What happens when Colt and Rocky discover their grandfather thinks Colt to be the best?
|The discovery which would radically change two lives occurred right after the three Douglas brothers had finished the day’s exhaustive training regimen which their grandfather had put in place. Tum-tum had gone up to use the shower, leaving his older brothers Rocky (Samuel) and Colt (Jeffrey) to wait panting downstairs. Tired down to the bone, but also bored and impatient, Colt wandered over to the desk and began poking around at the bric a brac cluttering its surface.
“Colt, what are you doing?” Rocky asked.
“Just looking around,” the fourteen year-old teenager answered dismissively.
“That’s Grandpa’s stuff,” Rocky chided, climbing to his feet and walking painfully over to his sibling’s side. “Leave it alone.”
Ignoring his older brother, Colt seized what looked like a small diary, and flipped it open to its last page, dated just yesterday. As he read what was written there, his eyes widened.
“Hey, listen to this! ‘All three are growing well. It is clear to me now, though, that of this trio, it is the middle one who possesses the greatest future potential. I must guide his growth and development to the best of my ability.”
“Grandpa didn’t write that!” Rocky protested, grabbing the diary away. He looked down at the writing on the page . . . and saw it was exactly as his brother had said.
The sudden realization was like taking a punch in the gut during a full-contact sparring session. Grandpa . . . Grandpa thought Colt had the most potential, more than little Tum-tum, more than him? He wanted to protest, to deny the assessment, but rationally, how could he?
Grandpa had been a ninja master for decades, and had known his grandsons all of their lives. Rocky could hardly dispute his grandfather’s judgement.
Slowly he raised his head, locking eyes with Colt. The two stared at one another until at last Tum-Tum’s voice called down from upstairs, “Okay, I’m done!”
Eager to retreat and come to terms with the feelings swirling in his head, Rocky started forward, only to stop when Colt’s left arm flashed across his chest.
“I’ll go first,” Colt declared, an edge of challenge in his deepening voice.
Only a minute ago Rocky would have argued with this arrogant assertion. Now . . . he simply nodded in acquiescence and watched Colt triumphantly mount the stairs.
At fourteen and fifteen years old, awash in oceans of hormones and the natural insecurity of adolescence, both boys suffered from a lack of belief in themselves. Discovering their grandfather’s opinion had the opposite effect on them, diminishing one while elevating the other.
Rocky tried to put the entire incident out of his mind, but the knowledge his grandfather believed he had so much less potential than his younger brother never really left his mind. His firstborn’s resolve to do his best in school, in athletics, and in martial arts training faltered, as did his exercise of his natural oldest brother authority. Rather than taking the lead among the three of them as a matter of course, Rocky began asking his taller, younger sibling’s opinion on what to do, unconsciously seeking Colt’s approval of his decisions.
Colt, for his part, became more aggressively assertive than ever before and frequently won the arguments he came to regularly engage Rocky in, if only because he was now considerably more self-confident and self-assured than his older brother. His grandfather’s glowing judgment of his potential had lit a figurative fire within the teen, making him determined to live up to those high expectations. The brimming, restless energy he’d always possessed had been laser-focused and channeled solely towards improving himself. The wildness which had once manifested in his techniques was worn away by relentless practice, until his all of his moves were as fluidly swift and flawless as possible. Within a month Mori promoted Colt to second degree black belt, the same rank as his older brother. They were equals now, but both boys knew they wouldn’t stay equal for long!
This reality was borne out in their sparring sessions. In the past Rocky had usually won such matches. Now, however, Colt’s greater self-discipline and confidence gave him an undeniable edge, one reinforced by Rocky’s new self-doubt. Before long Colt was thoroughly whipping his older brother’s ass every time the two faced one another.
When he wasn’t refining his martial arts skills, the high school freshman was concentrating on his schoolwork. It had always been hard for him, but buoyed by his grandfather’s opinion, he worked until his eyes burned with exhaustion.
And his hard work showed definite results! The C’s disappeared from his next report card, replaced by B’s and even A’s! In contrast, Rocky’s grades slipped further than they ever had before, disappointing their parents even while they praised Jeffrey for his good grades and ascension to the Honor Roll!
For the depressed fifteen year-old, this served as additional proof that grandpa had been right, and his younger brother was simply BETTER than he was! Or rather could be, and was quickly becoming so! For solace, he tried drinking at a party, and ended up getting caught by the police, shaking the foundation of his parents’ trust in him and leading to a month-long grounding. They couldn’t understand why their oldest son was going off the rails, while their formerly troublesome middle son was quickly becoming their cherished golden boy!
