Mike (mm AR)

I always knew that, sooner or later, something would have to be done about Mike, but I never imagined how it would happen. He and I grew up on the same street, and I knew him from my first day of school. From the start, he was a bully. He never gave me any trouble, though. Probably because he knew I wouldn't take it lying down. Our one run-in was when we were like 8 or 9 years old - I don't even remember what it was about - but he started something, so I slugged him. Mike won the fight, but I hurt him and he never messed with me again. He never messed with anyone who fought back. He was pushing kids around all the way up through high school, but always younger or smaller kids, guys who really couldn't defend themselves.

My feelings about him were mixed, though. He was hot - the best looking dude in school, and quarterback of the football team. He was a real stud at 6'2", 185 pounds, shoulder length blond hair, deep blue eyes. He was beautiful, built like a classical athlete, but he was such an asshole. He would push the ninth-graders around, make them open his locker for him each morning. If they didn't do what he asked, they would pay the price with black eyes or bloody noses. He had Andrew, the football team manager, in constant fear of him. Mike used him practically as his personal servant at games and practice. All the other guys on the team got a charge out of it when he razzed the poor kid. If there was ever a guy who needed to be taken down a peg or two, it was Mike.

* * *

I don't know where the power came from, or even exactly when it started. We always joked that my Mom was psychic, but she always said it was "women's intuition". There were also stories about a great-grandfather or something who came to America because he had been accused of practicing the "black arts" in the old country. But I never believed any of these stories - at least until my junior year in high school. That's when it all started. I found that I was able to change the size of things, just by thinking about it, concentrating really hard, willing it to happen. At first I just experimented on inanimate objects - making them bigger or smaller at will. Then I tried living things - plants and even animals. I could change them to any size I wanted and back again, for almost any length of time, and with no apparent harm to them. Then I started to make myself bigger, just a little at a time so no one would notice. Just an inch or so in height a month, so that at the end of 4 months, I had gone from 5'10" to 6'2". It was slow enough that everybody just thought I had taken a pretty good growth spurt. In the meantime, I had refined my powers to where I was able to change the proportions of my own body. You know - a little broader in the shoulders, a little narrower in the waist, and just a little extra in the cock department. I had pretty much the perfect body, I guess.

So when there was just about a month before summer break, I decided it was time to bring Michael McGuire down to size. I didn't know how it would play out, but I did know I would have to take it slow. It was a Friday afternoon during gym class, and Mike was teasing some poor kid in the locker room, and before I even thought about it - before I even realized what I was doing - I shrunk him! Just an inch. Nobody, including Mike, could really notice anything, but he seemed to zone out for a second, like at some level he did notice something was wrong. But that was all. About a week later, when he had some ninth-grader opening his locker in the morning, I shrunk him another inch. This time he had to notice that his clothes were getting just a little bit looser, and that his pants were a little longer. Still, he never gave it much thought. I guess he just thought he had lost a little weight. On the Monday of the last week of school, I took another inch from Mike. Now he knew something was wrong - his pants really were too long, all his clothes were way too loose. His friends started to ask him why he looked different - had he got a haircut? On the next to last day of school, I took one more inch. There was no doubt now. Despite his efforts to convince himself otherwise, he knew: he was shrinking. His friends kidded him on the last day of school, "Hey man, are you shrinking or what?" Mike just laughed it off, but he seemed a little quieter, and less sure of himself. He was really scared. His parents had arranged for extensive medical exams over the first weeks of break. He had lost a lot of weight in a short time (and 4 inches in height if they could let themselves believe it). It looked like it was going to be an interesting break. I doubt Mike was looking forward to it as much as I was, though.

* * *

Mike spent most of his summer going in and out of the hospital for tests. The doctors couldn't explain his loss of height and weight. Every time he would come home from the hospital, I would shrink him again, just an inch here and there. And each time he shrank, his folks rushed him back to the doctors for more tests. By the time classes were ready to start again in the fall, Mike was only 4'0" tall, and weighed only 50 or so pounds. He was much smaller now than even his 14-year-old brother, Kevin. I decided that four feet would be a good height for Mike to begin the new school year. I'd keep him that size for a while.

