South Africa
Part 44

I've often wondered about Mark's bod, and how fit he must be. So I found a painting of a dude done by a Japanese artist, and emailed it to the Captain asking him if the bod looked like Mark's. "That's definitely Mark's chest and abs," he said. Click on the thumbnail to see the full pic. MrB

The only prob with going away on the tour was getting back and having a truckload of school work to catch up on… not to mention other things. I phoned Kyle from Carol's house.

"Sorry I couldn't make it around, bro. I'm calling from Carol's 'cause I'm making up for lost time… my nads are so damn full!"

"I could've sorted that out for you on the trip."

"Fuck off, Kyle."

"Glad to be back?"

"Wish I was still away… had a total rave… no pressure."

"Did well, too."

"Thanks… AGAIN!" Kyle must've congratulated me a million times about the races I'd won.

"No, seriously… you knocked everybody's socks off when you beat that Brandon prick."

"Well, there's no getting away from the fact that he's a speed merchant in the water. He just had an off day."

"That's like saying that he kicked out a stroke just to let you win. You did it, bro. You kicked his ass."

"Yeah… anyway, I've got some things to do. Check you in the morning."

"So tell me, is it gonna be a blowjob, or are you gonna dip into the seafood?"

"Gross! You are sooooo fucking gross! Cheers, Kyle."

Later that night, it became patently obvious that I was back home, and back in the land of mom's boyfriend. Next morning at swim prac, I was brooding and quiet. Wingnut tried to chirp me about something, but soon backed off when he saw that I wasn't in the mood for kidding around.

We were practicing for the school gala, an interhouse thing where we could choose to swim in whichever events took our fancy. Wingnut and I were on the same team. Kyle was on the same team as Kev and Jumbo, while Ross was on another. The events were planned for the following week.

To make sense of the convo between Kyle and Mark that appears later in this chapter, and which happened the next day, I felt that it was important to detour from the Mark story for a while, and include the convo that Kyle had with Steve the previous afternoon, as well as the later convo between Kyle and his dad. This section of the chapter is told by Kyle. Mr B.

Steve came around about an hour after Wingnut had left, while I was doing my homework.

"You still do your homework in your boxers?"

"Always," I laughed.

"Heard you bummed out on the tour."

"It was weird. I was swimming so damn well but just not getting anywhere."

"Well, all the guys have got one over you, Kyle… and you know it."

"Yeah, they've all got cute asses, and I like to watch them from behind."

"You know what I mean."


"Yep, all the guys are fucking taking it now. Check with B and you'll find all the guys in Oz are doing the same. Ian Thorpe must be doing the stuff as well."

"I hate supps."

"It's not 'roids, bro. It's the same stuff your body makes anyway, and it's totally natural."

"Is that why you've gotten so damn tight?"

"Yeppos," Steve grinned. "Check it out." Then he paraded his god-body. Not that he needed to. I'd always thought that he had a god-body. And so did every fucking chick in town. And probably the guys as well, if they'd been honest enough to admit it.

Steve had already gone by the time my folks arrived home from work. I waited until they'd settled down, and had time to relax, before I spoke to my dad about Creatine.

"There's a lot of kids using that stuff now," he said. "The guys at work tell me about it. Damn expensive, though, Kyle."

"It cheeses me off, 'cause all the guys are using it, and beating me."

"You're gonna have to find some work to pay for it if you wanna use it. I know Mark uses it."

"How do you know that?"

"Just look at him. He's got a helluva muscular development for his age. And watching him box… he's got loads and loads of energy. At first, I thought he might be on steroids or something similar."

"He wouldn't take 'roids, dad."

"I hope not. Is his mom quite well off?"

"I don't think so."

"Maybe he just buys Creatine when he's got the money. Most of the kids do that. They only use it when they need it, or when they're in training."

"So what do you think?"

"I've never been one for taking stuff like that, Kyle, but maybe you should try it and see if it helps you. But! You're gonna have to pay for it youself, boy. We just don't have that kinda money to throw around."

"I know, dad."

Then my mom piped up. "If you ate your spinach when you were little, then you could've had a body like Mark's now."

"Hear that, dad?"

"I'm listening… I'm listening… and I ate all my spinach."

"He's a lady killer," mom smiled.


"Mmmm," was all that mom was prepared to add. Meantime, my dad just sat there shaking his head, and smiling. I sussed out that my mom was horny, which made my dad happy.

Now, back to the story as Mark tells it.

