Chapter #6John does not recognize the boy god by: Solan   John trudged wearily up the stairs, pleasurably anticipating a long, hot shower. Coach had pushed them really hard today, but with the first game of the season coming up next week they needed to be at their best. Especially him, given that he was the starting quarterback.
He'd worked harder for that position than he had for anything in his life, lifting weights two hours a day, spending half his money on protein powder and muscles mags, and studying plays until he thought his brain would explode, but all of his effort had been rewarded. He had made the varsity football team, at freaking sixteen!
Not all of his teammates had been happy about having a junior as their QB, but the Coach didn't let them pull any crap at practice and his impressive size and build was enough to keep them from risking anything physical outside of the game.
At the top of the stairs John was just about to turn left into the bathroom when without warning his little brother's bedroom door exploded off its hinges, propelled by a figure backing out into the hall. The person whirled to face him and John's mouth went dry, his heart skipping a beat.
Stranding before him was a vision of blinding masculine beauty and utterly unimaginable physical perfection. The boy god was proudly naked, the immeasurable splendor and glory of his gorgeously divine form unconcealed by the heresy of clothes. His classic features were flawlessly handsome, his eyes a deeper and more mesmerizing blue than John had ever seen before. His hair was flaxen gold, flowing down in waves between his beyond barn-door broad shoulders.
His chiseled, exquisitely shaped pecs were the size of watermelons, overshadowing eight-pack bricks which looked hard and solid as the surface of an anvil. Even completely relaxed and unflexed the preteen physical paragon's mammoth biceps were more than twice as big as John's, pulsing with pure power. His legs were twin tree-trunks of solid muscle and his manhood put John's to shame.
EVERYTHING about the blond uber-boy Atlas put the teenage football player to shame! He'd occassionally daydreamed about getting as big and built as some of the champion bodybuilders he'd seen in his magazines, but even in his wildest fantasies he could not have pictured this level of laser-sharp definition and wonderfully inhuman muscularity. He was staring slack-jawed at the almighty incarnation of strength and power!
A single glance at those rippling, titanic arm muscles was enough to assure John that this ultimate alpha male was easily several thousand times stronger than he was. Doubtless this entity could effortlessly crush John down to the size of an atom with a single finger!
The only area of visible comparison in which John came out on top was height: the adolescent was six two, and the kid deity was a mere five feet tall, but with his bronzed, mammoth muscle mass he somehow seemed to tower far, far above John.
That advantage was nullified anyway when John instinctively fell to his knees before his supreme muscle-god. He was more than ready to spend the rest of his life worshiping and obeying his unconquerable new lord and master. He humbly bowed his head and reverently whispered the question he wanted answered with every fiber of his being, "How can I serve you?"
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