The first day of school must have the worst in Mike's life. His parents had to bring him into the school. They met with the principal in his office, I guess about special treatment or counseling that Mike might need. Then the meeting was over and Mike had to go to class. It was something else - the former BMOC, now being escorted to homeroom, wearing clothes that were clearly a little kid's (probably hand-me-downs from his own kid brother). He was so little and scared. He really was a cute little guy, though. It must have been hell for him: everybody staring at the "new little kid" until they realized who it was. Most would get embarrassed and look away.

Mike tried to keep a brave face about it, but things had definitely changed. His old friends just laughed at him and teased him. All the kids he used to bully were going to get their revenge. They were already pushing him around, shoving him, tripping him. He had suddenly become the brunt of every joke in the school. He probably got the worst of it from his friends on the football team. Steve, his former backup quarterback (now the starter) told Mike that he should apply for the job as team manager; that the other guys sure would like having him around. This didn't sound like fun to Mike, and he told Steve that he really didn't think he would want to do it. Steve got really pissed and hit Mike pretty hard. He grabbed him by the front of his jacket, and held him against the lockers so that his little feet dangled above the floor. "I don't give a shit what you want," Steve yelled. "But unless you want your ass kicked from one side of this school to the other, you'll get down to Coach's office and ask for that job right now. Your days of telling people what to do around here are over, so you better get used to doing what I tell you to. That is, if you don't want to get hurt pretty bad." He dropped Mike to the floor. Mike couldn't believe his friends would turn on him like this, but he knew Steve meant what he said.

Mike went and asked Coach for the manager job. "Mike," the Coach said, "I admire your attitude here, and understand that you want to stay involved with the team, but we already have a manager." Mike figured he was off the hook until he heard a voice from behind him. It was Andrew, the team manager. "I could use an assistant," he said, and the coach thought this was a great idea.

So Mike became the assistant of the guy he used to terrorize. Andrew would order Mike around during all the games and practices, and really ran him ragged. He made him do all the dirty work, and all the jobs that brought him in contact with the players. His duties were that of a waterboy, more or less, bringing water or towels to the players, and collecting their dirty laundry after the game. What he hated the most was helping the trainer - Mike helped to tape up the players before the game. Even worse though, the players liked to make him massage their sore muscles after the game. They said his little hands felt great. For Mike, having to feel all those big muscles now that he was so small was almost too much to take. Andrew even suggested that Mike wear his old game jersey on the sideline, sort of like a Mascot. The jersey hung on him like a dress, and added to his humiliation. The Coach and all the guys loved that!

* * *

After the team won the big game against the cross-town rival, a bunch of Mike's "buddies" asked him to go out and celebrate with them. They were having a party at some guy's house whose parents were away. Mike was pretty excited - he thought that maybe they were finally going to treat him like one of the guys again. It didn't turn out that way, though. They got Mike pretty drunk on only a couple beers. Steve and Carl (the team captain) took the helpless little jock up to a bathroom and stripped him. They shaved his whole body, and put a bowl over his head and gave him a little kid’s haircut. Then they dressed him in clothes that must have come from somebody's kid brother - shorts and a Power Rangers T-shirt. The guys were amazed at how young he looked - no one would ever believe he was 18 and a former football star. They gave Mike some more beer, to get him really drunk, and drove him down to the mall and left him there. It didn't take too long for someone to call the cops to report a lost child wandering the mall, on drugs or something. The police picked up Mike and placed him with Child Welfare Services - he was far too wasted to explain who he was, and the cops, all too used to hearing the outrageous claims of mentally ill or addicted children, ignored Mike's feeble protests.