Next morning, I was back to normal… well, normal for me. I hadn't seen Kyle earlier 'cause I'd been on prefect duty. At break, though, he made a beeline for me, and, even before he opened his mouth, I could tell that he had something on his mind that was bugging him big time. He asked me about Creatine, so I told him that I went on courses of the stuff during training for boxing, and that I also took the stuff for the swim tour. I told him that the whole team was on Creatin, and that even Wingnut had asked the coach about it.

"He couldn't afford it."

"The coach gets the stuff cheaper… and with the younger guys, he sometimes helps them out so long as they've got a letter from their folks to say they're allowed to go on a course. I get it from Steve, who's got a good contact. Shit! Just about all my money goes into it!"

"Ah, fuck."

"What's the prob?"

"I dunno… I'm just not sure I wanna get into it."

"You don't need to. It depends on whether you wanna win or not."

"You saying I can't win without it?"

"Not quite. But it does give guys that extra energy boost when they need it. It's not like a drug. I don't think there's a swimmer in the world who doesn't take it… 'cept for Kyle."

"And Wingnut?"

"Oh, he's taken some. How do you think his swimming improved so quickly?"

"I thought…"

"You thought it was 'cause of the extra training we handed him? OK, his stroke was crapped out, but the Creatine helped his speed and endurance."

"He didn't say a fucking word about it."

"'Cause he's paranoid about what you might say about it. You'd probably go on and fucking on about drugs and shit." There was a long pause while Kyle studied the ground, and seemed to be lost for words. "Kyle, don't look so fucking down! The little dude would've told you if he thought that you'd see his side of the story. And it's not like he's taking drugs, for fuck sake!"

"A friend said that if you won 'cause you were taking supps, then it was the supps winning."

"Another swimmer?"

"No… he doesn't do any sport."

"Oh, c'mon Kyle. Fuck, I hate it when we get into these fucking heavies. But I feel like hitting your head against the wall. How the fuck would he know what it's like to compete against every mother fucker who's using supps, and you're coming last every fucking time?"

"Not last."

"You know what I mean. So who's the bright spark friend?"

"You don't know him. He's a dude I write to in Oz on email."

"Well, tell him to look around, and to check out his school buddies, 'cause everyone in Oz is taking it. Where do you think it all started? In this backwater?

"Now you're getting pissed."

"I'm not getting pissed. I just get so mad at you sometimes 'cause of the way you think. You're like so damn cautious about everything. And then you ride huge fucking surf, and don't give a shit if you break your neck!"

"I can't afford the shit, anyway."

"So don't stress about it, then."

"I stress 'cause I've still got two years of swimming, and the way things are going I'm never gonna make the winter team 'cause of all of you guys getting pumped."

"Aaaggghhh! Fuck! Stop doing this! Now, listen up, and I don't want you to think that I'm dissing you or your Aussie buddy, who knows fuck all about sports competition, anyway. All sports have changed, Kyle. It's become hectic since we've been allowed to compete internationally again [after the apartheid regime]. Look around at some little guys. Fuck! Look at Wingnut! His increased performance. His increased strength, and his muscle mass. That's how it's going, Kyle. The guys will take stuff -- so long as it's not steroids, or addictive like drugs -- preferably natural like Creatine -- to win. Guys who don't take supps are going nowhere. I know you're scared, but there's nothing wrong with the stuff."

"Yeah… well, I can't afford it, and I can't ask my folks for that kinda money." Then he must've remembered something. He looked at me, and grinned. "Oh, my mom says you've got a hot bod."

"Is your dad the only one in your family who's not looking at my bod?"

"My dad? Oh, yeah, he thinks you've got a good bod for your age."

"It's obviously a Kyle family thing," I grinned, wondering to myself why I was getting so much attention from adults, male as well as female.

"My folks aren't shy about telling it like it is. And if my mom thinks you're hot, then you must be."

"Well, I don't see what you guys see. But, then, I know you're crazy. Hey! Change of sub. Steve phoned me last night, and told me pretty much what you told me at the start of the tour… that you guys have sorted things out totally. He sounded pretty damn amped."

"Yeah… I think we've both chilled about it."

"Carol says that Steph's pretty happy that you guys are back on track."

"It's going OK."

"Hey! Lighten up, Kyle. You're looking lower than shark shit."

"I'll be OK."

"Don't stress about the supps. OK? You'll always make the swim team. We'll always need a mascot."

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 Mark Part 45