Up-Sized Neighborhood, part-1

[muscle16a]

PLEASE let me know what you think. Comments, Questions, Criticisms, Concerns, Complaints, Kudos, Critiques, or anything else beginning with a 'k' sound are welcome!
------------------------------------

Up-Sized Neighborhood
by Muscle16a

[email protected]
[email protected]

Part One: An Eventful Trip

I can't say I was thrilled to hear that my family was moving to south Florida. Not that life was so great in the upper peninsula of Michigan - the weather sucks most of the time, and there's not much to do in my neighborhood. We lived in one of those "planned communities" where all the houses look exactly the same, and you need a car to get anywhere. My friends and I would ride our bikes around, with nowhere fun to go, and nothing much to do except hang out and read comic books or play video games and BS with each other. But it was still my home, the place I was used to, and I really didn't relish the thought of making a whole new group of friends in a whole new neighborhood. On the other hand, I realized that this might be my opportunity to make a change in my life: A change from what I was to what I wanted to be - strong and muscular. Like the boys that made my mouth get dry and my dick stiffen. Yeah, I am a fag. Jake the fag. I knew it even then, and wasn’t happy about it.

I just turned 14 in April, and was really happy to have finally graduated, two weeks before the move, from Junior High - a place where the boys who get good grades (like me) are way less popular than the boys who have strong muscular bodies and are good at sports (which I was not). It’s not that I was ugly or fat or something like that. Actually, I think I was not bad looking (my Mom insists that I was gorgeous, but you know how Moms are), and about 5'5" at the time, which is average for a 14 year old boy (if you don‘t believe me, look here: http://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nhanes/...l/cj41l021.pdf), but all I felt was small. I have dark brown almost-black hair and green eyes and long, almost girlish, eyelashes. But I was skinny and weak. I know that being smart is much more important in life than being strong and fast and well-coordinated and buff, but knowing a thing is very different from living that thing! What I wanted was to be one of the boys with hard muscles who could throw a football well; one of the boys who armwrestle in the lunchroom to see who was the strongest. Instead, I was one of the boys who knew how properly to use a semicolon. Whoop-di-doo for me. But I was what I was; and in Junior High, it's not very easy to change identities. I was a brain, not a jock, and as long as I lived in Michigan I would remain locked in my current identity.

So, as the day arrived for packing up the moving truck and the minivan for the long drive to Fort Lauderdale, the sadness I felt was mixed with not a small amount of anticipation. In fact, as I woke up that morning in my soon-to-be ex-bedroom, I felt a very strong feeling of optimism. Maybe this would be the start of something better, something more satisfying. Maybe I would finally meet a cute and hot boy to kiss . . . who would want to kiss me back! THAT had been on my mind for a couple of years, but of course I hadn't done anything about it. As I stepped over my packed bags and boxes and made my way to the bathroom to shower, I have to admit that I felt good about the new phase of my life that was about to begin. I turned on the shower water, and while waiting for it to get hot, I glanced in the mirror and noticed the tent in my pajama pants. Nothing out of the ordinary about that - I had been waking up with "morning wood" every day since I was eleven or so. I took off my pajamas revealing my pale white stick-figure of a body, depressed at how skinny I was: 5’5” and 97 pounds of skin and bones. The original authentic 97 pound weakling, that’s me! I made a quick biceps flex, frowned at the smallness and softness of the bump in my arm and the lack of ridges in my stomach and the abundance of ridges in my chest (my easily visible ribs were not exactly the kind of ridges I wanted to see on my torso), and stepped under the water to clean up. And, of course, to pop-off a quick one (my morning ritual since before I was 12). The hot water felt so good as I used first my left hand, and then my right hand, and finally both hands, to release the tension in my groin. Today, now that I am more experienced about this subject, I understand that in fact I should have been proud of the size of my dick. At just over 7 inches long (yes, I had measured it many times before, as I suppose all boys do) it was much bigger than most 14 year olds. Heck, 7" is above average for an adult!. But back then, I was ignorant about such things. All I knew is that I liked the way it felt. And, of course, I was thinking about boys during the act: Cute, muscular jock-boys.

Movers arrive, friends stop by on their bikes to say goodbye, promises are made about calling and texting, etc., etc. Kinda depressing. But eventually my mom, dad, little sister Miriam and I got on the road. It was going to be a long trip to Fort Lauderdale - about 28 hours of driving in total - and we were going to do it in three days. The first night we spent just outside of Pittsburg, PA, at a chain motel across the street from a shopping center. I noticed a clothes store for girls, and a really big Borders Books.

