FSE

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Brandon suffered through the last few hours of the day by focusing his rage on completing his task. All the jeers in the hallway were nothing to him. The second he got his muscles back all those dicks in the hall who thought they could hit him while he was down would have to get down and beg for forgiveness. He practically cackled with malicious glee as he imagined each and every one of them down on their hands and knees singing praises to his glorious cock and his magnificent muscles. Brandon would stand over them, completely nude as he was always meant to be and plant a lurid kiss on his beefy biceps while the puny masses continued their worship.

Despite his hope for a bigger, buffer tomorrow, being the school punching bag was emotionally draining. He wished he had someone out there smaller and punier than he that he could boss around for a while. Sure, he could pull some pencil-necked geek into a restroom stall and make the puny little dweeb worship what was left of his pecs and biceps, but word would get out; it always did. No. He needed someone not only weak and pathetic but also someone who would never dare rat on him, and Brandon knew just the guy.

Brandon was grinning from ear to ear as he stomped through the front door of his house after class. His sister's car was nowhere to be seen. He knew she liked to hang out with her friends after school, and he doubted she would be home for several hours. That left him and his designated bitch completely alone. It felt like Christmas for the former jock. The now lean, lithe Brandon had so much pent up rage and frustration that he felt like he could burst if he didn't exert his rightful authority over someone else.

Brandon stomped menacingly into the front room to find Seth laying on the sofa in front of the big screen TV. Brandon had to stifle his sadistic glee long enough to keep up the ruse. "Where's Sarah?" He asked innocently.

"S...She's out with her friends..." Seth muttered quietly. Brandon had to fight back a smirk. Even in his reduced state, Seth was still terrified of him. This would make it all too easy.

"Any word on when she'll be back? I really need to talk with her." Brandon asked pleadingly. He needed to be sure he was in the clear before he dropped the ruse completely, but so far it looked like smooth sailing.

"She's off watching a movie. Some chick flick. I dunno." Seth muttered. He gave a weak shrug and then continued his explanation. "Probably not until ten or so..."

Jackpot. Brandon didn't even try to stop the sadistic grin that spread across his face. He was home free. "Good. Now scoot over. I need to watch TV." Brandon said flatly. He could have gone straight in for the kill, but he wanted to see just how ballsy his little bro would be now that he thought Brandon was cursed to get ever weaker.

"There's another chair..." Seth replied. He tried to come off as sounding resolute, but his voice trembled meekly as he gestured towards the recliner.

"I know there's another chair." Brandon responded. His voice once again taking on his old tones of malice and disdain. "But I ain't watching that Spongebob shit."

"You've got a TV in your room..." Seth replied. He tried his best to sound brave, but his resolve was faltering by the second.

"So do you." Brandon responded with a sneer. "And I'm going to watch wrestling on the big screen."

"But... Sarah said..." Seth started to say.

"But Sarah Said..." Brandon parroted in a mockingly nasally voice. "Fuck what that bitch says." Brandon spat. "Sarah's not here."

"But the curse..." Seth started to say. He could already see that Brandon was back to his old self, but Seth's douchebag of a brother was still limited by the spell, right? He couldn't actually do anything against him could he? Seth wasn't so sure anymore.

"But the curse." Brandon once again parroted, but this time he had a slow slurred voice that implied mental retardation. "The curse is gone." Brandon added in his normal menacing voice. He sneered at his brother as he saw the fear once again return in full force.

"But... When she finds out..." Seth sputter meekly.

"What makes you think she'll find out?" Brandon said menacingly. He was now leaning over the armrest of the couch and glaring directly at his cowering brother. "I'm not gonna tell her, so that means the only one here who could do such a thing would be you. A whiny little runt who has never once been able to stand up to me, and you know why? You don't have the balls."

Seth scooted back further and further in his seat until he was hunched into a ball against the far armrest. Now that Brandon was far weaker than he had been, he and his older brother were pretty similar in terms of build; Seth probably even had him beat for muscles and definitely had the upper hand in height, but Seth just couldn't summon the courage to defy him. Years upon years of torment had left the older brother a terrified, emotional wreck.

Seeing Seth cowering like this filled Brandon with a rush of adrenaline and exhilaration. All his pent up frustration over his current status came bubbling to the surface. Brandon wanted to see Seth squirm and suffer for all the injustices he had endured over the past few days.

"That's right. You've always been a weak little shit; always cowering behind your sister; always running to momma; always curling into a ball and crying at even the slightest provocation." Brandon spat mockingly. His sneer had once again given way to a grin of sadistic glee. Brandon reached down and began tugging at Seth's loose shorts.

