The Tuesday following Eric's soccer game marked a full week since the permanent choice had been made. As nervewracking as the start had been to face, and how his prior diligence in disguising himself occasionally was now basically a constant, Ethan found himself adjusting to it with more eagerness than he expected. Lucas being so into the choice helped a lot, and although it embarrassed him more than he could put into words, Ethan greatly enjoyed and even craved every sexual encounter -- and Lucas indulged him OFTEN.
It had only been a few days, but on several occasions when they were alone, including at school, his boyfriend was active in proving that the attraction was very much real. Ethan would receive multiple blowjobs in a single session -- though 'blowjob' was perhaps a generous term, as it took very little actual sucking to do it -- and every single one felt incredibly intense. He would never last more than a few seconds even with the most Herculean concentration, and the orgasms were fantastic. It took moments to recharge and then he could cum again soon, just like a younger boy who was on the cusp of puberty. Even better, he hardly produced anything at all, so it wasn't like there was ever any mess.
In short, Ethan loved the humiliating sensitivity and immaturity of his new condition, to the point that his little penis would involuntarily harden when Lucas was nearby or sometimes just even visible. As weird and kinky as he knew it was, he didn't want it to stop happening, and secretly looked forward to every uncontrollable juvenile stiffy merely from the most basic eye contact.
However, on that same Tuesday, Ethan also had his first challenge to face. He needed to get a physical done by a doctor, for the swim team. It was yearly from a certain age, though the requirement could be skipped if the right qualifications had been met. Due to a clerical error, he was incorrectly tagged as needing to get it done, though the coach told him it was a good idea anyhow, and Ethan didn't have a problem with it, because he was in great health and knew he would pass.
There was a minor problem though, in the form of the essence transfer.
He wasn't going to attend with his new change on display, so naturally he had to figure out how the original 'simple trade' -- the basic swaps he and Eric had previously done -- would work with the permanent parts.
On the Sunday before the appointment, he had read over the rules again, just to familiarise himself. The most pertinent bit was the fourth clause:
IV -- Future simple trades will remain possible; however, an essence transfer shall alter the native forms of the pair, rendering any such simple trade of the same part temporary.
So, if he was to borrow Eric's cock for the duration of doctor's visit, the question was ... how long was temporary, and what happened after that time was up?
With Eric's agreement and assistance, they did some testing on Sunday and Monday, and the answer seemed clear. They swapped crotches four times and noted the duration of each. Results were 1h 36m, 1h 52m, 1h 47m, and lastly 1h 39m. At the end of each test, there was a sharp tingling just before the swap abruptly and rapidly reversed itself, the parts returning to their owners near instantly. The reversal was faster and snappier than any other trade, almost like the body couldn't take being separated from what was rightful property any longer and HAD to immediately pull it back into place.
The conclusions were obvious; the permanently swapped parts would stay in place for somewhere between 90 minutes and two hours, before reverting at some point in that frame.
For Ethan, that was all the information needed, so when the Tuesday appointment arrived, he had Eric swap them a couple of minutes before he left home, and then he was out the door and into his car.
It would take probably only 45 minutes to get the visit done, travel included -- and Ethan was unconcerned about it, his mind dwelling on unfinished schoolwork and how he'd missed Eric's Saturday game. So unconcerned that the traffic and roadwork delays along his route didn't faze him at all. He was running late when he arrived, and then his appointment was delayed in turn due to the practitioner being behind on the patient list anyhow. It was approaching five minutes past an hour when he finally got into the office and was greeted by the nurse.
It was fine! He had at LEAST another twenty-five minutes to go, and he knew everything would be finished before that.
"You must be Ethan, right this way please." The nurse beckoned. She was a pretty brunette, and must have still been in university as some sort of intern, as she looked to be not more than her early twenties.
She scanned her clipboard as the pair walked down the hallway. "So, you're involved in a sport?"
"Oh, uh, yeah. What gave it away?"
"It's right in your file, though I think any girl with eyes can see that." She chuckled. "Mind if I ask which sport exactly? Oh actually, let me take a guess. Hmm, football running back? You seem like a guy who could really rock those shoulder pads."
It was blatantly obvious to Ethan that she was interested in him, with the flirtatious edge to her small talk. Polite as always, he matched the tone, but that it was it. Though he had to be careful not to play into it too much, as he didn't want to give her the wrong idea.
"Sorry to disappoint but I'm just on the swim team. I'm afraid my uniform isn't quite as showy as a football player." Ethan laughed. It had been a while since he had a chill conversation that wasn't involving magic or serious foreplay.