"Richard," mom said to dad while eyeing the clothes store, "I need to get some things for Miriam. Do you boys want to come with me?"

"Not me," replied dad. "I'm beat from all that driving. I'm just going to lie down here for a bit before dinner."

"Me neither, mom," I said. "I want to go to the book store."

"Books, books, books, that’s all you ever think of," said Miriam. "Don't you have enough books already?"

"I like books," I said, and stuck my tongue out at her. She returned the favor.

"Stop it, you two," my mother said. "Jake, honey, you have fun. But be back here in an hour and we’ll head out to dinner."

At 14, this was hardly the first time I was allowed to go off on my own into a store, but it still made me feel grown up to do so. This Borders' was a really big one, with two stories and a ton of books on every subject you could think of. I started off in science fiction, as usual - nothing new that interested me. Same thing in Fantasy. Then I headed towards the comic books in the back, but as I was passing the sports section, I saw small signs listing sub-categories of sports: Baseball, Soccer, and so on. And then a little sign that stopped me cold: "Fitness and Bodybuilding" it said. Of course, I had to take a look. But all the books seemed to be about adult bodybuilding, with the professionals that were over twice my age and just too huge to interest me. One title, however, caught my eye. It said on the spine of the book "Beginning Bodybuilding for Teens." I looked around, and saw nobody else in the area, so I pulled the book off the shelf. On the cover was a boy about 16 or so, not too big but very fit - like a high school jock rather than a bodybuilder. He was doing a barbell curl, and his biceps were bulging nicely. My dick started to stiffen. I turned a few pages and realized that this was a pretty serious book, with about 60 or more pages dealing with physiology and the biology of muscle growth for boys, about 100 or so pages with several different training routines, a lot of diet advice about protein and supplements and the like, and a whole lot more. There were actually very few pictures, but that didn't bother me. As I already told you, I'm a brain. I love books, and for me words could be as stimulating as pictures. Well maybe not as stimulating, but nearly so! Plus, I remembered my thoughts from that morning: I was going to create a new identity in Florida. Learning all I could about bodybuilding was probably the best way to start that journey. Typical conclusion for a brain like me: Buy a book.

Somehow I managed to build up the courage to take the book to the counter and pay for it. I don't think I could have done that back in Michigan - I would have been too afraid that somebody I knew would have seen me and made fun of me for it. Yeah, I know, I was really pathetic. But somehow, being in a strange town in a strange state where I didn't know anybody gave me courage. I paid for the book, and with it tightly in my arms, ran back to the motel. Opening the door quietly, I saw dad asleep on one of the beds. I snuck in and was heading for the bathroom for a bit of alone time (you know what I mean) when I heard my mother and sister coming up towards our room. I quickly stuffed the book into the bottom of my travel bag, and then the door opened. Nothing more worth telling about happened that night, except that my mind was totally focused on that book at the bottom of my bag. I couldn’t wait to get to our new house where I would have some privacy to read it. I didn’t want to take it out in front of my family - I was afraid that mom and dad wouldn’t approve. Or something like that. And also, the beds at that motel sucked! I woke up the next morning with aching muscles from that lousy mattress.

The second day of driving was just as boring as the first, except my mind kept going back to that book in my bag. I closed my eyes and dozed most of the day, thinking about bulging muscles and cute boys and big hard dicks dripping with cum. But what happened the second night was something I would never forget . . . something that would change my life in a way that I could have never imagined even in my most erotic dreams. About an hour outside of Charleston, South Carolina, the second night motel was one of those discount places, clean but cheap. After sitting in a car for two straight days, and sleeping on a crappy bed in the same room as my entire family the night before, I was cranky and achy and not too happy. Mom suggested I take a walk to loosen up before dinner, which I did. It was a warm evening, like the late June Southern night it was. Warmer than Michigan in June, with a good amount of light still in the sky at 7 pm. So I started walking, and after sitting in the car all those hours, the light exercise felt good.