"What...?" Seth managed to squeak.

"Don't act like you don't know." Brandon said with a sneer. "We're gonna measure. Even now that I have lost so much, I am still more of a man than you'll ever be.

Seth continued to cower in his corner, but he made no effort to fight back as Brandon peeled off his shorts. He knew it was inevitable anyway. All he could do is sit it out and hope he could summon the courage to rat out his douchebag younger brother when their sister got home.

To Seth's surprise, Brandon undid his own belt buckle and kicked off his jeans too. Seth gasped in shock as his brother's cock came into view. It was not much longer than his and surprisingly skinny.

"You like that, fag?" Brandon asked mockingly as he peeled his shirt off too to reveal his lean, cut abs and lithe torso. "I want you to take a good hard look at what that psycho bitch has done. I have lost more cock than you will ever have, and I still have more than you." Seth sat there shuddering in fear. He had no idea where Brandon was going with this, but he was sure it wasn't going to be good.

"I want you to remember this when I get my size back." Brandon said menacingly. The venom dripped off his voice. "When I'm back to my full size you will remember what it was like. Even when I was at my weakest you still couldn't face me. Soon I'll be just as huge as I always should be, and you'll realize just how weak and pathetic you are compared to me."

Brandon's villainous diatribe was suddenly interrupted by a new voice. "When you get your size back?" The woman's voice asked with mocking disdain. Brandon spun around to see his sister leaning against the doorway. Sarah tilted her head to the side and flashed a venomous smirk. "You really don't understand how dark magic works, do you?" She asked.

Brandon glowered at her, but made no attempt to respond. Sarah merely shrugged and then continued her explanation. "Witchcraft is fueled by negative emotions." She explained blithely. "So I guess I ought to thank you. All the hatred and anger I have harbored against you all these years has made my powers quite incredible." She explained with a wry smirk.

"So, what? If we all get together and start singing Kumbaya you'll go back to being a flat chested little nobody?" Brandon replied with a snarl.

"I don't think that'll be enough." Sarah responded with a wry chuckle. "But that's really not the point. You see... There's a reason witchcraft is considered evil. It can only be used to bring harm to others." She continued to stare at Brandon with a bemused look of satisfaction on her face that belied the rage that boiled beneath. She was far more furious than she could ever remember being, and Brandon was the sole source of all her anger.

Brandon balked. A look of understanding crossed his face. "You don't mean..."

"Oh, but I do." Sarah replied with a sardonic chuckle. "Even if I felt like forgiving you, I don't have it in my power to grant what was taken."

"No..." Brandon uttered silently. This had to be a joke. There had to be a way to get back to his true glory. There's no way he could go through life with such a puny dick. "No! NO NO NO!" He screamed. His voice getting louder with each repetition until he was screaming with all his might.

"Take it back!" Brandon screamed in rage. "I am not going through life with this fuckin noodle dick!" He jiggled his reduced cock with one hand as he continued to scream and rage.

"If only you would be so lucky." Sarah said in a voice that was so cold and bitter that it made Brandon freeze dead in his tracks.

"No... no no no... You can't..." He pleaded in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "Please... you can't."

"I told you. One chance. One. That's all you get." Sarah said flatly. "And the second you think I'm not looking are right back to your old ways." Sarah was slowly marching forward as she shot her younger brother an icy glare.

Brandon's heart was pounding in terror. He knew she had it well within her power to make good on her threat. The only chance he had was to somehow appeal to her. "Please... anything... I'll do anything..." He pleaded. Tears were welling up in his eyes. He couldn't even remember the last time he had cried. Not since he was a toddler most likely, but he had never been this terrified before. "please..." He uttered one last time in a hoarse, whiny whisper.

"Beg all you like, but I know better than to trust you. You always go on and on about how you are the biggest man around, well a real man wouldn't abuse his strength and status like you do. If you ask me. Seth is more of a man than you ever were..." Sarah said. Her flat, even tone sent shivers down Brandon's spine, but what she said next really made him freak. "You're not even half the man your brother is." She added with a menacing sneer.

Brandon could feel the hate and malice wash over him like an icy jet of flames. He looked on in horror as his cut abs steadily smoothed out and his toned pecs slowly flattened, but it was the sight of his precious dick dwindling before his very eyes that really had him in tears. "No... no no no... stop..." He sobbed as he pulled futilely at his receding cock as if trying to stretch it back to its former size.