"Oh, now there's an image," the nurse nodded appreciatively. "A sports physical this time of year is kinda uncommon. Must be a big deal that you're here right now! I take it you're the team's star performer?"
"Hah. I appreciate the compliment but I don't think I'm anything particularly special. It's a team effort, like most sports."
The nurse clicked her tongue. "Cute and humble. Aren't you just the full package?"
Before he could respond, she handed him a medical gown, and with a smile instructed him to go behind a curtain and put it on. She asked a few more questions and he tried his best to keep replying while he fiddled with the gown behind the curtains.
When he emerged, she let out a low whistle. Ethan put on a show and did a quick little flex of his right arm. He wasn't wearing anything underneath the gown and he knew the sight of his exposed bicep was having an effect. A part of him wished Lucas could see this moment, imagining his boyfriend would get a kick out of seeing him like this.
The next thing the nurse asked was for him to lift his both arms to the ceiling to measure his vertical reach and flexibility.
Except, the moment he began to raise them, several things happened nearly at once.
The string securing the gown at the back came free and unraveled, as he had tied it really badly.
The gown itself, being somewhat loose and light, simply slid forward off his body to the floor.
At the same time, there was an acute tingling in his crotch, and with a surprising forcefulness it snapped from Eric's borrowed monster right back to his own tiny package in a single instant.
There had been multiple close calls in the past, but he had never actually been caught by anyone outside of those that already knew. Now, for the first time, a stranger was seeing him for who he was.
Rooted to the spot, Ethan was speechless. Physically and mentally frozen by what was happening in both disbelief and fear, his eyes wide as he tried to recapture his composure, he couldn't move a muscle. The nurse looked just as shocked, the flirty rapport completely gone, and she didn't react for a moment, then scribbled quickly on the clipboard.
"It's fine! You're ... fine. I just wasn't, uh, expecting you to be so ... short -- I mean, the doctor will be in shortly. Actually, I'll get him right now."
Then she was out the door into the adjoining room, leaving Ethan alone, and he could only look down at himself, stunned.
Why had the swap reverted SO early?!
It was another twenty minutes, minimum, before anything was meant to happen!
He didn't have a chance to collect his wits before the door opened seconds later, and the nurse was back with the doctor. An attractive well-built 30-something, he did a double take when he laid eyes on the patient. There was no laughter, the man clearly a professional, but instead there was a subtle sort of smirk, like a half-smile, which was somehow even worse to Ethan. Then he crossed the room and crouched down to get a closer look. No touching, but about two feet away at crotch height, just staring.
Ethan had never felt so vulnerable, so mortified and exposed, for being revealed for who he was.
The doctor stood, and he nodded to the discarded clothing lying on the hospital bed. "You should cover up, unless you want somebody else to walk in."
His limbs wooden, his mind still in disbelief that his fear of being revealed had finally happened, Ethan redressed himself. The moment he was done, the doctor began speaking again.
"Mr Morales, I don't think a regular physical is necessary given that you are -- mostly -- in appropriate condition for someone your age. Instead, I would like to offer you the opportunity to participate in a research project. You would, of course, be paid for your time. The subject is reproductive maturity in males aged thirteen to eighteen, and we need abnormally underdeveloped teenage boys like yourself for our study's veracity."
Abnormally underdeveloped? The words weren't meant to be cruel, just clinically accurate, but to Ethan the truth was more cutting than he was prepared for.
"The data we take will be used along with that from other boys in the age range for both case studies and contribution to our statistical model. You would be tested individually for confidentiality purposes, in full compliance with the law. I strongly encourage you to accept, as we value outliers, such as those of your ... attributes."
Ethan knew what all this amounted to: the second they saw how small he was, they wanted to study him.
It was simultaneously both humiliating and flattering, but more than that, the idea of making money was a big draw.
"Uh, h-how much would I get paid?" He managed to find his voice.
"Our secretary will tell you the exact number, but it is on the higher side of three figures."
A higher three figure amount? While his family wasn't wealthy like Haylee's, or even just well-off middle-class like Lucas, Ethan's father did provide enough for them to live comfortably. Still, earning more than five hundred dollars in one go was a lot of money to Ethan, but then another thought occurred to him.
"You said it was boys thirteen to eighteen? Because, um, my younger brother is ... like me, only he's eleven."
"Like you?"
"Yeah, but he's abnormally ... overdeveloped?"
Ethan was sure the doctor was going to flatly refuse because Eric was too young, but instead he simply smiled coolly, his eyes narrowing, and he nodded.