It took Mike's parents almost 3 days to get him out. Those three days were an eternity to Mike. They had him figured for an eight or nine-year-old, but his first night in the home, he wet the bed because of all the drinking. So they forced him to wear diapers to bed the next 2 nights. The other kids teased the hell out of him, calling him "Diaper Boy" and stuff like that, beating him up and pushing him around. When he came back to school the following week, he was a mess. Besides, he was getting it pretty bad at home now too. After he had gone missing for those 3 days, his mom got real protective of him, the fact that he looked SO young only made it worse. He couldn't leave the house by himself anymore, and there always had to be someone there to watch him. Kevin, Mike's kid brother, was 14 years old and 5'7". He towered over his older brother now, and often had to stay in with him when their parents were out. This pissed him off, but at least he would finally, get the chance to make his older brother pay for all the bullshit he had had to put up with his whole life. He took whatever he wanted from Mike, who couldn't even protest, he was so scared what his brother might do to him.

* * *

So this guy was clearly ready to snap - he was a bundle of nerves. At every noise he heard, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He even had started to stutter whenever he got nervous or felt intimidated, which seemed to be pretty much all the time now. I saw him one day, sitting alone at lunch, and decided to make my move. I knew that I could push him over the edge if I wanted to, no problem, but I had a better idea. I would be his friend...

"Hey Mike", I said. He was startled.

"W-w-what do you w-w-want?" he stammered. Mike had reason to be wary. I mean, we were never friends to begin with, and lately, even his friends had turned on him. So why should he expect me to suddenly be nice?

But that was how it began. I asked if I could sit with him, and he fell all over himself, he was so excited. It must have been really tough on him, and not just that he was so much smaller than he had been. He had been the most popular guy in school, and it must have killed him to realize that he no longer had any friends. And then here I was, out of the blue, sitting with him at lunch - talking to him - it must have seemed too good to be true.

To say that Mike was grateful for my friendship would be a huge understatement. I guess what capped it was a couple days later, when I came upon a group of ninth-graders picking on Mike. They had stolen his book bag, and were playing keep-away with it - tossing it from one to another as Mike vainly tried to jump for it and get it back. I grabbed it out of the air, and handed it to Mike, telling the ninth-graders to go pick on someone their own size. Mike looked up at me like I was some kind of hero. From that moment on, he seemed to idolize me. He would follow me around all day like a puppy dog. At lunch, he'd split his sandwich with me, wait in line to get me snacks, buy me sodas - stuff like that. He really couldn't do enough for me. I pulled the switch on him pretty subtly, I think. I just started to ask him to do things for me before he could offer. We'd been eating lunch together for a week or so, and he'd offered me half his sandwich just about every day, so now I would just ask. And I'd ask him to get my soda, or wait in the snack line for me. At first it would be like, "Hey, Mike, would you mind getting me a soda," or something like that. But before long I was saying, "Why don't you go get me my soda." So it was less him doing me a favor, than doing something that was expected of him. He fell into the role easily enough. I guess all the stress he'd been going through had left him more impressionable that I had expected. I doubt he even noticed though. He was too happy to do anything at all for me, just so long as he had somebody to hang out with. When he was with me, I guess he almost felt normal again. In exchange for my friendship, he gave his complete loyalty. Soon, however, I hoped to turn that loyalty, that willingness to do things for me, into a sense of obedience - a need to do what I told him to. I just had to wait until the right moment.

* * *

That moment came faster than I had thought. One day at lunch, I could tell he had something on his mind. He kept looking up at me, and when I would catch his eye, he would look away quickly. Finally, when there was only about five minutes left, he asked. "Uh, Lloyd... I w-w-w-as kinda w-w-wondering, you know... if you weren't busy or anything, uh... m-m-maybe you might want to come over for dinner l-l-later in the week. My f-f-f-f-folks said it would be nice to see you again, and, uh, I think it would be k-k-kinda... c-c-c-cool." He was so nervous. Blushing, stammering his way through it like he was asking a girl out on a date. He was just asking a guy over for dinner, but you could tell he had practiced it. When I said yes, well, he was psyched.