His dick continued to get shorter with each passing moment and thinner by the second. It quickly dipped beneath the five inch mark and then the four inch mark. His dick was suddenly as long as his brother's, but whereas Seth's had the thickness of a roll of quarters, Brandon's was more like a stack of dimes. It didn't stop there, though. Down and down it went. It dipped below the three inch mark making it shorter than a tube of chapstick but far skinnier. It didn't stop there, though. His dick continued to dwindle until it dipped below the two inch mark making it as long as a AAA battery but closer in width to a pipe cleaner. By the time his shrinkage had stopped, his nuts which had been the size of large grapefruits had been reduced to tiny orbs the size of plain M&Ms.

Brandon sobbed silently as he continued to tug at his dick as if trying to coax some small amount of growth out of it. He was beyond done for. He now had the smallest dick in school, and his muscles were a thing of the past. Where once were thick, rippling abs he now had only vague traces of soft bumps across his tummy. Where once he had huge, meaty pecs that hung over several inches, Brandon now had a flat, boyish chest that only had the most miniscule traces of muscle to him. His once bulging bicep which would rival even a soccer ball for thickness was now a narrow strap of sinew that barely even rose when he flexed. His once tree trunk thick quads were now scrawny little chicken legs.

Brandon slumped down to his knees. His life as he knew it was over. How could he ever hope to be anything other than a laughing stock now? There's no way he could ever set foot in a locker room now, let alone play on the team. Brandon had no other option but to admit defeat.

Before Brandon could slip too far into self-pity, Sarah reached down and yanked him back up to his feet. Brandon gasped in shock, but he could not manage to piece together a coherent enough thought to form words. It wasn't until he heard Sarah speak that he began to realize what was happening. "Left pocket like always. You know what to do." Sarah told Seth.

Brandon's blood ran cold. He had given that same order many times before. He thrashed and fought as hard as he could to escape, but he simply did not have the strength to even overpower his sister. Slim, slender Sarah could easily outmuscle the once hulking Brandon. It was the ultimate insult to the ultimate injury. Macho man Brandon was now weaker than a puny little girl, but further insults were on their way.

Seth was trying to mask his smile but failing miserably. A devious smirk kept playing at the corners of his lips as he stroked his steadily boning cock. By the time Seth was standing directly before his weakened brother, Seth's dick was standing at full attention. Seth slowly and laboriously lined the tape measure up with his cock to show Brandon that it stood up to a full four inches. Brandon didn't want to look, but it was like a train wreck that he just couldn't look away from. He could see the marks on the ruler as clear as ever despite the tears that blurred his vision.

Brandon then felt a strange rush through his nethers. His cock was tingling. It felt warm and strangely pleasant. He was so ashamed he wanted to puke, but his dick was actually reacting favorably to his situation. In a matter of moments it was fully boned and eagerly awaiting it's ruling.

Seth lined up the ruled against Brandon tiny dick. Brandon felt his heart sink and a pit open up in his stomach as he saw how much skinnier his little dick was compared to the ruler. There was once a time when his cock was easily three times wider than the strap of fabric, but now he would be lucky if his dick was a third of the width. He didn't want to look as Seth read off the final tally, but he couldn't pull his eyes away. Seth looked up at him and sneered. The sheer look of malice and spite in his older brother's eyes made Brandon's heart stop dead in its tracks. The pain and suffering of a lifetime of abuse were reflected in those cold, icy, crystal blue eyes.

"One..." Seth read slowly. "And... Heh. Not even two inches. Maybe an inch and three quarters. I guess Sarah was right. You really aren't even half the man that I am." Seth announced with a sinister chuckle. There was not a single drop of sympathy in Seth's voice. All Brandon could hear was the hatred that years of abuse had bred.

Brandon thrashed again and tried to escape. To his surprise Sarah released him causing the once swole teen to stumble forward and splay out across the carpet. Brandon couldn't think of anything other than getting as far away as he could. He quickly got up and bolted up the stairs and locked himself in his room. Tears were streaming down his face as he sobbed noisily. He spent the rest of the night screaming and railing against his fate, but no amount of shouting would ever bring back his muscles, or his cock, or his status. He was doomed to be a mini-dicked dweeb for the rest of his miserable life.

Brandon didn't even remember passing out, but he must have. The next thing he remembered was the light streaming through his window. He got up unsteadily and looked over himself in the mirror. His heart sunk as he saw that it was no dream. His dick really was that tiny, and he really was that scrawny. He wanted to crawl back in bed and hide away from the world forever, but he was suddenly interrupted by the sound of his door opening. He knew he had locked it behind him, but there were plenty of keys in the house.

