Date: Mon, 29 Mar 2021 19:48:39 -0500 From: Total Boss Subject: Small no More - chapter two This is a work of gay fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely unintentional. This story's main themes are dominance, mind- control/ manipulation and reluctance. Please do not take this more seriously than it is intended. The author retains rights and title to this work. Reproduction of this work without author's consent constitutes a violation of the agreement. This is my first attempt here on Nifty. I hope you will have as much fun reading this as I had writing it. Your feedback is welcome. A huge thanks to all the wonderful authors who have kept me entertained over the past years. Your donations will keep Nifty going for years and years. Please go here and make your donation today: http://donate.nifty.org/ CHAPTER TWO - JOSH "More than 90% of those who used 'Small No More' as prescribed experienced an increase of their penis size from 'severely underdeveloped' to 'average'." I am staring at the email I just read. Make that re-read. I am pretty sure I have not taken a breath since I noticed it in my inbox, and I am not sure whether I will ever take a breath again. After months of Googling and finding nothing but bullshit information about my condition, I now have an email in my inbox that seems, well, tailor-made for me. My name is Josh, and ever since I can remember, I have been small. I have been the shortest kid in every class and every sports team I have been in. I turned seventeen years old last month in the home of my dad's previous business partner, "Uncle" Steve. I am staying with him while my dad is completing a two-year stint in the Middle East working for a US Army Contractor to get himself out of debt. I am living with "Uncle" Steve because I don't really have any family other than my dad. My mom and dad divorced ages ago, and I haven't seen my mom since I was two or three years old. My dad has no brothers or sisters, and while his parents are still alive, they are raging alcoholics, and we severed ties with them a long time ago. When dad decided that he was really going to do this Middle East tour, there was only one place that made sense for me to stay. The first couple of months have been ok. Uncle Steve is pretty much the same totally absent 'father figure' that my dad has always been. He is hardly ever at home because he travels nonstop for his business. When he is here, he mostly keeps to himself. To clarify the 'Uncle" thing, Uncle Steve and I are obviously not blood related. My dad and Uncle Steve started a business together when I was in kindergarten. Especially in the early years, we would hang out a lot during weekends, mostly because my dad and Uncle Steve would work through the entire weekend and didn't have money to pay for a babysitter. Calling him 'Uncle' started at a young age and just kinda stuck. I call him Uncle Steve, and Uncle Steve's son Travis calls my dad Uncle Larry. Uncle Steve and Travis made a big deal about my 17th birthday last month. I received cake, a birthday card and even some gifts. They really went the distance. Frustratingly though, the two of them insisted on measuring my height. They explained that this was a family tradition. Uncle Steve took me to the spot on their kitchen wall where he had marked Travis' height every year on his birthday. After he measured me, he declared me to be "just a hair shy of 5'5"." Not a good birthday gift. Being less than 5'5" at age 17 is not cool. Having this fact pointed out by someone who is almost a foot taller than me is even worse. Uncle Steve and Travis are both well over six feet tall. Travis, at 6'2" is just a tad shorter than his dad, who is just under 6'3". The lack of family resemblance does not stop there. Uncle Steve and Travis are both dark haired, and they somehow stay tanned to a shade of golden brown year round. I am blue eyed, blond, and fair skinned. While I am pretty bummed about my height, my short stature is not really what I lose sleep over. My much bigger (ugh, pun NOT intended) issue is that I have a dick the size of a five-year-old. I have a tiny micro dick that is less than two inches when soft, and about three inches long when fully hard (which is all the time actually). I have a pair of pea sized balls that perfectly complement my hardly visible prick. My tiny cock seemed age appropriate for most of my younger years. I played soccer and was also an avid swimmer throughout elementary school. Up until age 12 or so, I honestly don't recall feeling different from the guys on my team. When middle school started, my dick size suddenly became a huge (dammit, pun definitely NOT intended again!) problem. I remember my very first PE class in middle school as clearly as if it was yesterday. Not the PE class itself actually, I mean the aftermath in the locker room. When we hit the showers that day, it was as if all the guys in my class had grown up overnight. It looked like they had all gone to some kind of cock-growing-summer-camp. Sadly, no one told me about this magic camp, so I started middle school with pretty much the same tiny appendage I had all throughout elementary school. One other thing about my tiny pecker. It is hard all the time. And when I say "all the time," I actually mean "all the damn fucking time." The wind blows, I am boning. A leaf falls down from a tree, I'm boning. A pretty girl walks by, I'm boning. An ugly girl walks by, I am boning. I think of pretty girls, or ugly girls, or pretty girls and ugly girls at the same time, and I am boning. I have never been with a girl. I would love to be with one, but I don't plan to until and unless I get some kind of a growth spurt down there. I don't want to risk being discovered and becoming the butt of gossip and ridicule. Also, I really don't believe that girls are dying to dive on top of my finger