natural gleam and glow of his overmuscled body more intense. He
stood, his vast strength making him virtually weightless, and looked the site over.
The mine pit was huge. It was two miles across and nearly a half-mile deep, with
walls tiered inwards to allow for spiral roads for the enormous mining trucks that
had carried the ore from the pit. Against the near wall, at the top rim of the pit,
there were several old buildings ranging from single-story offices to huge barnlike
structures containing some of the old ore-processing equipment. Most of the
equipment was gone, but the enormously thick reinforced concrete foundations
that had supported it were still there, built into the side of the pit wall. And there,
below the buildings, were two of the gigantic mine trucks, long unused and
rusting, but intact. There was also an old grader. And in the bottom of the pit
there was one of the largest moving machines ever constructed: a walking
dragline.
The young superkid grinned. Nobody was around! The nearest person, other
than drivers passing on the freeway, had to be over ten miles away. This was
one of the most isolated places in the state. ?Time to make some SERIOUS
noise!? Thunder Boy said to himself.
He stood by a plain rock wall, and looked around, hoping there was nobody
around. He felt a bit silly, knowing that his enhanced senses were fully sharp
enough that he was sure no one was near. Smiling to himself for his foolishness,
he shrugged. ?Here goes,? he whispered. He balled up his fist, and ?
BAM! He slammed his fist into the rock wall, burying his arm up to the elbow. An
enormous, splitting crack blew fifteen feet straight up the rock wall in a tiny
fraction of a second, and opened almost a foot at the top. A huge boulder had
simply broken free from the rock wall, tons of sheer dead weight, with one easy
punch!
?Wow,? Thunder Boy said to himself. While he could feel the impact easily, and in
greater detail than he had ever felt anything as Keith Janssen, ?That didn?t hurt at
all.?
Impulsively he reached down to the base of the boulder he had just punched free
and jammed his powerful fingers under it. He settled into a squat, bounced his
hard, bare young buttocks on his little heels, wondering if he could really move it.
With a cautious tug upwards, he rocked it. ?Wow ?? he whispered. He looked
down at his torso, at his huge, thick pec muscles, at his bulging, supercharged
biceps. He had FELT like he had enormous strength before, but this was the first
time he tested it. Now he BELIEVED in it.
He pulled up hard, flexing those mighty biceps, and the huge boulder tipped up.
Slowly he stood up, rocking the boulder back farther until it was jammed against
the rest of the rock wall. Thunder Boy, feeling his gigantic power, squatted low
again and eased his bulging body under the boulder, lifting, bracing the immense
weight against the rock wall until he could balance it. His right hand found the
point, and the powerful child shoved upward, and the entire weight of the boulder
lifted from the ground! He stood straight, easily, settling his feet a bit more than
shoulder width apart, and arched his back slightly, so that he could use his chest
muscles to push upwards. He felt his little thong caress him as he stretched his
supermuscled little body out. Now he shoved upwards with both hands, taking
the weight on his arms, feeling every ounce of the mass he was lifting. The
boulder weighed twenty tons, perhaps more, but Thunder Boy found that he had
little trouble simply pressing it over his head!
For several seconds, he simply marveled at his own strength, at the ease with
which he had lifted this massive rock, and at the ease with which he was now
supporting it. Its mass, its asymmetry, made it very awkward to balance, but
Thunder Boy found this easy to overcome in a matter of seconds. Mastering the
boulder, he bounced it a little in his hands, catching the balance point in his right
hand. Daringly, he let his left arm fall to his side and supported the entire mass of
the rock with his right arm! And with each passing second, the boy seemed to
become more aware of the depths of his immense strength, and holding the rock
became easier.
This was something Thunder Boy had not expected. Never having tried his
strength before, he simply did not understand just how powerful he was. So when
he first lifted the boulder, it felt heavy because it was by far the biggest thing he
had ever lifted, and he was EXPECTING it to be heavy. But as he got used to the
idea of holding it over his head, he realized that he was not yet approaching the
limits of his strength. His huge, power-packed muscles had much more in
reserve than he was using even now.