The motel was right off the highway in a pretty rural area and next to a large woods with a stream running through it. I was walking around for quite a while, fairly deep into the woods, when I heard the unmistakable noise of boys around my age. I stopped and looked around, and after a few seconds I saw a tree-house. Yes, an actual tree-house like in the movies about the 1950s. I had never seen one for real before, and was curious as to what kind of kids lived around there, so I crouched down to spy on whatever was going on. I couldn't see anything inside the tree-house, but I did hear a lot of laughing roughhousing and joking going on. I shifted in closer, stealthily moving from tree to tree to remain hidden. The voices became audible.

"Dude! Look at my biceps! And only six days after taking those pills!" This voice came from a really young sounding voice - high pitched, like a boy who hadn’t started puberty yet. As you might imagine, my interest piqued, my breathing became shallow, and my dick started to stiffen. I crouched even lower to the ground and continued to listen.

"Yeah, Mikey, and you haven’t even lifted weights like we have," replied a slightly older sounding voice, with just a hint of the telltale squeak of a boy in the early stages of puberty, like around my age. "Soon you’ll be as buff as Tim and me. I told you those pills were the real deal and not fake!"

"I know," the younger voice, Mikey I guess, said. "Do you think I should take another one?"

"No way, you already took two," said a third voice, Tim I suppose. "The instructions said only one the first night and one the second night and no more. That’s all that Billy and me took, and that’s all we needed to look like this!" I then heard grunting noises, as if there was some muscle flexing going on inside that tree-house. Oh, if only I could have been a fly on the wall, or have gone invisible for a minutes. I REALLY wanted to see what was happening. Instead, I stayed perfectly still and silent. My dick, however, was now at its maximum hardness and was starting to strain against my jeans.

"Not just pills, dude," said the first voice. Billy, I guess. "We’ve been lifting like mad for four weeks now. It’s the pills PLUS the workouts that did it."

"But we have two more pills we didn’t use," said Mikey. "What should we do with them?"

"Let’s give ‘em to Georgie. He would look so awesome with big muscles!" That was Billy again.

"Dude! You’re just saying that because you have the hots for George," Tim said mockingly.

"Oh yeah? And you don’t?" replied Billy. "Come on. Let’s leave these last two pills hidden here and invite Georgie to join our muscle club." A pause, and then "Put your dick back in your pants, Tim. Save it for when Georgie gets here."

"I can’t help it," said Tim. "I’m so horny and my huge dick feels SO good."

"Just wait, dude," replied Billy, "and I’ll let you fuck me again."

"YEAH!" said Tim loudly. "I’ll wait, if that’s my reward."

"Hey! I want to fuck you too!" It sounded funny to hear that coming from the high pitched voice of what was obviously a pre-teen.

"Maybe after a few weeks of weights, Mikey. You’re looking much more strong and buff now than six days ago, even without any lifting, but you’ll need a whole shit-load more muscle if you want to fuck my hot ass!"

"OK. Let’s get George, then. He is really hot!"

"Not as hot as me!"

More laughing and grunting, and then I saw a trap door in the bottom of the tree-house open up. I pressed myself against the ground behind the large tree I was hiding behind, and prayed the boys wouldn’t see me. Slowly, three young guys came down the ladder. They all were shirtless, and I could see bulges of rock hard muscle in their back, arms and shoulders as they climbed down. The first two looked to be about my age or so, maybe even a year or so younger by the look of their faces, and seemed to be around my height of 5'5" . . . well, maybe an inch or so taller. But they had muscles! Bulging, ripped muscles that writhed and rippled with their movements. They had broad shoulders capped with muscle sticking out like softballs, firm-looking chests, rounded and ripped that stuck out well past their ribcages, bulging biceps with veins running up and down from wrist to shoulder, triceps that showed their shape and bulged even with their arms bent, and absolutely shredded abs that it would be an insult to call mere 6-packs. I could even see several veins running vertically from those awesome muscled yet tiny waists down into their low-hanging shorts towards their crotches, which bulged out quite a bit more than you’d expect to see on a young teen. Heck, their crotches bulged out more than most adults (and I should know, as glancing at guys crotches had become sort of a pastime for me over the past few years). Their tiny waists combined with their amazingly broad muscular shoulders gave them a breathtaking V-shape to their torsos. Even their legs (what I could see below their shorts) bulged with muscle - something rare in guys my age, even jocks who lift weights but usually ignore their leg and calf muscles. And they also had small round bubble-shaped butts that made my mouth water. The third boy, Mikey I guess, was clearly younger than me. He had that little boy look to his face and was probably no more than 5 feet tall. Probably under 5 feet. I would guess he was about 10 or 11 at the most. But his body much better than any 11 year old boy I’ve ever seen: He had clearly visible biceps and shoulder muscles, 6-pack abs, a muscular chest (not big, but bigger than you’d expect on a kid his age), and a nice V-shape to his torso. And he too had veins running up and down his arms and down from his abs towards his dick, which bulged far more than any 11 year old had a right to bulge. Just like his older friends, not nearly as big or as bulging and not quite as vascular but just as defined and rock-hard looking. I tried to blend in to the background, didn’t move a muscle, and prayed that they didn’t walk in my direction.