sized baby carrot, when my class is full of boys who are packing normal sized tools. Luckily, the town we live in is not really populated with girls who are jumping on cocks of any size. Our city has tons of Evangelicals, Baptists, as well as a huge Mormon community. While they are always walking around talking about what every denomination that is not them is getting wrong about Jesus, they are in total agreement about premarital sex. Or better said, about the evil that is premarital sex. All the girls in my class have virginity rings, and purity pledges, and wet dreams about being virgins, and this is just fine with me. I am still holding out hope that I am a late bloomer down there, and I will hopefully have my growth spurt sometime soon. In the meantime, I am happy to delay dating. My eyes go back to the screen of my laptop and to the email I have received. The subject of the email is "Small No More." The message contains information about using a newly discovered therapy that has been proven to be "up to five times more effective as any other FDA approved Human Growth Hormone (HGH) Therapies." The product has proven effective for (and this is what really got my attention) "males between the ages of 16 and 25 who want to enhance their height, and/ or the size of their reproductive organs." It states that research has shown that this approach can add up to 3 inches to a person's height. As much as I would enjoy being taller, the more important information is the following sentence: "More than 90% of those who used 'Small No More' as prescribed experienced an increase of their penis size from 'severely underdeveloped' to 'average'." The article claims that the medication is well researched and safe, and that all of the products are sourced and produced in the United States. To get started I need to complete a health questionnaire, that will be reviewed by "our team of board-certified urologists and endocrinologists." No visits to a doctor's office are needed. All necessary laboratory testing and screening happens through USPS and there is no charge for any of the materials or postage. The email also states that this therapy approach is covered "by a growing number of insurance companies." My mouse arrow is hovering over the "APPLY TODAY" button. I am tempted to click on it but the nerves racing through my body are holding me back. I cannot help but wonder whether I am setting myself up for disappointment. My stomach feels funny, my chest feels tight and the palms of my hands are getting sweaty, even though Uncle Steve fights the summer heat by keeping his home air conditioned at a chilly 65 degrees Fahrenheit. My eyes keep going back to that one word "average." "From severely underdeveloped to average." What I would give to trade my tiny pee stick for an average-sized cock. "APPLY TODAY" and find out in 48 hours whether you qualify for this new therapy" My phone chimes. It's Travis, who is letting me know that he and his friend Taylor will be home in 20 minutes and are bringing pizza for dinner. I have 20 minutes to change the course of my life. I sit up, take a deep breath and look at my reflection in the large mirror that covers most of the wall of my bedroom. My shoulders barely clear the back of the seat I am sitting in. I imagine my upper body with an extra inch or two of height like the email promises. I definitely like my future taller self. While my right hand stays on the mousepad, my left hand travels to the inside of my underwear and grabs a hold of my tiny sausage. It's rock hard. Actually, it's throbbing, like it's talking to me, saying it wants to be bigger and thicker than its current miniature size. I feel horny all of a sudden and realize I need to rub one out before Travis and Taylor get here. I pull down my shorts and start playing with my little dick. I realize I need something to catch my cum with. I consider getting up from my desk chair and walking to my nightstand where I keep a box of paper tissues, but my need to cum feels too urgent, so I grab a pair of worn undies out of the laundry basket that's within reach. I resume rubbing my little cock using just my thumb and index finger. I feel the pressure building in my nuts and I start to rub faster. I turn to face the mirror and try to see my tiny tool. I cannot see it very well. My hand is too large, it's blocking me from seeing my dick. I close my eyes and Imagine my little dick growing larger. Four inches. Five inches. Six inches. Fuck, that is a huge cock. Six inches!! I am stroking fast now, and after an additional fifteen or twenty seconds or so, I feel my nuts drawing in close to my body. I stroke faster and squeeze harder, and after just a few more seconds, I cum hard into the pair of dirty underwear I have ready to catch my spunk. Three large shots of cum land on the black briefs, causing a very visible stain, and making me realize I probably should have gotten up from my chair to grab the tissue box that sits less than five feet from me. I quickly clean my hands and pull my pants back up. I check Travis' earlier text message one more time. He texted me just four minutes ago. Sixteen minutes left to change the course of my life!! I turn my head to the right and lock eyes with myself in the mirror. I am sensing the huge (PUN INTENDED!) impact of the decision I am about to take. This is the moment that I will always remember. This is the moment I decide that I deserve more than three fucking inches of dick meat. This is the moment I will celebrate for the rest of my life, every time I proudly look at my beautiful average sized cock. I sit up tall, take in a deep breath of air, and speak up. I notice my voice is trembling a bit, as I say. "SMALL NO MORE MOTHER FUCKERS. SMALL NO MORE." I turn back to my laptop, move the mouse to the bottom of the screen, and click the "APPLY TODAY" button.