He bounced the boulder in his hand again, and gazed slyly at the enormous
depth of the pit below him. Suddenly, like an Olympic shot-putter, he threw the
gigantic boulder towards the center of the pit and watched it sail out, over the
tiers of the road, clearing all of them, falling, falling, and then smashing itself to
pebbles on the bedrock of the pit with a sound like a sudden thunderclap. And
Thunder Boy laughed. He reared back and inflated his chest as big as he could
make it, flexing the most incredible double-biceps pose ever flexed on Earth. The
titanic peaks of his awesome boymuscle practically exploded with the Asgardian
power packed within. ?I?m THUNDER BOY!? he shouted over the mine pit. His
young voice, still a boy?s treble, rang with immense power and echoed and re-
echoed around the pit walls.
He leapt down to the roadway, where the enormous trucks were parked. Though
the moonlight was dim and the shadows deep in the old mine pit, Thunder Boy
found he had no trouble seeing. His godblood carried much more than sheer
strength. He was able to read a large sign on the enormous mining truck that
gave its specifications. It read:
Komatsu 930-E3
Total Empty Weight, 50% Fuel: 459,836 lb.
Total Maximum Loaded GVW: 1,100,000 lb.
There were more specifications, regarding the weight distribution, hydraulic
system, and so on, but Thunder Boy was interested in the weight of the machine
more than anything else. The vehicles were empty, but even so, each of the two
enormous machines weighed 230 tons! And each weighed 550 tons fully loaded!
Each one empty weighed at least ten times what the boulder weighed.
The wheel alone of the truck was nearly twice Thunder Boy?s height. The whole,
huge vehicle was taller than a two-story house and over fifty feet long! Thunder
Boy had never seen a vehicle this huge. Slowly, the nearly-naked powerkid
circled the truck, looking it over from all angles. After the boulder, he felt
confident that he could lift this beast of a machine from the ground, in spite of its
enormous size.
He stopped at the front of the truck. Just underneath there was a crossbeam only
about three feet off the ground. He ducked down under the front bumper and
grabbed this beam in his hands. With a surge of his mighty strength, he thrust
upwards. The suspension sagged, gravity pulling the wheels down, but as he
rammed it to full extension, he saw the front tires lift from the ground! It was
considerably heavier than the boulder, but not a problem for the muscle-packed
little demigodling. His confidence increased ? pressing this vehicle over his head,
empty, was not going to be a problem. He would need a greater test of his
strength.
Thunder Boy had an idea then. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed the steel he held
with his fingers, hard, and felt the incredible pressure he was exerting as the
steel crumpled inwards. ?Power!? he breathed as his fingers sank into the solid
metal. Simultaneously, he pushed upwards with his left hand and, using the grip
he had made with his right hand, he pulled his right hand down. He was tearing
the support crossbeam apart! With a huge ripping grinding scream, the hardened
steel crumpled, split, stretched, and snapped in two!
?Wow ?? Thunder Boy whispered to himself. Still holding the massive front end
of the truck aloft, he forced the two halves of the crosspiece apart. His lats and
triceps swelled hugely, feeling their vast strength for the first time. His muscles
felt their enormous, supercharged strength exert itself, and it felt to them like the
lungs of a man trapped too long underwater who finally surfaces and takes a
huge breath. The freedom of strength exalted Thunder Boy?s heart, and as his
muscles overpowered the steel of the truck, his spirit soared. ?Yeah!? he cried out
in joy as steel simply crumpled in his mighty hands.
With a sudden, joyous surge of sheer power he rammed his fists into the broken
undercarriage of the huge truck above him, driving it up and flipping it onto its
back. Muscles exploding with outrageous strength, he flexed his colossal biceps,
muscles that swelled to the size of peaked pumpkins, and howled
?YEEAAAAHHH!? into the sky, so exultant he felt himself almost float into the air
on the energy of his own glee.