They didn’t. Instead, they jumped the stream with an ease that amazed me. They flexed their muscular legs and jumped across that stream like they were high school track and field athletes, and began to walk away from where I was hiding, laughing and punching each other’s shoulders and talking and joking and flexing and feeling each others’ muscles and crotches all the way. In a minute they were out of sight, and a minute later they were out of earshot as well. But what I had heard had made a strong impression on me, and I knew I needed to act. And act fast. With a burst of courage which was very unlike me, I ran up to the tree-house, climbed up the ladder and through the trapdoor, and took a look around.

I saw on the floor a few muscle magazines (my favorite!) With what was obviously cum stains all over them - I almost sat down and began to look at them, but I wasn’t there for magazines. I couldn’t help but notice splashes and drops of cum almost everywhere! The tree-house stunk of sweat and cum, and even though it was gross it was really turning me on. I also saw some comic books, some candy wrappers, a couple of fishing poles and a can of dirt with some worms in it, a massively cum-stained pair of Fruit-of-the-Loom size extra-small briefs (which, I have to admit, I picked up and took a good whiff of. My dick got even harder, if you can believe that). A Nintendo DS, a whole lot of garbage, a few apple cores, orange rinds, a pair of dumbbells with what looked like 80 pounds of weight on each of them (I tried to pick them up but they were too heavy to lift), a poster on the wall of some adult bodybuilder flexing his muscles, and a rubber dildo about 8 inches long which, from the brownish stains and dried cum on it, was clearly well-used. But no pills. Frantically, I kept looking for what the boys had been talking about. I knew it was hidden here somewhere, that’s what they said. Finally, after about 10 minutes of desperate searching I felt something shift under my feet - a loose board! I bent down, lifted up a piece of the wooden floor that was loose, and holding my breath I looked underneath. Between the floor of the tree-house and the branches on which it sat, there it was: A little plastic baggie containing two little green and yellow spotted pills. I grabbed it, and as fast as I could move my skinny unathletic body, I jumped through the trapdoor.

All I could think about was getting out of there with the pills before those guys came back. I knew I would be DEAD if they caught me, and there’s no doubt at all that even the young kid could kick my ass with one hand tied behind his back! It’s a wonder that I didn’t break my leg, as I completely ignored the ladder. But adrenaline being what it is, I landed on my feet and ran faster than I ever remember running, through the trees back in the direction from where I came. After a couple of minutes (I hadn’t realized I had walked so far), I slowed down to catch my breath and take stock. I kneeled down to listen: Nothing. Calming down for a moment, I considered: If those guys caught me, not only would they beat the living crap out of me, they would also take back the pills. "Act fast", I said to myself, and I reached into my pocket and removed the baggie. I took one of the pills out, popped it into my mouth and swallowed, and returned the baggie and the one remaining pill to my pocket. I still heard nothing, and began to walk, quickly but quietly, towards the freeway. Just as I saw the lights of the motel in front of me, I heard a furious yell (a roar, it sounded like) from deep in the woods behind me. I started running even faster than before (if that’s possible), up to the motel, and safety.

I got to the motel, turned the corner by the soda machine, and then stopped to catch my breath. Panting with excitement and not a small amount of fear, I peeked around the corner and scanned the line of trees where the woods began. Nothing. No movement, no sound, no angry muscle boys running after me. Nothing. After I caught my breath (which didn’t take as long as I might have expected it to, considering how fast I was running), I went to our room on the second floor, opened the door, and went in.

"Jake, honey - you’re all wet and covered with sweat. And your shirt is all muddy! What have you been doing?"