"Very well. If what you say is true, he can be included as a person of interest in your case study, as his condition may have genetic relevance to yours. Come back this Thursday afternoon via the research wing's entry, bring your little brother, and I will see you are admitted in and paid double for your participation." He reached out a hand, and Ethan tentatively shook it in agreement, the doctor giving that same vaguely amused partial-smile, that held undertones of passive-aggressive mockery to it. "Excellent. We'll see you then."
--------------------
It took no convincing at all for Eric to agree after Ethan told him what had happened. A basic plan was formulated too, about what to say. They couldn't mention the ring, of course, and would just have to creatively answer questions as if they had always been this way. Ethan made sure that Eric understood to give realistic responses and not embellish too much.
The other thing that had Ethan concerned was why he had reverted earlier anyhow. Deciding that it needed further investigation, they did another four tests, and the results were different this time around; 1h 40m, 1h 17m, 1h 22m, and finally 1h 29m.
With this came the realisation that the window for the swap automatically reverting was ACTUALLY between one and two hours, and NOT between 90 minutes and two hours as originally believed. The first four tests had just been, by pure chance, on the later half of the spectrum, giving a false impression of the threshold.
Whether this was due to bad luck or if Janus was messing with them, Ethan wasn't sure.
Perhaps this god was the Roman equivalent of Loki, playing the trickster and setting the unwary up for unpredictable and unusual results if they decided to roll the dice and take a chance?
Nonetheless, the Morales brothers arrived and entered the research wing as directed, and were admitted into the lab section. The same man from Ethan’s appointment greeted them, identifying himself as Dr Ellicott, and after quickly getting through the legal formalities -- something Ethan had been expressly permitted to do by his father for both himself and Eric -- they were introduced to the researchers working under Ellicott. All four were younger graduate med students and subordinate juniors relative to Ellicott himself. Two escorted Eric away to the other half of the sizable room, though deliberately keeping him within view and earshot of Ethan at all times, for the sake of eliminating liability risk and protecting those concerned.
Ethan knew that Eric understood the boundaries of what was appropriate and what wasn't, and considering how carefully Ellicott was conducting everything, he didn't feel uncomfortable for those reasons.
Instead, Ethan's discomfort was of the much more intensely psychological type, and solely to do with his own situation.
The two researchers assigned to him were only made known by their surnames; Harding and Fulton. They both seemed polite, but also direct and somewhat detached, like scientists with a test subject. The first thing asked of him was to disrobe, and then stand with his arms at his sides.
Though the lab was comfortably climate controlled and temperate, Ethan felt exposed and vulnerable. The second time being fully seen by strangers was hardly any better than the first, and he had to fight his instincts to cup his hands over his groin and hide the shame.
"Huh." That was all Harding said as he approached with a digital camera from the myriad of equipment and machinery strewn across the lab benches and desks.
"No pubic follicles present," remarked Fulton.
"Not a wisp," agreed Harding. With that, he began to take pictures of Ethan's crotch. First from a near vertical high angle, left to right. Then from a more modest elevation, left to right again. Then level. Then a lower angle. Then almost directly beneath.
All Ethan could hear was the faint audio of a shutter-snap playing every time the camera took a picture, a sound that could easily be disabled but wasn't. It seemed to go on and on and on, and all he could do was stand there and listen as Harding took image after image until it was done.
While Harding went away to another workstation to transfer the photos, Ellicott returned from Eric's side of the room to assist Fulton with the next step. The doctor was bouncing back and forth between the two parallel observations, overseeing Eric's at the same time as Ethan's. Ellicott instructed Ethan to step inside a large metal device that resembled the wireframe outline of a shower cubicle, and to hold his hands in the air and stand still. Once Ethan was in place, Fulton activated a scanner device attached to the top of the frame, from the nearby computer. The scanner slid down the frame until just above Ethan's bellybutton. There, it slowed, and optical emitters from all four sides started projecting a line of red light horizontally onto his skin. The scanner descended, the light following the shape of his body as it went.
It stopped midway down his thighs, paused a moment, then reversed direction, scanning up again to the same place on his midriff, before the emitters shut off. Then the scanner slid all the way back up the frame with a soft whirr, ending at the top where it had started.
"Accurate pass on the contours. I'll send this to the printer," Fulton exclaimed.
Printer? Ethan didn't understand what this was about.
"Good." Ellicott said nothing else, gave a nod, and was back across to Eric's side, just as Harding returned.
Ethan had barely stepped out of the scanner, and Fulton was handing Harding medical gloves, while pulling on a pair himself. "Now, we need to do a physical examination, so we will have to touch you. Please stand with your arms at your sides, as still as you can."