He leapt up onto the damaged truck, determined to reduce it to scrap. He gripped
one of the huge wheels in his little hands and just ripped it from the remains of its
axle. Laughing, he threw it into the cargo bed of the other truck. The other wheels
he treated the same way. In a frenzy of ultramuscle-bulging mayhem the young
superboy tore, crushed, crumpled, split, and simply destroyed the tempered steel
of the truck?s body, using his fantastic strength to either compress the steel into
small pieces or tear it up, reducing it to dense scrap pieces he tossed into the
other truck. At last, after several minutes of furious, metal-mashing work of
deafening noise, the entire truck was shredded and packed into the bed of the
second truck. The second truck plus its load now weighed 460 tons. Thunder Boy
smiled.
He ducked under the front of the second truck and took its crosspiece in his
hands. He felt strong enough to easily lift the immense load, but this would be his
greatest test so far, so he approached it cautiously. He applied pressure
gradually, lifting up, straightening his back and thrusting with his arms. Once
again, he was rewarded with the sight of the front wheels coming clear of the
ground. It felt heavier than the empty truck, but not enough to truly challenge his
immense power yet. There had to be more, more weight, more sheer load, to
challenge a boy with the strength of Thunder Boy!
The megamuscled young powerkid sprang easily to the huge ore processing
building about a hundred yards away. He had confidence now. Rearing back
and bracing his back foot, he balled up his right fist and SLAMMED it into the
reinforced-concrete foundation of the building. The shock was incredible as the
concrete powdered and split under his fist. The rock he stood on cracked with the
reaction force. His arm rammed in up to his elbow, tearing through rebar like a
sledgehammer through spaghetti. Massive cables of straining supermuscle
throbbed and swelled across his back as he shoved both hands into the crack he
had made and split off an enormous, thirty-ton chunk of the foundation. He had
learned to master his balance as he lifted objects far heavier than he was
himself, so it was with absurd ease that he hefted this mass of concrete and
twisted, torn steel in his right hand and threw it into the back of the truck as well.
WHAM! Again he smashed a huge piece of reinforced concrete free. This one
was much larger than the earlier one ? perhaps fifty tons. Again he threw it into
the truck, where it crashed into the other cargo with a deafening noise. Heaps of
concrete and scrap steel were now piling up in the loadbed of the truck. It was
nearing its load capacity.
Thunder Boy just kept hammering away at the building?s foundation, taking
massive chunks of concrete and steel and loading the truck with them. The
building was collapsing around him as he worked, but its structure was flimsy,
and he just ripped it away as he needed to. POWER was what counted here! It
took hardly a fraction of his unbelievable strength to tear the thin tin walls apart,
or to shatter the simple concrete-block supports. Any steel that got in his way
was simply grist for the mill. Thunder Boy took it, crumpled it, crushed it, tore it,
utterly destroyed it, and added it to the truck?s enormous load.
In a few minutes, the suspension of the truck was sagging dangerously low.
There were far too many tons of debris, of wrecked concrete and torn steel, piled
into the truck. And the mightiest boy on earth just kept piling it on! The load was
huge now, hundreds of tons beyond the suspension?s design capacity, when a
sudden SNAP and blast of sick bent steel cracking stone NOISE came from the
truck as it simply buckled under the load. Its wheels were splayed out at crazy
angles. Its belly was flat against the rock floor. It had lost. Thunder Boy had won.
?Finally!? the supercharged boy said to himself. He once again positioned himself
at the front of the truck, digging his hands into the rock to claim his usual
crosspiece handhold. His nearly-naked body was covered with concrete dust,
ghostly white, streaked with dark lines of sweat over his throbbing, gigantic
muscles. Now he began to force the broken truck out of the rock prison. First his
legs bulged with straining superhuman quads, exerting unutterable thrust into the
rock as he PULLED the huge, thirteen-hundred-ton mass to its knees before him.
