Dear Diary - Chapter 1

[nightbird112]

Dear Diary – Chapter 1

 

I was 13 years old when I decided I hated my father.

 

Sure, all children say that, at one point or another. All children experience disappointment or resent their parents at some time in their lives. But my resentment was different. Mine was born of years of living with, and under the thumb of, my father.

 

My father was a hard man, you see, tough and gnarled as old tree roots. I don’t recall him ever smiling, or not giving me the rough side of his tongue, whether he was shouting or joking. Most men are rough with one another, a roughness that arises from a spirit of camaraderie and brotherhood, but his roughness was that of sandpaper. He never met anyone he didn’t rub the wrong way, and even when trying to be gentle, he would leave raw sores. Not that he beat us, mind you, at least not frequently. Though he had large and strong hands, he never raised them to either me or my mother. His favored weapon was his tongue,and that was sharp as a razor wire. While growing up, his tongue had bought me to tears more often than his fists ever did.

 

He was a rather average man in most respects. Taller than average at 5’11, with a body that was a broad and muscular from a lifetime of construction work, covered with a layer of fat that had begun to sag with age, like all his bitterness pulled it down as it did everyone else around him.

 

But enough about him. This story isn’t about him. At least, not entirely.

 

As far as heroes in stories go, I wasn't anything special; tall than average at a hair under 6 feet, with a body that had never seen the inside of a gym, with the typical skinny fat physique of one who engages in little physical exertion. I didn’t life weights as much as lift books from shelves. I had nicely shaped features - nothing that would earn me a feature in some magazine, of course - but nice enough, albeit covered with a layer of fat that made me look younger than my actual 18 years. Nothing remarkable, nothing that would make the lads swoon. Yes, I am gay, but we will come to that later.

 

All in all, I was far from the ideal of the gridiron high school BMOC, which my father always hated about me, and the fact that I was gay, well, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

 

Hence why I’m sitting here, on a park bench in front of the Public Library, at 2 in the morning. Alone. Abandoned. Forgotten.

 

You see, my father had tossed me out, literally. Banished me from my home. And all while my mother stood there, saying nothing. Doing nothing.

 

And so here I am, with nothing to my name but the clothes on my back, my phone, a few dollars in cash, and my ID. With the sound of his shouting and swearing still ringing in my ears. The judgment and disgust I saw in my mother’s eyes as fresh as the ache in my heart.

Where do I go? What will I do? How will I survive? Those questions and more tumbled around in my head. I honestly have no idea how long I just sat there; I must have fallen asleep at some point, because by the time I came to the sun was up and the library was open. I decided, on a whim, to go inside. Why the hell not, not like I had anything better to do. What books do you read after getting thrown out by your parents? Emancipation For Dummies? 101 Ways To Survive Adolescence On The Streets? I am Homeless, And So Can You!?

 

I was browsing the stacks listlessly when I felt a thud on my foot. I looked down and I saw a little book had fallen down from shelf above. It was black, with a blue ribbon to be used as placeholder. It had no title, strangely enough, and it also had no library reference number or stamp. It seemed to have been forgotten here by someone. Upon opening and leafing though it, I saw that it was completely blank.

 

very Strange. It must be a diary of some sort…

 

Oh well, I was hardly in a position to turn up my nose at free stuff. Sitting at a table, I started to write;

 

Dear Diary,

 

today is the first day of my new gay life (shit it’s hard to do sarcasm while writing) I had come out to my parents yesterday and it went about as well as I expected. Honestly, what was I thinking? I should have waited till I was in college, or even afterwards... I wish I never told them…

 

And barely 5 seconds after that, my phone started ringing. Looking down, I saw that it was… my mom? Holy shit, what could she want from me now?

 

“Hello…?”

“Mike, where'd you been? You dad and I have been worried sick about you. Come home now.”

“But didn’t you kick me out?”

“Kick you out? Why on earth would we do that? Are you drunk?”

“No, no mom... I’m on my way.”

 

holy shit! How did that happen! Could it be…. this book? Well, that’s easy enough to find out.

 

I wish my feet were 2 sizes bigger.

 

I felt this tingling sensation in my feet, and I could feel the bones in my feet shift as they lengthened, and my shoes started pinching me as I outgrew them. After barely 5 seconds, it stopped. I could see my toes bulging out of the tip of my sneakers.

 

Slipping of my shoes, I checked. It was obvious that my feet had grown larger; my socks no longer fit properly, and my feet were obviously longer and wider, and I bet that if I were to get a ruler and measure them, they would be precisely two sizes larger.

 

Flexing my new size 13 feet, I wandered…

 

what else could I change?

[nightbird112]

Hey everyone! I’ve been lurking on this forum and the old one for quite a while, and I decided to submit my first serious story. I hope you enjoy it and of course I welcome any comments, suggestions, or advice.

[GlamRockCowboy]

Your premise is an intriguing one!  I would suggest making the first changes slowly, then gradually ramping up to more dramatic ones, which could plausibly be explained by growth spurts.  Be sure, however, to accompany any muscle changes with changes in the heart, lungs, etc., so that his body can adapt to the changes with no ill effect.  You might also want to consider changes in hairstyle, clothing style(s), etc., to either hide the muscle growth (yes, there are occasions when that is advisable!),  to display the muscle growth, or even to adorn his newly-muscular physique.  A gradual improvement in finances might also prove interesting, as would the development of other talents, such as art, music, etc.  Mind you, these are only suggestions; the final result, of course, is up to you! 

[Ro20316]

I like the idea of writing things and see them happening like he really details what he wants to happen and moment later. There it is. Everything he wrote.

[djinnie]

There was a story on the NCMC called "Pillow Biter" that had the same premise of a diary that could change things.  I loved the growth in it (but not the ending/shrinking) and am looking forward to more!

[flamedelft]

Nice premise, looking forward to seeing more chapters

[klern]

He could change is habits by writing it, like include a lot of hour in gym hehe But that a really good strory for now  I can't wait to see your next chapiters^^

[asianman2410]

On 4/24/2016 at 5:19 PM, djinnie said:

There was a story on the NCMC called "Pillow Biter" that had the same premise of a diary that could change things.  I loved the growth in it (but not the ending/shrinking) and am looking forward to more!

I'm curious to see the story Djinnie. Do you by chance have a link to it? 

[djinnie]

21 hours ago, asianman2410 said:

I'm curious to see the story Djinnie. Do you by chance have a link to it? 

http://www.eroticgayhypnosis.com/contest2004/pillowbiter.htm

I'm not sure how it's still up though.  That site's supposed to be moved.