There were a few other facts about myself that I came to understand rather immediately too, mostly thanks to having a large number of other similar-aged boys to hang around with for the very first time in my life. I noticed that I was still shorter than most boys in my same grade. I was still growing but it wasn't fast enough to catch up, let alone keep pace. Standing on my toes, I'd have been hard-pressed to squeak out 5' 8" in my freshman year. I also came to understand that I had a very good head on my shoulders and was even smarter than most, comparatively. I just picked things up very easily, especially when it came to math and sciences.

And thanks specifically to the gym locker rooms, I understood two additional facts about my 'physical self', and that happened on the very first day of gym classes. One fact I liked a lot. The other would traumatize me beyond words.

My surprising 'big plus' was that it seemed to me that I already had a much better overall shape to my otherwise very short body than almost any of the other boys in my grade. There were clear and visible signs that I was already filling out. I was starting to develop the very 'wide shoulders and narrow hips' bone structure that was the genetic characteristics of the males in my family. This was only exaggerated more because I was so short anyway. I also was a strong kid - quite a beefy little bulldog actually - from working the farm all my life. There was some meat on my otherwise short bones that narrowed down into a definitely trim waste line. Most of the other freshman were really thin and lanky. Frankly, they looked more like pencils from their shoulders on downward. The shape of my body was different than theirs. Mine was wider at the top and narrower at the bottom, more like the older high school seniors I'd noticed. I had a man's body shape, and that particular aspect of myself actually pleased me greatly.

That first fateful day in the boy's locker room while I was changing for my first-ever gym class, also was the very first time that I'd seen any serious nakedness at all, save for staring at myself in the outhouse. This was my first opportunity to do that other kind of 'comparing' that boys inevitably do. I had a real concern that I'd probably come up very short in that area, too. I formed that impression at a very early age after having seen the stupendous phalluses that my father and Zec each seemed to possess.

I managed to quickly sneak discreet glances here and there around the lockers while we were stripped and changing. It only took that very first gym period to unequivocally establish how I really measured up to the other boys - that kind of naked truth that can only be revealed in a men's locker room.

And the truth flattened me like a steamroller. I was completely stunned and overwhelmed with humiliation.

In the body hair department, the other boys only had some wisps of pubic hair, some a bit more than others. Most of the freshman frankly seemed to me to be pretty much like hairless Chihuahuas, actually. I looked down at myself and saw, in comparison, this narrow strip of dark hair running up from this grotesque 'forest' of dense hair surrounding little Johann and his friends, and followed the centerline of my body right up over my flat stomach.

Instinctively I wanted to immediately hide my differences- and just as fast as possible. I found myself leaping into my brand new jockstrap and quickly yanking it up.

"Whew! There," I muttered to myself, thinking that everything was quite OK now. I then discretely began inspecting how everyone else looked in their own spanking-new jockstraps.

Well the other freshman certainly didn't seem to have much of anything to... well... 'support'. Their jocks covered their nakedness more than effectively, even resembling a broad bathing suit in the front. When they walked around in them, I noticed that nothing shifted inside their mostly flatten pouches so much as a millimeter - more like a bunch of eunuchs, actually.

So after I'd established for myself what the apparent 'norms' were for filling freshman jockstraps, I turned my attention to myself to see comparatively how I really looked in my own. The waistband of mine seemed to fit me just fine, but it sagged too much, as if being pulled down in the front from my narrow hips by an unusual weight. The rest of it, however, didn't look at ALL right to me - not one bit - certainly mine didn't fit me like the other boy's jocks. The white elastic pouch seemed too small, and certainly felt way too snug. I noted that the elastic material was actually stretching as it attempted to confine and hold up its 'load'. Far from being flat, my pouch was prominent and very rounded. Frankly, it bulged. Moreover, the perimeters of my pubic forest were still completely exposed. This big white glaring bulge of mine was perfectly framed with dark contrast all around it. So rather than concealing anything, I realized immediately that wearing my jock actually visually 'quantified'- and in no uncertain terms - just how very much there was. I might as well have turned on a spotlight shining directly at my crotch. When I tried to walk slowly across the floor as inconspicuously as I could, I was further appalled when my bulging pouch stretched and rebounded visibly with each step I took. I noticed that almost all of the other guys were glancing at me- down there- too. (Elastic and I were to become mortal enemies in the future, and unknowingly to me this was my very first hint of that coming 'relationship'.)

When the other boys were butt-naked heading for the shower, I noticed that their little Johann's looked like shaftless 'bald-headed mice' and seemed to poke right out of their round, motionless little sacks. When I walked into the showers, my Johann hung from me like the serpent in the Bible. swinging around and playing an aggressive game of stickball with it's two orbiting balls. I was undeniably a "Triton among the minnows", and the absolutely last thing I wanted was to be so obviously different from the other guys.

Regardless of how carefully I tried to be inconspicuous and nonchalant in the gang showers, I eventually drew all their eyes downward - freshman and seniors alike. Their stares were always carefully expressionless. Wherever I looked however, I would notice at least someone staring at me more or less constantly. That really unglued me. The words, "You're really a freak, Peter," started echoing in my brain as I became almost hyper-aware of the pairs of eyes continually inspecting me.

I wanted to be just like every other freshman; to fit in and to belong in my peer group. But I was so clearly NOT like every other freshman- or actually any seniors I could see for that matter. They all knew it and so did I. A big part of me just ached inside and not one single ounce of 'male pride' did I feel. To me, this was a complete curse. What I didn't have was the balls to cut off my balls, although that thought honestly raced around in my head - having none at all seemed the better of the two big evils. I was deeply ashamed and a big part of me wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die.

Well die I did not. I adjusted. I adapted. I even came up with a strategy - a game plan. It was basically to 'appear' as small as I could, or at least attract as little attention as possible. In an attempt to better conceal myself (and praying that sooner or later the other guys would just forget) I learned to dress and undress quickly, always facing my locker and turned away from everyone else. In no time at all I had it down to a real science of speed and precision. Oh - and by the way, I also just stopped taking showers altogether at school. •