"Walking in the woods, Mom. Running actually. I needed to get my blood moving after all the driving and last night’s terrible beds. I guess I got mud on me from the creek I ran through."

"That’s nice, honey. Take a shower and clean up, but hurry! We’re all hungry."

"Don’t bother, Jake-o. Shower after dinner. We’re just going to the coffee shop in the lobby, no need to clean up for these hicks," said Dad. But first, I excused myself to the bathroom to pee. Nothing like a good scare to activate the bladder!

Once in the bathroom, I peed and then reached into my pocket to examine the treasure more closely - or, at least I hoped it was treasure. One remaining yellow and green spotted pill. I knew it couldn’t be steroids. I knew enough about that from DARE classes to know that even the most powerful steroids couldn’t build muscles in just one week. Not on anybody, let alone a 10 or 11 year old boy like Mikey clearly was. So what could it be? Magic? Some new drug? Where had those boys gotten the pills? Could it really be true? Could two little pills really turn a normal boy into the kind of muscleboy that those guys were, throbbing with power and strength and sexual energy? I remembered what Tim and Billy said: One pill the first night, one the second, and a lot of weightlifting. Weightlifting? I didn’t even own a set of weights! Was I wasting my time? No. I remembered that Mikey said he only took the second of his pills six days before and hadn’t lifted weights at all, and he was really buff. So maybe the pills would work on their own without exercise. I placed the baggie and one remaining pill back into my pocket. I looked at my muddy baggy and oversized t-shirt in the mirror, with it’s three-quarter sleeves (I liked to wear those kind of shirts because they hid my pencil-thin arms) and suddenly wanted to pull it off and flex a bit, to see if there was any change yet (how funny - it had only been 15 minutes or so since I took that first pill), but just then Mom yelled "Jake! We’re waiting!"

"Come on, Jake-o. Two shakes only. Any more and it qualifies as entertainment." Haha, dad. Always the joker.

I really wasn’t hungry, I was too excited. But I figured that if I wanted to gain muscle, I would need some food in my stomach. Preferably meat. Big hunks of rare red meat. As I thought about that, placing the image of a rare steak in my mind, my stomach started to growl and I realized that I was hungry after all. Really hungry. Ravenous. That was odd . . . just a second earlier I wasn’t hungry at all!

"Dad, I’m starved. Can I order the steak?" My Dad is a notorious cheapskate, and didn’t like us to order expensive items at restaurants. But tonight, he smiled and nodded.

"Sure, Jake-o. Order whatever you want. It’s a new day for the Powers family.

As we sat down at a table in the nearly empty coffee shop, I immediately reached across the table for the dinner rolls. I really was hungry!

"Slow down, honey," mom said. But I was too hungry to notice.

An hour later, filled to the brim with a 16 ounce Sirloin Steak with grilled onions, baked potato with sour cream and chives, green beans, salad with extra blue-cheese dressing, about six dinner rolls loaded with butter, half of my mom’s french fries, the last half of Miriam’s chicken sandwich that she couldn’t finish, and a huge piece of blueberry pie a la mode (all of mine as well as half of my mothers and half of my sisters), we all staggered back up to the room.

"I hope you don’t get sick from all that food, honey," said mom. "I don’t remember you ever eating so much in one sitting before."

"I was really hungry," I replied, trying to remain casual. But in fact, it also occurred to me that I ate more than usual. A LOT more than usual. I supposed at the time that it was the excitement of what happened in the woods, and the frightened run at top speed and all the rest. It couldn’t be the pills after all, not so soon. Could it?

"Shower, young man," said mom, pointing to the bathroom.

As I started the water and stripped off my clothes covered with dried mud, I took a second to look at myself in the mirror. My stomach was a bit distended from the enormous meal I just consumed, but other than that, I looked the same as always. Then again, maybe not. My ribs seemed to be a little less visible on my torso than usual. I flexed my biceps, and while they were still tiny, I swear they looked a bit bigger. Not much, and maybe it was just my imagination. But no, I think they were bigger. Just a tiny bit. I stepped in the shower and let the hot water rain over my tired body as I just stood there. It felt so good I didn’t move for a few minutes. I was really achy . . . from all the sitting in the car, and the lousy bed the night before, and the furious and unexpected exercise I had gotten that night. Eventually I grabbed the soap and began to wash myself. Moving the bar of soap over my chest and stomach, up and down my arms and shoulders, all around to clean off the mud and dried sweat. But something was different. I was sure of it.