?Come on!? he gasped as he powered the dead weight upwards. His young legs
took the load and more as he straightened his knees. Taking a breath, he
swelled his huge chest, incredible muscles bulging and writhing all over his upper
body, as he drew himself to full height, taking the load on his mighty back. At last,
confident now in his tremendous strength, he began curling upwards with his
arms.
Biceps like these have never been seen on Earth. Titanically bulging from his
small frame, his pumped arms inflated to over twenty-two inches of girth. The
peaks were massive, cragged shapes of dense, eye-popping supermuscle, dual
heads practically bursting from his skin! Power exploded from his stupendous
biceps as the immense load lifted further, higher, clearing his shoulders! Now he
pressed up overhead, feeling exultant power massing and bulging and straining
in every incalculably-mighty muscle in his body, each beat of his heart driving his
mind-boggling muscles BIGGER and STRONGER! The whole front end of the
truck rose, slowly, and then powerfully into the air!
Thunder Boy grinned as he felt waves of strength grow in his hypermuscles! He
began to walk forward, each step cracking the bedrock underfoot ? the earth
itself could not take the pressure of the 1300 tons of dead weight now being
carried on the two bare feet of one young, impossibly-powerful boy! And yet the
earth held together somehow as the back end rose clear of the rock. Now,
unbelievably, the entire mass was held aloft by one young nine-year-old boy,
sweat plastering his white-blond hair to his forehead, naked but for a sweat-
soaked yellow thong, wet and clinging. This boy?s muscles pumped, burst,
exploded with insane might! Slowly he pressed upwards, thrusting with
inconceivable strength, until at last, the entire immense, steel-crushing weight
was held at arm?s length over his head!
He was gasping with the effort, but he felt GOOD! All that strength, all that power
thundering in his elephantine muscles, EXPLODED into new bulging relief as he
reared back and THREW over a thousand tons of crumpled steel and crushed
concrete far, far out over the tiered road, down a thousand feet into the middle of
the pit. An immense CRASH roared from the depths on impact, an impact
registered on seismographs for a hundred miles around.
Thunder Boy?s mighty chest heaved as he relaxed his gigantic muscles. The
strain had been huge, but he now had some idea of the extent of his vast
strength. He had done enough. It was time to go home.
Half an hour later, after a short dip in a local reservoir to clean himself off,
Thunder Boy stood in the darkness outside his bedroom window. With a light hop
he landed sitting in his windowsill and swung his legs inside. ?Father, take me
home?, he whispered to himself. And when he set his feet on his own bedroom
floor, he was young Keith Janssen once again, beautiful, strong, but nearly
normal.
He knocked on his mother?s bedroom door. ?Mom??
?Come in, Keith.?
He opened the door and smiled, jumping onto his mother?s bed, still only wearing
his damp thong. Monica ruffled his wet hair, relief in her eyes. ?Did Thunder Boy
have fun??
?Oh yeah! Mom, you should have seen me! I went ??
?Keith!?
?Yeah??
?Do me a favor and don?t tell me, ok? You?re home and it?s before school ??
?But Mom, it was AMAZING ??
?And I think I?m going to read about it in the papers tomorrow. Keith??
?Yes??
?Just go to sleep. Thanks for coming to let me know you?re home safe. I don?t
think I?ll worry too much in the future. But this is a lot to get used to for me, so
bear with me over the next while, OK??
?OK, Mom. I love you.? Keith leaned over her face and kissed her.
?Goodnight, honey. I love you too.?

[rextorres]

That's the story. You're very brave; posting someone else's story! Well, this is something like 5 or 6 years old and it doesn't look like it will ever be continued, unfortunately. What a shame. I have thought about writing a continuation to this story, but my writing style and level doesn't even come close to that of Lead Guitarist. This still remains as one of my all-time favorite stories on this forum.