By Zynder
zboy@fastmail.com
Copyright 2024 by Zynder, all rights reserved
* * * * *It’s
Not Fair - Reggie
by Zynder
Boy Stuff Magazine
It’s Not Fair Column,
by Doctor Cassandra Miller
Please Doctor Miller, I need help.
My name is Reginald Dwight Mayfair. If that name sounds
familiar, my mother had a thing for Elton John when I was born fifteen
years ago, so she named me after him. Mayfair is my
mom’s name. All I know about my sperm donor is
that he was Jamaican. That is where I get my very black skin
from. I’m the blackest boy in my
neighborhood. At the age of twelve, I joined our local gang,
the Chester Homies. I was pre-puberty then. I was
five-foot-two inches tall and weighed all of one hundred pounds. I was
also totally hairless with a bald four-and-a-half-inch pencil
dick. Heck the pencil might have been bigger around than my
skinny pecker. Puberty hit when I was thirteen and I grew
big and turned into a real man by my fifteenth birthday last summer.
When I was twelve my mom married Albert Kopecki, the whitest person you
ever saw, except for his nine-year-old daughter Mary Jane
Kopecki. She is even whiter than her father. Both
have flaming red hair which only adds to their whiter than white
skin. Being a blacker than black, Jamaican boy in an all
black neighborhood, I needed the Chester Homies to survive with a new
white step-dad and step-sister. Now, the Chester Homies
aren’t a mean, violent gang. Just a group of boys
ganged together to fiend off the real bullies in our
neighborhood. The thing is mom never saw it that
way. She mistook my normal puberty aggression as a bad sign
that I was turning into the wrong kind of kid. She was
afraid I was becoming a gang-banger. So, early last summer
she took me to see a doctor.
The whole family went to see Doctor Emma Carson. The entire
family went back with me to the examining room. The entire
family sat and watched me strip naked in front of them, so Doctor
Carson could examine me. They all watched as she measured
everything. At fifteen; I was five foot eight inches
tall. I weighed one hundred and thirty pounds of pure
muscle. I did a lot of push-ups and sit-ups to get the very
fit body I had. She even measured my dick at
seven-and-a-half-inches long and as thick around as a toilet paper
role, maybe just a little thicker than that, because I can’t
put it inside a toilet paper role. I know because I tried
and it wouldn’t fit. My balls were the size of a
tennis ball and hung very low. She even played with my dick
until I was fully erect and then my dick was eight-and-a-half inches
tall. She jerked me off and collected my sperms to be sent
off to a lab for tests. She did all of that in front of my
family, including my twelve-year-old step-sister Mary Jane, who I now
call MJ. It was the most humiliating day of my entire
life. Even now I look back on that day and cringe.
My diagnosis was that my puberty had gone wild and that my brain
couldn’t keep up with my body changes. She said my
dick and balls were way too big for a boy of my age.
I’m guessing this white doctor never examined a healthy black
boy before. We all have big dicks and balls. She
told my mom and step-dad that she knows of a therapy that can eliminate
my aggression and reverse the bad side affects of me going through
puberty too fast and outgrowing what my brain can handle.
When she said it I cringed, because it sure didn’t sound like
anything I wanted. She said my therapy program would be a
combination of physical, emotional and medicinal. She said
that starting today, she would put me on a suppository called
Puericil. She then gave my parents as brochure about how I
was to be treated at home. In the brochure it recommended
that the youngest girl in the family be assigned to supervise me, which
means she is to totally control me. MJ smilied really big at
that pronouncement. She immediately asked if she can call me
Reggie from now on and was given permission. I hate
Reggie. The gang just called me Reg. It also said
that I should go totally naked at home. She explained that
the wearing of clothing was feeding my ultra macho
aggression. No, my aggression comes from being a man and not
a boy any longer, but she just ignored me when I tried to tell her
that. The last thing before we left her office to go home
was that she instructed MJ on how to administer my puericil.
I had to bend over the doctors examination table and MJ shoved a huge
capsule up my ass with a gloved finger. My dick instantly
boned up as soon as her finger went into my ass-hole.
Yes. Total humiliation. My twelve-year-old white
step-sister stuck her finger up my ass. And I just learned
she will do that every day from now on.
Let me tell you, once home I fought with my parents and especially MJ
about my new lifestyle. Every time I argued that I
wasn’t going to let MJ do something, my step-dad would pull
me over the back of the sofa and hold me while MJ beat my ass with a
wooden spoon. That happened immediately, because I fought
stripping naked for them to look at me again. I
lost. Both the battle and my clothes. For the
first week, my ass was beat at least four times a day. When
I refused to let her give me a bath, I got my ass beat. When
I refused to let her jam that suppository up my ass, I got my ass
beat. Then by the second week I wasn’t being beat
as often. I was letting MJ control me. I was at a
total lose as to why I was being more compliant. My step-dad
didn’t have to hold me down for whippings anymore.
