Once again Piet was awakened by a knock on the door and Art calling. “Time to get up if you’re gonna make the school bus.”
Piet groaned and went into the bathroom, where he had a quick shower before dressing and trotting downstairs. Breakfast was on the table waiting for him.
“The bus will come in half an hour and stop at the corner,” Doug said.
Piet enjoyed a filling breakfast, downed a second cup of coffee, and grabbed his school supplies before hugging his brother and Doug, who had by then become known as Uncle Doug.
He and the bus arrived at the corner simultaneously. Finding an empty seat, he plopped down and stared out the window as the bus moved on. At the next stop, a boy sat on the seat next to him, saying, “Hi, you’re new at the school, aren’t you?”
Piet nodded. He observed that the boy was bigger and more developed than he was, but wasn’t every boy in the eighth grade? He was rather tired of being called ‘shrimp’, but at least this boy didn’t do that.
“Where are you living?”
“At my brother Art’s house. He’s a teacher.”
“Is that Art Wilson, the fifth-grade teacher?”
“Yeah.”
“I had him in fifth grade. He’s a great teacher.”
“I’ll tell him you endorsed him. What’s your name?”
“Luke,” said the boy. “What grade are you in?”
“Eighth. I’m small for my age.”
“You’ll grow,” confided Luke as the bus pulled to a stop in front of the school.
In the building, Piet went to the office to find out about his schedule and locker. He was greeted by a smiling secretary, who said, “Okay, Piet, here’s your class schedule, and your locker number and combination. And here’s a map of the building.”
Piet thanked her and followed the map to the second floor, where he found his locker. He put his jacket in the locker and then sought out his homeroom, which was just a little farther down the hall.
Going in, he handed his admission pass to the teacher who told him to take any vacant seat. He found one near the back, right in front of a boy who was at least six feet tall and well filled out. Piet was again aware of his own small stature.
The teacher introduced him to the class as Piet Wilson, whereupon the boy behind him said, “Huh. I heard on the bus that he’s Art the Faggot’s younger brother. I wonder if he’s queer too.”
“That will be enough, Derek,” said the teacher. “Any more of that and you can cool your heels in Mr. Markham’s office.”
Derek said nothing more, but as the class was dismissed, he just happened to body check Piet into a desk. Bastard, thought Piet.
The rest of the morning was relatively uneventful. Luke was in two of Piet’s classes and, unfortunately, Derek was in three of them.
At lunch time, Luke invited Piet to sit with him at a table of eighth-grade boys. He introduced them to Piet, who then answered the expected questions about where he was from what he liked to do, and if he had a girlfriend. He giggled at the last question, saying, “Nope. Not even close.”
Finishing his lunch, he went in search of a restroom and found one right outside the cafeteria. There was a boy standing outside who muttered something about waiting for his friend.
When Piet entered the restroom, he heard, “Grab him,” and was immediately seized by two boys while Derek confronted him.
“So,” Derek sneered, “are you a faggot like your brother?”
Piet decided the best thing to do was to say nothing. Marcus appeared from nowhere, as he usually did.
“Not gonna talk, huh?” said Derek. “Well, I think you’re a faggot and I want you to give me a blowjob.” He whipped his cock out of his pants. To Piet it seemed huge. It was fat and at least six inches long.
“Bring him over, boys,” said Derek to the other two. When they did, Derek ordered Piet to kneel in front of him. The boys pushed him down until Piet was staring directly at Derek’s cock. Then something odd happened.
As Piet gazed, Derek’s cock began to shrink. Piet heard Marcus’s voice in his head, telling him what to say.
“Hey, that’s a cute trick, Derek,” said Piet. “How do you get that thing to shrink?”
“Huh?” asked his tormentor. He looked down and sure enough, his cock was considerably shorter and thinner.
“What are you doing?” shouted Derek.
“Just watching,” Piet replied.
As the boys watched, Derek’s cock continued to shrink until there was no shaft left. Only the tip of his cock pointed out of his groin.
“How did you do that? Make it grow back, NOW!” shouted Derek.
“I didn’t do it and there’s nothing I can do about it,” replied Piet. “By the way, your balls seem to be shrinking as well.”
Within a few moments, Derek’s balls had vanished entirely inside his body.
Taking his cues from Marcus, Piet said, “Now Derek, if you’re a very good boy, things will start to grow back in about a week. If you stay good, they’ll be completely back within a month. But if you bully anybody in this school ever again, you could lose them permanently. Oh, yes, and you’d probably better sit down to piss for the next few days.”
Then as he stood, he looked at the two boys who had been holding him and said, “I think you’ll find that you have a problem similar to Derek’s, so the same rules apply. Be good boys now, and everything will eventually grow back. Or don’t; your choice!”
Then he brushed past Derek, stood at the urinal, and had a most satisfying piss, moaning happily as he emptied himself. On the way out the door, he said, “Have a great afternoon, boys.”
Out in the hallway, Piet and Marcus burst into hysterics.
“That was priceless, Marcus. I wish I had a photograph of Derek’s expression when he realized what was happening.”
Piet went on to his next class, while Derek and his enablers went to theirs which just happened to be PE.