Obeying the directive, Ethan did as asked, and the two researchers crouched in front of him. With care, they began to feel around his groin. At first just touching the skin above and to the sides, but then they became more direct. Very lightly gripping his shaft, Harding stretched it out, placing a measuring tape next to it as he did so. At the same time, Fulton's fingers were feeling his balls. As sensitive as Ethan was to touch, the experience was nothing like the pleasurable intimacy with Lucas. Instead he felt a humiliation and a degradation unlike anything before it. He was trying his best to control his breathing and his reactions, so they didn't know how completely emasculated he was.
Every little press of their fingers was super apparent to him. Glancing down, Ethan could see them squeezing and manipulating his tiny bits, feeling the shape and size of him. He could tell from the most brief glimpses that they were fascinated by his state, and then they began to talk. Not TO him, but ABOUT him -- it was a conversation in medical jargon held as if he was not there, and Ethan did not understand it beyond a few basic terms. Their back and forth went on for roughly a minute, and the entire time he felt more like a test subject curiosity than an actual person.
"That's what I am," he thought, as he covertly watched them, "a medical curiosity. A seventeen year old with a juvenile cock not much more than one inch long."
One inch. That number kept coming back to him for some reason.
Why was that?
"Printing is done." Ellicott was returning, and the two researchers stopped their examination and stood, removing their gloves in tandem. Behind him, the doctor was wheeling a 3D-printed model on a little gurney, based upon the optical scanner's results. It was a cross section running from mid-waist to thighs, and a detailed representation of his lower body centred on his crotch. Pulling out a telescoping pointer stick, Ellicott extended it and began to talk to the two researchers, indicating with the pointer to different parts of the model as he spoke. Just like earlier, the language was heavily specialised to do with anatomy and biology and he didn't understand it. Though, he picked up some of what was being said, with the pointer tapping against the 3D-printed buttock and thigh muscles while Ellicott described how properly developed these parts were, and then conversely circling his genitals and pubic area.
Also, again, they were speaking as if he wasn't there at all.
Just a lab specimen, who didn't merit inclusion and was just there to be studied.
Finally done, Ellicott wheeled the model away, but was back again moments later, the turnaround from the impersonal discussion to addressing him directly like some kind of whiplash. "Mr Morales, please put some pants on. You need not continue to be naked for this portion of our research, unless you -- for whatever reason -- specifically prefer it."
Feeling somehow chastised over the fact that, privately, Ethan actually liked the humiliation of public embarrassment, he went to grab his clothing and quickly pulled it back on, before he returned to sit meekly in the second office chair opposite the doctor.
"Now," Ellicott stated, a clipboard in hand, "let me see your results from last week's blood work." He flipped through several pages, glancing at what he saw. "Very curious. Your hormone levels match what we would expect for someone of your age and health, and what would be assumed as your sexual maturity. However, even the most minimal observation has shown that there is a severe lack in that category."
"Uh, yeah." Ethan didn't know what to say, as he had never been put on the spot in such a way in front of an adult that knew his terrible secret.
"So, describe for me your recollections of growing up with such a ... deficiency."
Deficiency? The word felt very mocking, but Ethan's desire to talk about a past he never had won over instead. Drawing on the memories of his psychotic break, he spoke about his fake childhood as if it were real.
"Uh, I was the same as everyone else early on, I think, but I guess I noticed when I was getting to ... nine or ten years old, maybe, that things just stayed the same. Other boys kept growing but, uh, I ... I didn't." There was something very thrilling about referring to this fabrication like a true memory, and a part of him was wishing it actually was. "They started getting like teenagers do, and I was the same, except for- ... except for my ... "
Ethan couldn't finish the sentence, so Ellicott did it for him.
"Except for your penis," the doctor stated, his pen scritching across the paper as he coolly jotted down notes. "Did your inability to grow pubic hair bother you?"
"Y-yeah." Ethan said, pretending that it was a difficult memory, though in truth, his smooth childish crotch felt completely amazing. It was an aspect that excited him as much as his size did. "I wished I was like them. It was hard becoming a teen, because I didn't want the others to see what I looked like. So, uh, I made up for it by doing a lot of sport. I got really good at swimming."
"Mhmm," murmured Ellicott, his eyes narrowing as he evaluated Ethan's responses. "When you gained an interest in girls -- or boys, or both, whichever applies -- how did you deal with that? Being non-functional must present certain issues at high school."