Sarah walked in and tossed a stack of clothes on the floor in front of him. "Get dressed." She said flatly. "You're going to school today."

Brandon wanted to argue, but he knew it was pointless. He had neither the strength nor the will to defy her now. He picked up the shirt, and what he saw made his stomach churn. It was his favorite T-shirt, but it had been defiled by his brother's malicious scrawl. The last word of the "Ask Me About My Footlong" slogan that he once wore so proudly had been crossed out and above it "Inch-long" had been added. Brandon screamed in rage and pulled at the neckline in an effort to rip the offending garment in half. He pulled and struggled with all his might, but all he succeeded in doing was stretching and warping the neckline. There was once a time when he could shred t-shirts with a simple flex of his beefy biceps and massive pecs, but now the best he could hope for was to stretch the fabric. He let out another primal scream and threw the shirt against the wall.

He quickly dug through his closet to find something else to wear. All of his shirts were ridiculously loose on him. Even when he was in third grade he was bigger and more muscular than he was now. After a while he had finally gathered together a viable outfit to wear. His shirt hung awkwardly on his scrawny frame, and his jeans barely stayed up on his skinny legs. The only articles that seemed to still be wearable were his trusty black cowboy boots. With enough lacing they stayed on well enough and even granted him a few extra inches. Those few inches meant a lot to him now that he was so weak and puny. He just had to hope it'd be enough to keep people off his back.

It didn't take long for trouble to find him though. Almost the second he entered the school he heard the murmurs and giggles. No one could believe that that scraggly looking geek was once the feared bully that had terrorized nerds and jocks alike. As Brandon made the walk of shame down the center of the hallway he heard the jeers and mocking catcalls tossed at him as well as felt the bundles of scrap paper and spitballs that were lobbed his way.

He didn't think matters could get any worse, but he was dead wrong. Suddenly a tall figure stepped directly in his way. Brandon was so shocked that he staggered backwards. "You actually showed up... I'm impressed." Donovan said mockingly. Brandon looked up at the team captain's purple, welted face and felt the despair well up inside of him. He saw no sympathy and compassion there; he merely saw the manic glee of someone who was about to enact the perfect revenge.

Brandon wanted to put on a brave face and show that he was still a tough guy, but he couldn't summon the courage. He knew Donovan outclassed him in every way, and he could tell by the malicious glint in Donovan's eye that the entire school would soon know it too.

Brandon felt the terror build up anew as he felt a familiar sensation course through his body. "No... no no no no no..." He screamed as he pawed at his chest frantically. He could feel what little remained of his muscles melting away. The pulsing sensation traveled lower and settled into his crotch. Brandon shoved a hand down his pants in an effort to grip his cock and stop what little of it he had left from receding into his body.

Brandon was suddenly taken off balance when he felt an intense gust of wind crash into him. It felt like the wind itself was made of razor blades. The slicing gale quickly shredded his clothing from his frame. He stared on in horror as his clothes fell away in a hail of tiny scraps of confetti. In a matter of seconds Brandon was left sprawled out on the cold tile clad in nothing but his prized boots.

Brandon felt like a black hole had opened up in his stomach as he stared up and up at the towering senior. From Brandon's position on the floor, Donovan looked impossibly tall. Donovan was like a malevolent god that had come down from Olympus to smite the puny mortal for his hubris. An eerie hush fell over the hallway as everybody stopped to stare at the fallen bully. Finally a soft chuckle split the silence. Once one person started laughing the entire hallway erupted into a cacophony of taunts and jeers. Everyone was gathered around to point and stare and laugh at Brandon's downfall.

"God. Does he even have a dick?" One person asked.

"I don't know. It's so small does it even count?" replied another.

"Holy shit! My hamster is better hung than that!" A girl shouted between her raucous guffaws.

Brandon's senses were overloaded by the flashes and clicks and snaps of various cameras that had been pulled out and trained on his reduced cock. There was no way he was going to hide it now. His tiny dick was going to be all over the net in a matter of minutes. Instagram was going to be bombarded with image after image of what little was left of his pathetic little dicklet.

Brandon suddenly felt someone tugging at his feet. He looked down to see Donovan pull his prized boots off with the greatest of ease. Brandon's slim, slender legs were no longer thick enough for the boots to grip properly. In a matter of seconds, the basketball star was standing above Brandon with the disgraced teen's prized boots held mockingly above him.