The dinner was good. His parents made a pretty big fuss over me. I guess they were grateful about me being nice to Mike, too. And they knew my family and me anyway. Like I said, we've been neighbors for years. His mom made a big deal about how big I had gotten since she last saw me, and what a "handsome young man" I had become. I could see Mike shudder when she said stuff like that. Just before we were supposed to sit down for dinner, Mike's kid brother, Kevin, showed up. Kevin was in the eighth grade. He was about average in height, I guess. I knew him from the neighborhood to be a pretty good kid, kind of quiet, and not likely to follow in his older brother's footsteps. He was different tonight, though - more outgoing, self-assured, even cocky with Mike. And Mike's behavior changed too when Kevin arrived. He stopped talking, slumped his shoulders, and looked at the floor most of the time. The dinner had to be tough for Mike. He had to sit in some sort of a booster chair so he could reach the table. His mom cut all his food for him too, and made him drink out of a plastic cup with a lid on it. She said he had trouble with knives now, and that regular glasses were too big for him - he kept spilling. Mike turned beet red as she explained all this. I guess she didn't mean any harm, but it sure embarrassed poor little Mike. And every time he tried to say something, Kevin cut him off.

After dinner, we went up to his room to watch TV, but after only a couple of minutes, Kevin came up and told Mike he had to help him with his homework. "But I have company!" Mike protested. But Kevin just stood there in the doorway and stared Mike down. Eyes down, Mike said, "Okay - I'll be there in a few minutes." Kevin smiled and left the room.

"Why do you let him treat you like that?" I asked.

"What am I supposed to do?" Mike whined, his eyes welling up with tears.

"He's too big for me to stand up too now, and he's just waiting for me to give him some reason to hurt me... I used to tease him a lot, I guess."

"You could tell your parents," I suggested

"Oh, yeah. That would be great. Every time I mention some problem I'm having, they treat me more and more like a little kid - did you see the way she cuts my food? They'll have me in diapers again if I'm not careful."

"Well, why don't you come over to my house tomorrow night. You could stay over, if you'd like. It'd do you good to get out of here at least for the night." Mike went into orbit. He was so happy I thought he might cry.

"Really?" he exclaimed. "Just you and me? That'd be so awesome. I haven't been out of the house at night since..." He trailed off. "Well, for a while," he finished quietly. Of course he had to clear it with his parents, but they didn't have a problem with it. I mean, he was 18, and I only lived about a block away.

Mike was excited all day the next day, and when school was over and he came home with me; he was all keyed up like a hyper-active kid. I couldn't get over it. Here was Mike, who used to think he was God's gift to the world. Now he was following me around, trying to act like me, dress like me, almost willing to lose himself in me. Well, I know I could get used to that! Mike was more relaxed when we got to my house after school - more relaxed than I had seen him. My parents were out for the night, so we ordered a pizza and played Nintendo, and just talked a lot. We were having a pretty good time, Mike particularly so I think. I was surprised that he talked so candidly about what had happened to him over the past several months, and how it felt for him to go from being the Big Man on Campus to being the biggest joke in the School, how hurt he was when all his friends not only turned their backs on him, but turned on him. He really opened up. He talked about the doctors and the tests, how he was still hopeful that they would ultimately find a cure for what had happened to him. Of course, they hadn't even figured out the cause. He told me how much it meant to him to have me for a friend. It was all very touching.

It was time...

* * *

We went to bed late. I had a double bed in my room, and we would both sleep in that. We talked for a little while, about nothing in particular, until I turned the subject to sex.

"Jeez," I said, "it's been a while since I've gotten any."

Mike laughed. "Tell me about it!" he said. "I can't even get a girl to look me in the eyes anymore, let alone blow me." We lay there in the dark for a couple minutes without saying anything.

"Maybe you can do something for me," I said.

"Well, sure. Like I said, I'd do almost anything for you, Lloyd."

"I want you to get me off."

Mike didn't say anything. Then, "N-n-no way man. I d-d-don't go in for that queer shit."