As I rubbed the soap over myself, I felt just a bit harder than I ever did before. Nothing much different, but definitely different. The kind of tiny change that only somebody intimately familiar with his own body could notice. Just a bit more firmness where previously there was only mush. With rising excitement, I began to flex a bit more. First my arms. What was that? Yes. I was sure of it. I could feel my biceps. And they were harder than before. I had flexed and felt my puny and weak and soft biceps enough times in the past to know what they felt like, and there was no doubt that they were harder now. Not much, but a little bit. A little noticeable bit.. I began to feel all over my body as the hot water cascaded over me, and sure enough, it was different all over. Nothing major, not too much, but something was definitely different. A tiny bit firmer, a smidge rounder, a touch harder. Not much, just a bit. Maybe.

I suppose I should have gotten really excited by that realization, but instead I was overcome with exhaustion. I could barely stand, and my body was screaming for sleep. I stepped out of the shower, dried off, put on my pajamas, exited the bathroom and rejoined the rest of my family.

"I want to be a Jedi, like my father before me" I heard coming from the TV. It was Star Wars (the original), my favorite movie! The family was watching, the lights turned low. But I collapsed into my bed, pulled the covers on top of me and rolled over.

"It’s Star Wars, Jacob," said Miriam. She’s the only one who calls me by my full name. "Come watch with us!"

"I’m too tired, guys. I’m just going to sleep."

"Good night, honey," said Mom. "Sleep tight."

Tight. My muscles felt really tight. And exhausted. I couldn’t keep my eyes open one more second.

"You’ll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious." The TV droned on, but I descended into a deep, deep sleep. The last thing I remember thinking of was Mikey’s voice: "Hey! I want to fuck you too!" So did I, but not tonight.

[arpeejay]

Great start, although I'm reminded of that line of Sheryl Crow's, "Took the I-95 down to Pensacola," which always made me laugh since Pensacola is about 350 miles west of I-95.

From the UP, you'd either take I-75 from St. Ignace all the way down (through Ohio, Kentucky, Tennesee, and Georgia, not WV or SC) to Orlando, where you'd pick up Florida's Turnpike. Or, if the Western UP, down through Wisconsin to Chicago and over to Gary, where you'd pick up I-65 to go down to Nashville, then I-24 to Chattanooga, and then down I-75.

Regardless: I'm looking forward to more!

xoxo

Richard

[muscle16a]

thanks for the comment, RPJ. I should have spent more time on that aspect of the story, instead of just winging it. Fortunately, it's not vital to the plot.

[Jaypat]

I love the voice of your character, and I can't wait to see what he wakes up to.

[GoldfishBW]

Great story so far. It's written very realistically considering the subject matter ("magic muscle pills"). And I love stories where the muscle growth is slow but inevitable. Looking forward to the next chapter!

-Brad

[Greggrth]

"Two shakes only. Any more and it qualifies as entertainment"!!!! loved that. loved the story too, can't wait for more

[arpeejay]

As I said, it's a great start and you're correct, my comments were regarding an insignificant plot point! I'm looking forward to the next installment! :-)

xoxo

Richard

[chocomus]

very good! i liked it a lot! I wonder how will he develop (and if he'll find "a hot guy to kiss who wanted to kiss him back")

[sexiscriptor]

totally should have taken both at once. i mean, it could be argued that if he were so worried the boys would come take the pills back, he might, in his fright, go ahead and take both hastily. I mean, sure he's taken one, but if they had caught up with him they could still have taken the other..... ;D
oh well, that'll just be how the story goes in my head ;p

great start though, can't wait to read more!
~Ille

[hipy]

This is a great story!

cant wait for the second part

Very very good story

keep it up!

[MAZIVKAROLY]

OH yeah! Great beginning. Thanks for setting a very nice stage and foundation for a lot more muscle to come and "come" by.

[amauiguy]

Fun story so far! Looking forward to seeing where it goes.

[Steven]

I don't get here that often, and hardly ever go beyond page-1 to look for stories. But yesterday, skimming through the line-up, I read a few lines of this continued story and immediately went and read Part 1. I came back tonight to read Part 2, and I see someone commented and brought this back to page-1...sooo, guess I'll comment also.

It's Damned Good!!!
muscle16a - You write very well indeed.
I'm going to Part 2!