Tum-Tum, too, had no clue as to what was happening with his brothers. He realized Colt was behaving more and more like the authoritative, in-charge eldest brother, and Rocky was slipping into a new role as Colt’s subservient sibling. Among the trio of close-knit Douglas siblings, Colt became the clear and unquestioned leader, with Rocky and Tum-Tum both his obedient followers.
For a while Rocky took out his feelings by working out in the basement weight room. Then one afternoon he opened the basement door to hear the clank of iron. Dread squeezed his heart and he swallowed hard as he proceeded into the basement and found Colt using his bench press! A quick glance showed Colt straining to lift a hundred and fifty pounds, his own limit for the bench press.
Racking the bar, Colt sat up, breathing hard, and glanced over at his brother.
“Hey, Rock,” he puffed. “I’m nearly finished.”
Unspoken was the ‘you can use it when I’m done’. The bench, bar and its iron plates were a thirteenth birthday gift for Rocky, and he would’ve been within his rights to object to it being used without his permission. Yet as Colt sat there confidently, his muscles visibly pumped, Rocky somehow couldn’t find the words.
Colt did a final three agonizing reps before rising up, using his extra two inches of height to look down on his older sibling, both literally and figuratively. Rather than meeting the bigger boy’s gaze, Rocky dropped his own eyes submissively to the paved basement floor. Rocky then did half the reps he usually did, discouraged by the fact that Colt had started pumping iron as well. In his heart he feared it was only a matter of time before his taller, younger brother overtook him in terms of sheer physical strength. And he was right.
Colt continued to lift with studied, perfect form and unshakeable determination. He was like a machine! Over the following weeks Rocky looked on in a kind of frozen dread as his already quite fit, lean brother filled out with large, shredded, rippling MUSCLES! Naturally Colt’s strength skyrocketed correspondingly and before the end of March he was easily banging out a full two hundred pounds for reps, while Rocky remained stuck at one-fifty.
One afternoon, when all three had returned home from school, Colt casually said, “Hey, Rocky, let’s have an arm-wrestling match. Tum-Tum can referee.”
He brandished his own noticeably larger, more muscular arm on the kitchen table with a confident smirk.
Rocky wanted to refuse, wanted to run up to the safety of his room, but he couldn’t. He sank into the opposite chair and clasped hands with his younger brother, who gave his hand a painful squeeze, just as a reminder of who was boss now.
“Go!” Tum-Tum shouted excitedly.
Rocky threw himself into it, with no effect. Try as he did, he simply could not bulge the buff, ripped fourteen year-old’s iron-muscled right arm even a millimeter! Then Colt started to casually push his arm down, the handsome adolescent stud’s physical power irresistible! He didn’t even seem to be putting any effort into it as he painfully slammed and pinned Rocky’s hand to the table.
“Winner and champion, Colt Douglas!” Tum-Tum announced. The victor’s smirk widened, and an embarrassed Rocky tried in vain to pull his hand free. Keeping his elder sibling’s hand pinned an extra five seconds in a blatant show of dominance, Colt then released him and proudly flexed his bulging, impressively sizeable right bicep.
“Looks like Rocky is no match for this rock!” he gloated happily.
The depressed, disconsolate fifteen year-old stared hopelessly at the junior teen’s very defined, imposing arm muscle and tears filled his eyes. He had always been strong; that had been his greatest physical gift, the reason why Grandpa had given him the ninja name of “Rocky”. Yet in the matter of a couple of months his taller, younger brother had grown even stronger and better-built than he was! It was as if the core of his very identity had been stolen by his now-undeniably physically superior sibling!
Colt, on the other hand, was exulting at how physically powerful he had become, his sheer raw strength easily surpassing his oldest brother’s! Grandpa had been so right about his potential! He was going to be the greatest ninja the world had ever seen!
“Wow, you’ve gotten really strong, Colt!” Tum-Tum piped up admiringly, and his hero-worshipping tone was enough to drive Rocky from the table. He ran upstairs to his room, slamming the door shut and throwing himself onto his bed, sobbing in self-pity. He remained the oldest, but Colt was now the BIG brother in every sense of the word: big in body, big in muscles, big in martial arts expertise, and big in brains! Colt’s complete superiority over him in all things could no longer be denied! Grandpa had seen the truth; his younger brother was far better than him in every way, and would inevitably be much more successful than he could ever dream of being! That was the moment Rocky truly gave up, and fully accepted that Colt would always be his superior.
When school started up again after Christmas, Colt made a big splash on the social scene. His charismatic self-confidence drew people to him, and he soon distinguished himself as by far the coolest and most athletic of the freshmen. Within two weeks he was treated as a respected equal by the Juniors, overshadowing Rocky, who was a mere sophomore.