"It's not 'queer', Mike. It's two buddies taking care of things for each other, that's all. Kinda like me looking out for you in school. C'mon, buddy - help me out!"

"I'm sorry, man," Mike said. "Ask me to do anything else. But I won't do this for you... I can't."

I didn't answer him right away. "Maybe I was wrong about you. I thought you were different now, but maybe you still are an asshole. You say that you appreciate me being your friend, and looking out for you at school, and protecting you from all those kids who pick on you. But you don't do anything for me." I paused for a moment. "I think maybe we shouldn't hang out together anymore." I just let it hang there. I actually felt Mike shudder as I said it. We lay there silently for a few minutes. I could hear him breathing, sniffling. I could tell he was crying, trying to hold back the tears. Finally he spoke.

"I'll do it," he said softly.

I rolled over on my back. Mike did nothing at first, then he reached out and laid his hand over my cock, and began to gently rub it through my boxers. I grabbed his hand, and placed it inside so he could jerk me off. It must have been hard for him. I mean, my cock was about the size his used to be before he shrunk. It must have seemed huge to him now. He couldn't get his little hand around it, so he reached down with his other hand and started to work my cock two fisted. It felt great, too. Now I knew why the guys on the team liked to have Mike massage them - his little hands were hot! He worked like that for a while, and I was really getting off on it. He would look up at me every few seconds, and when I caught his eyes and smiled at him approval, his eyes kind of lit up. He was really getting off on my approval, I guess. I was getting pretty close now, but I really wasn't ready to shoot just yet. I made him slow down. I couldn't believe it. Michael McGuire was blowing me! He wasn't doing too bad a job either. He couldn't take it all, of course. It was just too big for him, and I didn't want him to gag or anything his first time. There would be time for that later.

It didn't take too long for me to come, and I shot a pretty good load. It must have seemed like gallons to Mike though. I guess he wasn't expecting it, or maybe it was just too much for him, but even though he tried to swallow all of it, he couldn't. Cum spilled out of his mouth and ran down his chin. I smiled down at him, but he didn't smile back though.

"Mike," I said, "I gotta tell you, man. That was amazing! That had to be one of the best blow jobs I've ever had." Mike brightened at the praise, and I saw the beginnings of a faint smile.

“Really?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, Little Man. That was great. You made me really happy tonight!"

I grabbed a T-shirt off the floor, and used it to wipe the mess off his face. Mike crawled up beside me and lay down. I rolled over on my side, facing him this time. I put my arm across him, and held him tightly against me. We lay there in silence for a while. I could see he had a tear in his eye, and figured that he was just a little upset about what had happened tonight - it probably wasn't the way he had had the evening figured. But then Mike turned his head and looked into my eyes.

"You made me very happy too, Lloyd," he said quietly. I couldn't believe it - and I had just made him blow me! He was mine.

* * *

Mike was almost like a different person after that. It was like taking away all the posturing and macho bullshit had allowed his better qualities to blossom. It was as if by becoming smaller, he became a better person. He showed a humility, a generosity, and a sense of humor that he never had before. And while he could never really reclaim his former position in the school, most of the kids were coming to accept Mike. He was kind of funny now, and nice, and the kids seemed to like it. I also came to appreciate Mike for the new man he had become. I originally stood up for him and protected him only as part of my plan, but now I did it because I liked him, and wanted to take care of him. And, of course, he was totally devoted to me.

The problem was - not everybody in school got it. For some reason, Mike's former teammates on the football team couldn't take Mike at face value. They couldn't get beyond the fact that he looked different now - that he had become a little guy. They just couldn't judge him by the great guy he had become. His former best friends were the worst. Long after everyone else had gotten on with life and left Mike to get on with his, these guys continued to seek him out for the sole purpose of tormenting him. It was hard for me, because I was growing closer and closer to Mike, really caring about him. I knew that these guys were hurting him, and that it was my fault. I mean I could have grown Mike back to normal any time I wanted and ended all this, but I knew that if I did, I'd lose him. He would probably go back to being the same old asshole he was before. What I had to do was stop these guys from bothering him. But what could I do to the whole football team to get them to lay off?

