Dear diary:
Well, it’s been six months since I last checked in. Whatever was causing this shrinking seems to have petered out. I had one more shrink spurt and some very slow shrinking but I’ve been the same size now for four months and the doctors think I’ve managed to fight off whatever it was.
I had hoped to stay above four feet tall, but I ended up at three feet, ten and a half inches tall. I’m still quite muscular, and I weigh 73 pounds. I’m also pretty impressively hairy.
Clothing is still an issue; children’s clothes don’t fit because most children are quite lean and also there’s no room in the crotch for adult equipment; husky fit doesn’t work because I’m not fat, just muscular; even clothing designed for adults with dwarfism won’t fit, because most dwarfs have achondroplasia and have shorter arms and legs and a longer torso than I do. I joke with people that I have size 13 feet, which I do… they’re size 13C and I’m firmly in little-kid land. Fortunately, there are a lot of parents down here who want their kids to be fashion plates so I can get decent shoes.
I’m still dancing at Lips. Sometimes with Chase, and sometimes with a new guy whose name is Ruben, but who is about the size I used to be, maybe even a little taller. (He says he’s seven feet. Uh huh.) We get a lot of tips, especially on fetish night. Because k come up to Ruben’s waist, there’s a lot of suggestive dancing that makes it look like I’m giving him a standing blowie. Drives the kink crowd wild.
To supplement my income, I started working construction again, for a floor guy. Flooring doesn’t weigh that much other than carpet, and because I’m proportionally built, I can kneel and bend easily and I’m much closer for doing things like trim, finish work, and baseboards. We also do crown molding, and so sometimes I get hoisted up onto someone’s shoulders if we don’t have enough ladders. I’ve had to get used to the fact that people can manhandle me. I still object, but there’s only so much I can do; I can’t take on a 6’5” blue collar worker anymore. But I look the part, just in miniature. Ariat makes steel toe work boots in kids’ sizes, and I wear Wrangler boys’ jeans. Matt, the owner, even had t-shirts made in my size.
Life is pretty good, but occasionally a reminder will come of what happened to me. I was in a restaurant the other day, and I couldn’t see over the table. I ate on my knees. When k went to the bathroom, I was accosted by a ten-year-old who was probably nine or ten inches taller. “Whoa. You’re the size of my kid brother. But you have hair everywhere. Weird.”
Or the time I had forgotten to do laundry (which is a real pain when you’re not as tall as the machine) and dug out the clothes Chase bought me that day I had to switch to the kids’ section. They were far too big, meant for someone a foot taller and 5 shoe sizes bigger, and I looked ridiculous, but I hitched them up as best I could and waited for my size 6 and size 8 clothes to be done.
I kept one set of my former clothes from when I was a big man. If I angle right, I can get both feet in one of my old size 18 Nike shoes. I’m only slightly taller than the waist size of my jeans. And even as yoked as I am, the shirt’s neck hole still lets my shoulders through. The hat covers my head like a knight’s visor, because my head is a little more than half the circumference it was.
Speaking of Chase, it turned out that the erotic play-acting we do during our turns on the dance floor at Lips wasn’t just play-acting. We started dating not long after. Sex is a challenge because even though he is two and a half feet taller than me, he’s a bottom. It makes things quite… acrobatic. Though I can take his whole dick which I’m proud of. Ruben and I hooked up once but it wasn’t a great match. I did give him the actual standing BJ, though.