The first weekend in January Mom and Dad decided go out on a date Saturday night. Right before they left, Dad said, “Remember, Jeffrey, you’re in charge.”
Rocky’s jaw dropped as he looked over at his smug younger brother. Their parents had just formalized Colt’s authority over him and Tum-Tum, explicitly acknowledging and even approving of the unchecked dominance of their extraordinarily mighty middle child!
Later that evening Rocky heard moans of passion come from his BIG brother’s room. When at last they ceased he heard the door open and, unable to control his curiosity, poked his head out into the hall.
Emerging from Colt’s room was Emily, his ex-girlfriend! Colt followed her out, clad only in a set of briefs, and utterly dwarfing her with his most manly, imposing size. Turning back to him, she threw her arms around him and they exchanged a deep, sexy kiss.
As they parted, the breathlessly told him, “Oh, Colt, you’re such a hunk!”
A pitiful whine escaped the fifteen year-old’s throat, and the amorous pair at last noticed him.
“Hey, bro,” Colt called out in his deep, manly voice. “Emily and I are together now. I hope you don’t mind.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a threateningly assertive order from the dominant, in-control big brother to his poor, helpless little brother.
Emily didn’t say even that much, turning her attention back to her new boyfriend. Even right in front of her ex, Emily couldn’t seem to keep her eyes or her hands off of Colt’s strappingly larger, considerably more muscular He-Boy bod! As he stared, heartbroken, the blond girl lovingly caressed her very sexy, broad-shouldered new boyfriend’s iron-muscled arms. The two kissed deeply one last time before Emily reluctantly parted from her very hunky adolescent lover, casting a final longing glance at him before she went down the stairs and left the house.
Not even bothering to further acknowledge the devastated “little” brother whose ex-girlfriend he had just slept with, Colt went back into his room and shut the door.
That night Rocky dreamed of taking Emily on a date to the beach. They’d only just gotten there when he spotted a lean, but tremendously muscular younger teen, clad in only a tight red swimsuit and a white, backward-facing baseball cap which he wore like a crown. Emily, too, noticed this sun-kissed, extremely built teenage pro bodybuilder. She sashayed her way over to him, head cocked as she blinked flirtatiously.
“Hi! You come here often?” she asked.
“When I’m not pumping iron,” he answered in an impressively deep, cockily self-confident voice. He pointedly flexed his right arm, his bicep swelling up into a rock-hard softball! With an impressed gasp Emily reached up to delightedly feel and squeeze the huge, bulging muscle.
“Wow, it’s like a rock!” she exclaimed, ignoring the irony of her ignored boyfriend’s name. This was too much and Rocky stomped up to her side, glaring at this strikingly handsome, bronzed He-Boy.
“Hey, I’m Rocky and this is Emily, my girlfriend,” he said, specifically emphasizing the last word.
“More like a pebble,” the taller, much buffer boy smirked, and Emily laughed again.
Furious, Rocky took a swing, only to be badly beaten by the younger, exponentially superior alpha male Adonis, left to bleed in the sand. Rocky woke up with a gasp. His initial sense of relief soon waned. How different was his life from the nightmare he’d just experienced?
Sunday afternoon Colt told his brothers they would spar in the basement every other day. There was, of course, no contesting their authoritative new BIG brother’s order, so Rocky and Tum-Tum simply obeyed their engorged, enlarged, and empowered sibling!
As they were about to begin, Rocky took the opportunity to really scrutinize his opponent’s phenomenal build beneath the tight black gi. At a mere fourteen years old, Colt already possessed the awe-inspiring muscular development of a gold medal-winning Olympic gymnast! All that exquisitely chiseled, rippling muscles looked utterly fantastic on the exceptionally tall teen! Colt’s physique was a rock-hard mass of breathtaking brawn, of pure, power-packed MUSCLE!
Colt had gotten so strong it was almost unbelievable! His customary speed and swiftness were complemented by his newly, crushingly powerful blows. Colt kicked with the force of a thoroughbred mustang now, leading Rocky to genuinely fear his muscle-bound male younger sibling’s karate kicks could literally break him in half!
Colt’s manifold physical advantages and greater martial arts skill meant he could easily and always beat Rocky, to the point where the imposingly large, powerful young predator began playing with his prey. At the end of one match, he wrapped his legs around his older brother’s torso and began to squeeze. Rocky groaned in helpless agony as he was mercilessly scissored, Colt’s long, extremely muscular legs feeling more than strong enough to crack a marble pillar in half!