Well, the answer was, I didn't have to do it to the whole team. I really only had to deal with the ringleaders. Steve was the worst - he and Carl. Carl was the teams captain and biggest player - 6'5" 220 pounds. He was the fastest too. With his speed and size, he was sure to get a big scholarship from a Division I school. He was as big a stud as Mike had been, bigger in fact, with dark hair and green eyes. Steve wasn't as big, but was every bit as good looking - 6'1" 180 pounds, with brown curly hair and eyes. Steve, Carl, and Mike had always been like the Three Musketeers before. Now for some reason Steve and Carl made it their business to give Mike trouble. I figured that if I could get Steve and Carl to lay off Mike, the rest of the team was sure to follow.

My opportunity came near the end of the Homecoming Dance; the football team was posing for pictures before leaving. So when Carl and Steve posed for a shot together, I shrunk their cocks and their balls. They didn't realize it had happened yet, but their dicks were now the same size - less then 2 inches, as small around as their little finger. Their balls were like small grapes - only half an inch in diameter. Half an hour later, Steve had driven his date, Jean, home after the dance, and had finally convinced her to give him a blowjob. Steve had told her she could take it slow if she wanted, and not to worry if she gagged a little at first, so when she opened his fly and saw his little 2 inch dick, it was all she could do to keep from bursting out laughing. She took it all into her mouth, all right - in fact, she took his balls too. Steve had never had such an amazing blowjob. It felt as though she had taken all 7.5 inches! And his balls! He'd never experienced that before. It felt so amazing that after less than a minute - he lost it, and blew what felt like the biggest load of his life, and Jean swallowed it all without batting an eye.

"That was the best fucking blowjob I've ever had," he said. "How the hell could you get it all in like that?"

Well that was too much for Jean. She burst out laughing.

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, honey, but it was pretty easy."

Jean was still laughing hysterically as she climbed out of the car, leaving Steve, blushing, to pull his pants back up and zip his fly. When he reached down to tuck his cock back into his boxers, though, he couldn't find his cock at first. What he did find felt like a cock, but it was too tiny - what the fuck had she done to him, he thought. He rushed home as fast as he could, ran up to his bedroom and stripped in front of the mirror. He couldn't believe what he saw. How could it happen that his cock, 7+ inches not two hours ago when he pissed at the dance, was now so tiny? And what the fuck was he supposed to do about it? He couldn't just go to his folks and say, "Mom, Dad, I need to see a doctor because my cock has shrunk." Not only would be too embarrassing for him to bear, but no one would ever believe it - the doctors would just think he was some poor guy with a tiny dick and a sick sense of humor. He stared at it for over an hour before he went to bed, hoping against hope that when he woke up the next morning, everything would be back to normal. It wasn't.

Jean only told a few of her friends about Steve, but it was too good a story not to share. By the time Monday came around, nearly everyone had heard Jean's story: she had baby-sat for a 5 year old all that fall, and Steve's cock was smaller than a 5 year old's. People laughed at Steve as he passed them in the halls. He was pretty shaky all day at school - all his friends from the team noticed it. The Coach noticed it at practice that afternoon. His quarterback and team captain were supposed to be the leaders of his team, and they seemed withdrawn, distracted. This could be a problem. With two big games to go yet in the season, he couldn't have his team lose its leadership. So he called Carl and Steve into his office, and proceeded to ream them out.

"You two are supposed to be the leaders of this team, and if you can't get it together, then I am going to hold you personally responsible. I don't know what the problem is with you guys, but we have two games left. You two better get your minds right today. I can't afford to have you fuck things up this late in the season. And don't think that the Coach's Recommendation can't effect your athletic scholarships for college next year... Now get the fuck out of here and hit the showers!"

"Uh, Coach," Steve said meekly, "I was gonna shower at home today..."

"That's another thing," bellowed the Coach. "Neither of you showered with the team today, and I don't like that. This team showers together! Now get out there and hit those showers!"

