Date: Thu, 13 Dec 2007 03:14:59 -0800 (PST) From: j c Subject: Small Differences This is a complete work of fiction. Any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. This story is copywrited and sole property of the author. It may not be reproduced in any media format without the express written consent of the author. Hello again gentle reader, I have been looking through my files and found several stories that I have been working on. Now as some of you might know this last fall semester was a killer for me. I didn't even have time to answer my e-mail let alone work on my fiction. So I was thinking that maybe if I posted what I had it might serve to inspire me to work on it more. Who knows I might just finish these stories someday soon. Now about this new story, I honestly didn't know this one was lurking around inside my head. I have been developing another story with a skater punk as the main character. I even went so far as to outline the chapters; yea I know I'm a writing fool, and was all set to begin writing it. Then one night I was listening to some music and suddenly this story began to pour out of my mind. Sometimes even I don't know where they come from. So here's a taste of what is rambling around inside my head. I may be contacted at writerscramp71@yahoo.com Small Differences By J.C. People are basically cruel, mean and petty. I should know I've been the butt of their jokes and hatred for many years. If you're one of those people who don't fit in, if you stand out from the crowd because your different then you know what I'm talking about. It started in elementary school, being the smallest in my class seemed to be the only reason I was picked on. No matter how hard I fought back I could never win. They didn't even respect me for sticking up to them. For the longest time I tried everything to fit in, I went out for all the teams at school, but I always got a talk from the coach explaining how I was just to small to compete. I begged my mom with endless fits until she gave in and bought me all the latest designer cloths, still I wasn't accepted. I worked hard to get to the top of my class, thinking being the smartest would get me some recognition, if anything it only made things worse. When I reached junior high I pretty much gave up on the hope of ever fitting in, even the stoners wouldn't have me. As the years went by I watched my classmates hit their growth spurts, while they were shooting up three, four even five inches at a time I measured mine in centimeters. Although my father would try to console me with promises that all the men in our family were late bloomers I wasn't buying any of it. I think it was about the time I realized that I was the only guy in my class who didn't have any hair above his dick when I decided things had to change. I was bound and determined that one way or another I wasn't going to be their whipping boy anymore. I started with jogging, it's cheap and easy to do, at least that's what I thought before I actually tried it. I planned to run a mile, which seemed like a nice round figure to start with. By the time I had run four blocks I thought I was going to pass out. When I reached six blocks my side was screaming at me to stop and just so I knew it was serious severe shooting pains delivered the message. At the eighth block I had to stop so I could retch my guts out. Who ever made up that bullshit about a runner's high lied. After my first attempt at jogging I decided to do a little research before I gave it another try. I checked out a few books on running and found out that you had to start small and listen to your body when it gave you signals. Armed with this new information I laced up my sneakers and gave a silent prayer that this time would be better. After the first couple of blocks I was starting to reach the limit of my endurance, as soon as my side began to hurt I stopped running and walked for a few blocks. The pain slowly went away and I resumed running. I don't really know how far I ran that day, but I did have a better sense of what I was doing. The success of that second run only spurred me on, I knew with time I was going to get better. At the end of my ninth grade year I still hadn't grown to anything resembling an average height. Even though by now I could run four miles it didn't seem to help where I needed it. My parents were beginning to worry; an appointment was made to see the family doctor. I was poked prodded and overall examined, why the doctor had to stick his finger up my ass I will never know, but basically he told us that he couldn't find anything physically wrong. And that we would have to wait for the results of my blood tests to tell us any more. On the drive home my mother and father argued about what they thought was the cause of my problem. My father blamed my mother, saying she smoked too much weed in college. My mother claimed my father was genetically deficient, what ever that was suppose to mean. A few weeks after the doctor visit my folks got a call that the results were in and we needed to talk. Even though I had pretty much given up the idea that it would be something as simple as a hormone imbalance the call seemed like a small ray of hope. Sitting in the outer office, waiting while the doctor talked to my parents first wasn't fun. Have you ever seen one of those old movies where the guy is sitting on death row, just counting down the minutes until he gets the chair? That's exactly how I felt; somehow I just knew it was going to be bad news. Knowing my luck I probably had a tumor or something. Suddenly the door opened and a nurse directed me into the doctor's office. Walking inside was a surreal experience. My mother was quietly sobbing and my father had a look of worry on his face that I had never seen him wear before. I felt like I was watching some bad after school special, the doctor asked me to have a seat. "I have your test results back Wade, and unfortunately I have some bad news. It seems that your pituitary gland isn't making enough of several different types of hormones. This is why you haven't matured beyond the physical development of a ten year old." The doctor explained. As if I didn't feel bad enough he had to go and call me a ten year old. Even though I had hoped and prayed it would be something simple, like taking some pills, I was still upset. "Now I want to order an MRI just to be sure that your pituitary gland isn't deformed, but barring that this can be taken care of with replacement hormone therapy. Now I don't want you to get the idea that this is going to be as simple as taking a few pills everyday. You will have to do that but I want you to be prepared for the accelerated growth you're going to experience, it won't always be pleasant. Fatigue, mood swings and overall growing pains can be expected." He rambled on about some more things but then I started to wonder just exactly how long it would take for me to grow. After he was done explaining things to me I asked my mom and dad to leave the room so I could ask the doctor some personal questions. "How long do you think it will take me to catch up to the rest of the kids in my class?" I asked him. "Well that really will depend on how well your body reacts to the replacement hormones and how quickly we find the right dosage." He told me. "Um how long do you think it will be before um my body starts working like other kids my own age?" I asked him hoping he really understood what I was asking, I didn't want to say it out loud but I really wondered when I would get some hair over my cock and how long it would be before I started to cum. He sat there for a few moments before giving his answer. "Oh, well I would say you could expect to see an increase in the size of your penis in about three to six months, your testes will drop further away from your body and you will start to grow pubic and underarm hair around the same time." He stated. "I also want you to be prepared for an increase in your libido; it won't be as gradual in your case as it would in a normally developing teenage male. You're going to experience some powerful urges and sometimes it will feel uncontrollable." He warned. The thought of me becoming an out of control sex maniac was amusing and frightening at the same time. I had never really had any powerful urges as the doctor put it, and even though I had taken sex ed in school somehow I didn't really know what to expect. "I have already informed your parents but I wanted to warn you against taking more than the prescribed dosage of this medication. It's extremely important that you follow my guidelines, these drugs aren't something to mess around with do you understand?" `Yes I understand." I said wondering what would happen if I took twice the amount. Would I grow twice as fast? While I was relieved in a sense I was also worried. I figured I had the whole summer to catch up to something resembling an average body for a 14 year old boy. But the Doctors warnings about sudden pains and urges weighed heavily on my mind. I don't know if I expected to suddenly start growing like Alice in Wonderland with that first pill. But somehow it didn't quite live up to the hype. After swallowing down the first dose with breakfast the next day I prepared myself for my daily run. I wondered if I only had minutes left until I would turn into a sex maniac.