"I- ... I'm a virgin." This was the biggest lie of all, but it was the complete truth for his alter ego. The tiny-dick version of his life would never have experienced sex with another person. How would he have the courage to actually date, and who would be interested once they saw him after he took off his underwear? Thank god he had met Lucas in THIS version of his life, the easygoing sweetheart who was not only hot but one of the most understanding people Ethan had ever met. His mini-cock twitched and stiffened slightly inside his pants at the thought. "But, um, I'm not 'non-functional'. Everything works."
"Really." The cynicism in the doctor's voice was almost palpable. "You are capable of sexual activity?"
"Yeah." Ethan fought to keep the embarrassed tremours out of his voice. "I can have orgasms and cum. All of ... that stuff."
"Hm. Remarkable. Both Fulton and Harding seemed to think, based solely on penile maturation and the orchidometer rating, that you couldn't so much as get an erection, let alone produce ejaculate." He tapped the pen on the paper. "How much do you produce?"
"Uh, b-barely anything." His face felt like it was burning answering the question, telling a doctor how little he could cum. "But something comes out."
"Do you have any issues urinating?"
"No." Ethan mumbled. Apart from the fact that he had a regular sized bladder and a super small cock, so it took forever to finish. "That's ... fine."
Before they could go any further, at almost the same time, one from each of the two sets of researchers -- Ethan's own and Eric's also -- got up from what they were doing, came across, and handed Ellicott a sheaf of printed results. They lingered for a minute while Ellicott glanced over the papers in front of Ethan, the man doing some kind of appraisal in real-time about what he was seeing. He was clearly a brilliant doctor, and after a few more moments, he looked at both the researchers.
"These two are developmentally diametric opposites of where they should be. It seems exactly like someone just snapped their fingers and they swapped genitals. Except that's impossible, as everything is genetically localised, and no surgical alteration has taken place. The younger one is just exceptionally advanced, and the older one, well ... isn't."
"The data supports it," Harding said. The other researcher nodded, not disagreeing.
"Thank you, gentlemen." They nodded in concert and turned away to go back to what they were doing. Ellicott looked back at Ethan. "Our findings are only preliminary, as the details of the study will take some time to be collated and published in the journal. However, I can see here specifically something very unusual and interesting. Your brother's extreme sexual maturation does not seem to be affecting the rest of his body at all, just as your extreme sexual immaturation seems not to be affecting you. You have not lost any muscle mass nor suffered decreased testosterone as a result of your condition, and he has not experienced the reverse of this. It is as if your genitals are causally disconnected, in a biological sense, from the rest of your body. Medically, this is quite astonishing, and I don't know the explanation for it."
To Ethan, this information was oddly informative. It seemed to suggest that his physique wasn't about to suffer from not having the same supply of teenage hormones that a seventeen year old would normally have, with the reverse being true for Eric. The only thought he had about it was that the ring was somehow accounting for their inexplicably unchanged body chemistry through its own magic.
"There's not much else to tell you apart from this." Ellicott nodded, scribbling yet another illegible sentence onto the papers in front of him. "Our admin has your bank details and will credit you the money for your participation. You will receive a physical copy of the journal itself when it is printed in roughly a month's time, if you are curious at all. Other than that, your presence has been useful and we thank you for your time. You are free to go."
"Wait," Ethan managed, wanting clarity on the last point or two raised. "So what you're saying is that this one part of me is kinda frozen from when I was eleven years old."
"Yes." The doctor stated flatly. "That's essentially correct, bizarre as it may sound. Except for one thing. It isn't eleven."
Not eleven? Ethan didn't know what else it could be, as that was Eric's age when they swapped.
"It's actually," he paused, while he flipped to a particular page on the clipboard, to confirm the numbers, "seven. Your genitals are the equivalent of a sexually functional seven year old." With that, Ellicott stood and made direct eye contact with Ethan, his lips curling ever so slightly into a faint smirk that carried with it all the unvoiced ridicule of this scientific fact. Then the doctor nodded curtly in his direction. "Good day, Mr Morales. I have a schedule to keep, so you may see yourself out."
Ethan rose slowly, the words and Ellicott’s expression reverberating through him. Even as Eric came across to rejoin him, all smiles and with a pep in his step from the entire process of being poked and prodded by curious medical researchers, Ethan felt dazed.
The number rang in his head as they walked to the door, Eric's excited chatter ringing in his ears unheard all the way. It was difficult to process but also all too simple.
Not eleven, but seven.
"I actually have the cock of a seven year old," Ethan thought as he walked across the parking lot to his car with Eric, his tiny juvenile penis happily going fully stiff inside his pants at the description of just how childlike it was. "I'm the same as a boy in second grade," he told himself, his smile widening and his face reddening as he unlocked the car door, "and it feels ... AMAZING."