“Mercy, mercy!” he gasped out, and finally that car-compactor strong grip relaxed. Tucking and flexing his brick-like, eight pack abs, Colt flipped gracefully back to his feet. Strolling over to Rocky’s clothes, the long-limbed, fourteen year-old karateka pulled out Rocky’s wallet and took the cash for himself before leaving without another word.
To Colt taking the money was a symbol of his supremacy, yet another reminder to Rocky and Tum-Tum of who their boss was. He didn’t feel any guilt; why should he, when he was only doing what came naturally? After all, did the lion feel sorry for the gazelle? And Colt was certainly a deadly, powerful young lion!
Being the biggest and most built of the three Douglas siblings, Colt got all new clothes, including a fancy pair of sneakers which he proudly showed off to his “little” brothers. For an instant, Rocky longed to drop to his knees and kiss his younger brother’s cool, expensive new boss kicks, explicitly acknowledging Colt as the awesome, in-charge alpha male which the fourteen year-old blackbelt muscle stud so very clearly was!
In spite of these gifts from their parents, Colt kept confiscating his older brother’s money whenever he won a sparring match. In a twisted way, Rocky actually wanted his overgrown, muscleboy younger brother to walk away with his money. It was almost as if he were paying his brutally handsome, muscle-bound teen Goliath sibling to thoroughly kick his ass, and if so, mighty Colt was certainly earning his money! The young ninjitsu stud and physical prodigy could easily simultaneously take on both Rocky and Tum-Tum by himself now, consistently curb-stomping both of his “little” brothers at once in combat.
It was thus more of a formality than anything else when Grandpa promoted Colt to the exalted rank of third degree black belt in early April. As he finished his speech, Grandpa announced, “I will now bestow on you your adult ninja name. From now on you will be known as
“Stallion”, for you have truly grown strong and healthy as a horse!”
Rocky said nothing in protest because he agreed wholeheartedly! He quickly joined with Tum-Tum in loudly clapping for and praising their mind-blowingly magnificent biggest brother!
They supported him equally when, on his fifteenth birthday, he enrolled in the Under Eighteen World Martial Arts Championship. Tum-Tum even excitedly exclaimed, “You’re going to kick the whole world’s ass, Stallion!”
The savagely handsome Stallion had laughed at this, his very large, chiseled muscles bunched up powerfully and beautifully beneath his sexily skin-tight white T-shirt even as his long, awesomely muscular legs strained the seams of his blue jeans.
He did win, of course, taking home the golden belt of the Under Eighteen World Martial Arts Champion! Rocky could only marvel at what an invincible, indomitable colossus fifteen year-old Stallion was!
Rocky was now exquisitely attuned to his big brother/master’s moods and thoughts. A single arched eyebrow from Stallion was enough to make Rocky sweat. Seeing the towering, uber-built younger brother frowning, his bronzed, extremely muscular arms crossed over his imposingly broad, deep chest, spiked the hapless sixteen year-old’s adrenaline through the roof, fueling Rocky’s “fight or flight” impulse. Of course, either reaction was useless; trying to fight Stallion would basically be issuing an engraved invitation for his ever so tall, mighty younger brother to brutally kick his ass, while running from the swift as the wind, long-legged fifteen year-old muscleboy would merely arouse Stallion’s instinctive predatory instincts.
He already got beat up and kicked around enough by his awe-inspiring teenage owner without inviting more of it. At the beginning of their first match after Stallion’s victory in the Martial Arts World Tournament, his cruelly handsome visage had worn the self-confident smirk of an absolute apex alpha male, one about to thoroughly enjoy violently asserting his total physical and mental dominance over a much lesser beta male. As he had stalked gracefully onto the mat, flush with proud self-confidence, the tall, very muscular Stallion had appeared every inch a total winner, literally the reigning teenage martial arts world champion, while Rocky fidgeted and shifted nervously, feeling like a little kid white belt about to do a full-contact spar with his violently abusive, black belt ADULT sensei! As always, the lightning fast, strong as iron fifteen year-old Atlas totally demolished his older brother!
“Kiss my feet!” Stallion commanded at the conclusion of the match and, without pausing for even a fraction of a second, Rocky had obeyed, kissing his towering, muscle-bound kid conqueror’s tanned, bare feet. What else could he do? Stallion was a mighty adolescent ninja GOD, and he was barely worthy to be this superlative teenage wonderboy’s slave!
While that curb stomp sparring match went on, their grandfather had been out on the back porch, tending to his three bonsai trees and updating his journal on their growth and development. Just as he’d surmised over a year ago, the tree in the middle pot had, under his careful pruning, becoming the largest and most aesthetically pleasing of the trio. He’d known it had the most potential of the three!