"These look a little too big for a small fry like you." Donovan said. The malice and disdain in his voice made Brandon shudder. Tears were already streaming down Brandon's face, but what happened next really made him sob. Donovan held out his hand and one of the other players handed him a large, shiny pair of scissors. Donovan stared straight at Brandon and sneered as he slowly and laboriously snipped the boots into small ribbons.

Brandon crawled on his hands and knees to where the tiny scraps of his prized boots were collecting on the ground. It was too much. Not only had he lost his muscles and his dick, but now his height had been taken from him as well. Every source of strength he once had had been reduced to tatters before him. He picked up handfuls of black leather and held them to his face as he silently sobbed. He felt like he could die right then and there, but Donovan wasn't done with him nor was anyone else.

Donovan grabbed Brandon by the arms and pulled the slight, dainty teen to his feet. Now that Brandon was standing everyone could see how much smaller he really was compared to the towering basketball captain. Brandon didn't even reach up to Donovan's chest. Without his thick soled boots, Donovan had a solid two feet of height on the petite blond.

"Isn't this what you always wanted?" Donovan growled viciously. "I know how much you loooove being naked. Don't you love it when everybody stares at your cock? You've never been one to hide it before. Come on. You're on camera. Give your audience a smile."

Brandon tried his best to force a smile, but it just came out as a pained grimace. Donovan controlled Brandon's arms as if he was positioning a marionette. He brought Brandon's dainty arm up towards the blonde's face. "Come on. Say cheese." Donovan growled mockingly. Brandon couldn't bring himself to resist. He extended his middle and pointer fingers weakly and flashed a weak and pathetic looking peace sign for the camera.

The entire hallway erupted into laughter all over again. People fought each other for a chance to get up close enough to film the humiliated former bully. Brandon wanted to run far far away, but there was nowhere he could go. All he could do was stand there and sob as he was paraded around for everyone to stare and laugh at.

The crowd parted as a girl walked to the front. Brandon recognized her immediately. Without his boots Brandon now stood eye level with her impressive rack. He couldn't even bring himself to look up and face her.

"Eyes up here." She said flatly. Brandon slowly forced his gaze upward. The pitiless glare of the volleyball star looked down upon him. Brandon wanted to shrink away into nothing. He knew that look in her eyes perfectly. He had used it so many times before on those he thought were weak and pathetic. He was so far beneath her that he may as well have not even existed in her eyes.

"As if you really had a chance." Donovan whispered venomously. Brandon recognized those words instantly. He had used the same phrase to crush Donovan only a few short days ago, and now they were being thrown back in his face. Brandon was already too destroyed to resist. He slumped down in defeat as the captain effortlessly held him up like a rag doll.

Another person strode his way up to the front of the crowd. The entire hallway went deathly silence with arrival of the newcomer. Brandon finally worked up the nerve to look up. His jaw went slack and his mouth hung open as he stared at his older brother. He hoped and pleaded against all hope that Seth was there to save him. Brandon prayed that some fraternal bond still existed between them, but as Seth fished awkwardly around in his pockets Brandon's hopes came crashing down. Seth reached out and held a small, familiar looking rolled tape measure. The taller brother flashed a nervous, furtive grin as he silently nodded for the towering athlete to take and use the ruler.

A devious, malicious sneer crossed Donovan's face that would even put Brandon's most malicious glares to shame. The basketball star brusquely shoved the petit teen forward as he took the tape measurer. Brandon was sent toppling forward into his brother's outstretched arms. For a brief second Brandon thought that maybe Seth would save him after all, but his hope soon dimmed. Brandon's brother grabbed his dainty wrists and twisted the small teen's arms behind his back. Brandon was left groaning and writhing with pain as he sobbed from humiliation. Seth made no effort to ease up despite Brandon's cries of pain.

"Let's see how big of a man you really are." Donovan hissed venomously. Brandon tried to writhe and pull free, but he was nowhere near strong enough to even budge his brother.

Brandon felt another rush of warmth hit his dick. At first he thought he was in for yet another reduction. He almost screamed in terror at the mere thought of it, but what happened next was almost worse. His dick was hardening in spite of his own shame and humiliation. It felt like someone was rubbing his miniature little dick. Brandon's eyes frantically darted around the crowd until he caught sight of Sarah leaning against the lockers on the far wall. She was rubbing her thumb and forefinger together as if she was playing the world's smallest record player to play the song of his demise. Brandon understood instantly. She was using her magic to effectively jack him off. His dick was now so tiny that it was completely eclipsed under her slender, feminine fingers.