Steve was blushing as they left the Coach's office, not because he had just gotten reamed out - Coach yelled every day. It was the prospect of having to shower in front of the guys, especially Carl, and have his secret found out. Luckily, the other guys had pretty much finished up, and were already leaving. Still though, Steve would have to shower with Carl, who had the biggest cock on the team. If Carl saw Steve's little dick, he'd never hear the end of it! So he undressed quickly and walked to the shower with his towel around his waist. He picked the corner shower, and kept his face to the wall, hoping that he could get in and out without seeing Carl. But then Carl walked into the shower room, also wearing a towel. He looked like he was kind of trying to decide which shower to use. Steve hoped that he would pick the one furthest from him. And that's where Carl seemed to be headed, when his towel started to come loose. Carl spun around trying to grab the towel, but for once in his life, he wasn't fast enough and it fell to the floor. He stood there, facing Steve, with his secret exposed. Steve stared at Carl's once proud member, now as tiny as his own.

"Jesus, Carl," he said, forgetting his own little cock and turning toward him, "What the fuck happened to your dick?"

"Why don't you shut up, Assh..." Carl began. But he was struck silent by the sight of Steve's tiny prick. They just stood there in silence, two big jocks staring at each other's pre-school sized tools. Steve broke the silence by suggesting that the two of them get out of there before anyone else saw them. His parents weren't at home that night, so they went to Steve's house and up to his room. Neither knew what to say to the other, so they just stood there for a while.

"What the fuck is going on here, Carl? What happened to us?" asked Steve.

"I dunno," answered Carl. "But, uh... maybe you should let me see your thing."

"No way, Man!" responded Steve. "That's too weird."

"C'mon. I'll show you mine. We gotta figure out what happened to us!"

So they agreed, and each dropped his pants so that the other could see. It was amazing, really. Both had been pretty well hung. Carl had been much bigger - about 10 inches of uncut cock to Steve's 7. Now they were exactly the same size, only Carl had a little foreskin and Steve didn't. Carl asked Steve to explain how it happened to him. After Steve told his story, Carl told his. He had dropped off his date after the dance, and drove home. He undressed and hopped into bed with his latest copy of Penthouse. But when he reached down to start jerking off, his cock wasn't there! Or at least he couldn't find it right away. What his hands did find nearly made him faint, because it was so tiny that it couldn't be his dick. It was practically lost in his pubic hair. He didn't sleep much that night - he spent it trying to figure out what had happened to his pride and joy.

Steve felt sorry for Carl. After all, he had more to lose. He was really glad to know that he wasn't going to have to go this alone, though. Whatever had happened to them, they could work together to figure it out. So far, they knew that it happened at the dance. Beyond that they had no idea. They decided that they would have to see doctors that week. They would each go to a different doctor to see what they could find out. The doctor's visits, as it turned out, didn't help. The doctors didn't believe them. The doctor Steve saw assumed he was just a guy with a tiny dick who was trying to get out of a test or something. Carl's assumed it was a similar type of scam. He said that while Carl's cock was undeniably tiny, it was nonetheless fully functional and within the normal range (he did say, however, that it was the smallest he'd ever seen). The two jocks were beside themselves, Carl in particular. Both were horny a lot, as teens are apt to be, but Carl refused to touch his cock. He hated to feel the tiny thing down there. It just made him sick. So later that week, when Steve stayed over at his house, he got an idea. He had no doubt that as long as he was stuck with this tiny cock, he'd never be able to be with a woman. He just couldn't face the embarrassment. But maybe, since Steve and he were in the same boat, what would be the harm... They were laying twin beds in Carl's room, just talking.

"Uh... Steve?" Carl said. "Are you as horny as I am?"

"Sure am," answered Steve, "I haven't really gotten off since the night of the dance."

"Listen, Steve. We're buddies right? I think I have a way we can help each other out here. I can't stand touching my cock anymore. Neither can you. But maybe it wouldn't be so hard for me to touch yours…” Steve didn't say anything.