By the end of the second week, I just leaned over the sofa on my own
and let her whip my ass with the wooden spoon.
We went back to Doctor Carson every month, so she could take my
measurements. My measurements were shrinking. Not
by a lot but a little. My dick was getting
smaller. My balls weren’t hanging down as
much. My weight was decreasing. My height was
getting lower. By the end of summer, when I had to go back
to school. I was down to five-foot-six inches tall and one
hundred and ten pounds. I was definitely less muscular and I
was hairless. All of my body hair was gone. My
pit hair, my chest hair, my leg hair, my butt hair and worst of all my
dick hair was gone. My dick had shrunk too. It
was now only five inches long and it would fit into a toilet paper role
and have room to spare. My boner was now only six-inches
long and only produced a small amount of sperms. Doctor
Miller, how does that happen? How does a boy’s
body get smaller? I mean. Where does all that
body I used to have, go? I was freaking out. My
body was changing and not for the good. I was becoming less
of a man. But by then, I couldn’t fight it
anymore. I somehow lost my will to fight. I was
beginning to accept everything. By the time school started,
the Chester Homies stopped letting me come around. I
wasn’t actually kicked out, I just wasn’t welcome
any longer. I was being teased at school in the
boy’s showers after PE for my lack of hair. I
still had a somewhat respectable dick, but without hairs I looked funny
and was teased for it. The thing is; back before my
treatments I would have beat anyone teasing me to a pulp.
Now, I just accept it and go on.
I just came home from the doctor and I am scared to death.
It’s been seven months since I was put on Puericil and this
new lifestyle. My measurements have me so scared.
I’m now only five-foot-one inches tall. I only
weight ninety-eight pounds. I am totally hairless except for
the hair on my head. I mean I am slick, smooth,
bald. My dick is just under four inches long.
It’s skinnier than my pinky finger. My balls are
up tight to my body and small. I’m way smaller
than when I first went to Doctor Carson. I’m
smaller than when I was twelve-years-old before I started
puberty. I’m a little boy and MJ treats me like a
little boy. She spanks me now. With her
hand! I no longer get whippings with the wooden
spoon. It’s really embarrassing laying across her
lap naked and spanked with her hand like a little boy. She
has me go out in the yard naked and sprays me down with a water hose
like I’m a six-year-old or something and what’s
worse, I enjoy it and really enjoy it when some other boys came over
and strip naked and play in the water with me. They are
seven-and eight-year-olds. She gives me baths and I let
her. She puts me to bed at 8:00 p.m. and I let
her. I used to stay up until midnight.
Doctor Miller, I’m really, really scared. Doctor
Carson said her therapy would reverse my puberty, but does that include
shrinking and getting smaller? Am I going to keep getting
smaller? How little am I going to get? How much
younger am I going to get? I’m at pre-puberty
now. Does it stop here or keep going? My
sixteenth birthday is coming up and I look like a
twelve-year-old. Am I going to get even younger and turn
into a ten-year-old, or worse an eight-year-old? I need your
advice. I don’t know what to do. I have
talked to mommy and daddy, but they don’t listen.
Oh! That changed too. I don’t remember
when, but at some point I stopped saying mom and step-dad and just say
mommy and daddy now. Really embarrassing when we are out around other
people. Mommy and Daddy only listen to Doctor
Carson. MJ listens to me, but she just tells me all is just
fine, don’t worry about anything, she will take good care of
me. Okay, it’s humiliating when your whiter than
white little sister grabs hold of your hand and takes your black butt,
I am not allowed to say ass anymore, for walks around the
neighborhood. She takes me to the park to play.
Swing and slide with the other little boys and girls. She
has even pulled my shorts and undies down and spanked me in front of
them, when she says I’m being naughty.
She’s had me play outside naked. I’m
almost sixteen-years-old and playing naked out in pubic.
I’m scared Doctor Miller. I really am
scared. Is this all due to Puericil? Maybe Doctor
Carson can stop giving it to me? Is there possibly some
reversing age drug mixed in with the puericil that Doctor Carson can
stop giving me. I don’t want to get smaller and
younger. If you know Doctor Carson, can you talk to
her. Please. Please help me.
It’s bad enough letting MJ take total control over me, but
please do something about me getting smaller and younger.
Help me! I beg you. I’ll do anything
you say if you’ll help me.
Reggie.
I so hate that nickname, but I have to use it, because MJ says so.