Brandon struggled with all his might not to cum. The last thing he needed was for these people to think he actually liked the shame and humiliation that was visited upon him, but he was fighting a losing battle. His dick continued to shudder and twitch from the constant stimulation. Donovan picked up on this instantly and growled, "Could it be you are actually enjoying this?" Once again Donovan had thrown the bully's own taunts back in his face. It was too much for Brandon to take.

Brandon let out a soft moan as he reached his limit. His dick sputtered and lurched. He was sure that he was going to cream himself in front of a live studio audience, but the truth was far, far worse. Try as he might, he could not cum. His dick lurched in futility for his now miniscule nuts were simply not large enough to produce even the smallest droplet of jizz between them. Brandon could feel his soul getting crushed even further. Just a few days ago he could drench someone's entire face and chest in a torrent of spunk, but now he couldn't manage the most meager of droplets.

Despite having just shot his invisible load, Brandon was still rock hard which was just perfect for Donovan. The captain kneeled down next to the former stud and place the ruler right alongside Brandon's dick. The crowd surged in closer to get even better footage of the final tally. Some of the more ambitious students had gone to get their HD cameras from their cars and lockers and now Brandon's miniature little dicklet was being sized up in vivid High Definition.

Brandon's heart was beating so fast it was like his own body was giving him a drum roll for his ultimate humiliation. He clenched his eyes shut tight as he tried to drown out the final verdict, but he had no way to block his ears. His whole body tensed up as Donovan read the ruling.

"... Half an inch... well, little more maybe, but not by much." Donovan announced triumphantly. Brandon's gut lurched at the news. He felt like he was going to vomit. He doubled over as he felt the puke build up in his throat, but instead of spewing, a guttural wail of despair and shame erupted from his throat. His eyes flew open and he stared in shock at his own miniscule little dick. This was his first time seeing it since it had shrunk again, and it was every bit as tiny as Donovan had claimed. The fleshy digit was so tiny it was like the spike on a pushpin. His balls were as small as grains of salt.

Brandon couldn't fight it any more. He broke down and sobbed bitterly as Donovan picked him up and paraded him up and down the corridors. Everywhere they went students were lined up to film the bully's ultimate downfall. It was the longest day of Brandon's life to date, but it was merely the beginning. His punishment didn't end there. There was no cure. There was no counterspell. He was stuck living out the rest of his days as a weak, micro-dicked disgrace. No matter how hard he tried he could not put on muscle mass, and no matter what he tried he could not get his dick to grow any more.

His high school career was effectively over from that point. No longer would he control the halls and the locker rooms. He was now the puniest, smallest, weakest guy around and had a lifetime's worth of resentment from the entire student body aimed at him. He was now the prime target not just for the jocks and bullies but for the nerds, geeks, and dweebs as well. Not a day went by where he didn't end up with his pants around his ankles and his micro-cock displayed for someone's filming pleasure. He couldn't even count the number of times he had been pulled into the locker room to have his tiny dicklet measure out loud for the entire team. Then the entire team would hold their cocks up to his and compare sizes. The pageant started from smallest to largest. Donovan actually came to relish his size because it meant he got to be first in line to compare cocks with the fallen bully. With each new and larger dick that was placed up against his, Brandon felt the despair and shame well up inside of him. By the time David's ten inches were pressed against his own, Brandon's spirit was broken anew.

Life at home wasn't much better. Sarah and Seth now enjoyed finding new outfits for Brandon to wear to school. Brandon's dainty frame made it so guy's clothes no longer fit him. Instead he had been reduced to wearing clothes designed for pre-teen girls. His shirts were various shades of purples and pinks, and his jeans were all short cropped or capris. The outfits only served to accentuate his slender, petite frame.

If that was all the outfits did, Brandon could have dealt with it, but Seth had let his artistic talents show in making alterations to the designs on Brandon's shirts. Seth's favorite shirt for Brandon to wear featured a white, cartoon Pegasus with a small horn on its head. "My Little Unicorn!" The shirt said... at least it did before Seth's little edits. A few scrawls later there was a ruler next to the unicorn's horn. The horn didn't even measure a full inch on the scale. Above the logo the word's "Ask me about." Was tacked on. Now Brandon's shirt, the shirt that his siblings saw fit to have him wear almost every day of the week read, "Ask Me About My Little Unicorn!" There was a small scrawl off to the side that added further insult to injury. "Not even one inch." The mocking note said.