"Look - I know it sounds queer, but I can’t think of another way. I mean I can't jerk off - I hate touching that little thing. And I sure don't want anybody else to see it either. But it'd be different with you. I mean, we're already best friends, right? I think I could do yours, though. I'm sure I could..."

Steve said nothing. He sat up in bed and just stared at Carl. Carl figured he had gone to far - fuck, he thought. Then Steve got up and sat on the edge of Carl's bed. He reached under the covers and into Carl's boxers, and for the first time in his life, he touched another man's cock. He grabbed Carl's little dick - it was so small! Gently, he began to stroke it. And Carl reached over and began to rub Steve's little dick through his underwear. So Steve crawled under the covers next to Carl. It was pretty crowded - two big jocks in one little bed. Steve couldn't get over how cool it was. I mean - it wasn't like queer shit, it was just...cool. It was nice to be so close to Carl, to feel his body against his, his breath. He got carried away or something, and without thinking, he leaned over and kissed Carl. He froze, sure that Carl was about to fucking kill him. But Carl just smiled and kissed him back. It was pretty intense - the biggest jocks in the school, in a single bed, kissing and jerking off each other's pre-school sized cocks.

From that night on they were pretty much inseparable. And the rest of the team began to notice, how they kept to themselves, gave each other looks they others weren't supposed to see... They started to refer to them as the "fags" behind their backs, and it was true. They were totally stuck on each other, maybe even in love. But they couldn't afford to be found out yet. They still needed those athletic scholarships, and if the Coach found out they were queering each other - well, they could kiss those recommendations good-bye. Needless to say, Steve and Carl had plenty to keep them busy, between their new found love, if that's what it was, for each other, and their efforts to keep it secret. They just couldn't be bothered with poor little Mike anymore.

* * *

With Carl and Steve out of the picture, Mike was able to settle into a more comfortable existance at school. The guys on the team just sort of left him alone, without those two egging them on. His friends ignored him completely, which wasn’t so bad considering. Mike was never going to be the BMOC again, but he was able to pick up the pieces.

Not long after Christmas break, Mike was sitting alone in study hall when one of the younger kids from the team came along and sat down with him

“Hey Mike – name’s Will. You probably don’t remember me too much. I was on the JV squad when you were helping out during varsity games and all this Fall.”

“Yeah, I remember you,” Mike replied a little guardedly. “You’re a QB like me - well, like I used to be…” he added quietly

“I’m real sorry I never got to see you play – I hear you were amazing.”

Mike exhaled loudly. “So what do you want, Will?” he asked. Mike was still a little wary about the kids at school – it wasn’t all that long ago that every kid in the place seemed to have an axe to grind with him.

“Well, you know that Steve is going to graduate in the Spring, so there is going to be an opening at quarterback for next year. I know I’m only a Freshman now, but I think I might have an outside shot as starter next Fall. But I’d need some help. I overheard a lot of the guys talking about you in the locker room – how great you used to be before… well, you know…

“Anyway, if you weren’t too busy or anything with school and stuff, I thought maybe you could help me out a little – you know, with strength training and maybe some pointers and stuff. I’d sure appreciate your help…”

“Sure! I’d love to,” Mike answered , maybe a little too eagerly. He was so excited to help out for a couple reasons. He really did miss football. And dammit, he had been good! At least he’d be able to use his knowledge of the game for something. On top of that, he was grateful to have someone seek him out – like he wasn’t “just” a freak to Will – he had something to offer.

Mike was so excited that he could hardly shut up about it on the walk home from school that day. Finally though, he paused. “Um, Lloyd – I’ll have to work out with Will after school a few times a week… if that’s cool with you.”

I laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Mikey – you don’t think I’ll be jealous, do you? You aren’t planning to fool around with this little Freshman are you?”

Mike blushed deeply. “No – I just won’t do it if you don’t want me to…”

“Nah – you go ahead and work with the kid – just so long as you don’t start to neglect me.”

(to be continued)