In the locker room, nobody said anything at first, but it was impossible for the three boys to hide what had happened to them. For once, nobody felt afraid of Derek, and in the showers he was teased by many of the other boys, calling him names like “Dickless”, and “Noballs”.
The coach stood at the door wondering what all the noise was about. Derek tried to brush past him, but the coach stopped him and asked, “What happened to you?”
“Piet assaulted me, sir.”
The coach looked disbelieving but he let Derek go.
The result was that at the beginning of school the following day, Piet was summoned to the assistant principal’s office, where he found Derek and a man he assumed was Derek’s father there ahead of him.
“I think you’d better explain yourself, Wilson,” said Mr. Markham, the assistant principal.
“What do I need to explain?” asked Piet, innocently.
Derek’s father erupted. “This isn’t a game, Wilson! You assaulted my son and you’re going to pay for it.”
“If you’re referring to the incident in the restroom, I didn’t do a thing. I didn’t even touch Derek. Look at him then look at me. Do you truly believe I could do anything which might hurt Derek?”
Of course, Derek hadn’t told his father what had happened. He simply told him that Piet had attacked him.
“You didn’t touch him?” asked the assistant principal.
“No, sir. In fact, I was being held by two of his cohorts.”
“Is that true, Derek?” Mr. Markham asked.
Reluctantly, Derek said, “Yes sir.”
“Derek,” asked Piet maintaining his innocent voice, “did you tell your father what had been going on and why your friends were holding me?”
Derek looked at his father. He knew he was trapped, and he knew that anything he said would probably result in a beating.
“Well?” said his father.
Reluctantly, Derek told what he had ordered Piet to do, although he tried to minimize it.
“I’ve told you before how we feel about bullying here, haven’t I?” asked the assistant principal.
“Yes, sir,” Derek said quietly.
“I’m going to suspend you for the rest of the week. Next week, you’ll have detention every day.”
“But sir, I won’t be able to practice with the football team,” protested the boy.
“Thank you for reminding me,” said Mr. Markham. “You are no longer on the football team.”
Derek’s father grabbed him by the arm and propelled him out of the office and through the front door.
“Wilson, I have no idea if you were responsible for any of this or not, but Derek’s getting what he deserves. Now, I don’t want to see you in my office again. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Piet answered meekly.
Out in the hall, Piet was joined by Marcus, who simply said, “Well played, Piet,” as they walked down the hall and up the stairs to Piet’s first period class.
That night, Piet and Marcus had a great time retelling the story to each other and laughing aloud.
In the morning, when Piet was at the table, Art asked, “Piet, do you talk to yourself a lot?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I heard you talking and laughing last night. It almost sounded like there were two of you.”
“I don’t remember anything. Mom used to say that I talked in my sleep. Maybe that’s what you heard.”
Art shrugged and returned to looking at the morning paper.
At school, all the chatter in the hallways was about Derek being suspended and what supposedly happened to him in the restroom.
Several boys, many of them seventh and sixth graders, spoke to Piet, thanking him for getting Derek punished.
To all of them, he said, “I didn’t do anything.”
Nobody really believed that, and the word was that Piet had some sort of magical powers, sort of like Harry Potter. Everyone wanted to talk with him and sit by him and be at his lunch table. It actually created somewhat of a problem because he was never alone.
However, as time went on, new gossip about other kids arose as it always does in schools, and in time Piet was back to being just Piet.
When Derek returned to the school, it appeared that his following of sycophants had disappeared. For the week that he was in detention he looked positively depressed.
The next week, when he was once again sitting in front of Derek in homeroom, Piet said cheerfully, “Hi,” as though nothing had happened.
Derek said nothing but Piet persisted each time he had the chance. On Friday morning, Derek said at last, “I need to talk with you. Can we have lunch together?”
He was undoubtedly thinking that Piet would turn him down. Instead, Piet said, “Sure.”
So it was that the two of them were seated at a table in the cafeteria, while other boys watched from afar. At first, neither of them said anything. Then at last, Derek said, “I don’t get it. Why are you being nice to me? All my friends have left me. But why you? After all, I tried to make you blow me.”
“I guess it’s because deep down, I think you’re a very unhappy person.”
“You’re right about that.”
Piet paused for a moment before saying, “Look, you need to know something about me. I’m living with Art because I ran away from home. Well really, I ran away from my father.” Piet proceeded to tell Derek about his father and finished by saying, “He’s a bully and he’ll never get any better. That day in the AP’s office, I decided that your father is also a bully. So that’s the role model you have for how to be a man. But Derek, it doesn’t have to be that way. And all those friends you think you had, what about them? Why did they desert you?”
“I don’t know. I can’t figure that out.”
“It’s because they’re not afraid of you anymore. They weren’t real friends. They were afraid of you, and they went along with you so you wouldn’t dump on them.”
Derek thought for a long time before beginning to nod.
“I guess I’ve got a lot to think about,” said Derek. He stood, returned his tray and dishes, and walked out the door.
Piet continued to sit alone until the bell rang.
In the next few days, there seemed to be a change in Derek. Not only did he respond when Piet said, “Hi,” but he began to make friends with some of the other boys, real friends this time.
One evening, Marcus said, “You worked a miracle.”
“Not really,” Piet replied. “Angels work miracles. I just pick up the pieces.”
They both laughed and Marcus returned his attention to Piet’s penis.