Date: Thu, 13 Dec 2007 03:14:59 -0800 (PST)
From: j c <writerscramp71@yahoo.com>
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.