Four Foot Two and Eyes of Blue

I'd always identified with Judge Selah Lively, in Edgar Lee Master's Spoon River Anthology:

SUPPOSE you stood just five feet two, And had worked your way as a grocery clerk, Studying law by candle light Until you became an attorney at law?

Excepting in my case, it was Suppose you stood just four foot two, and had a ten-inch dick.

That pretty much sums up my story.

Except it doesn't really. You probably want to hear more.

More about how I got from there to here. Okay.

Even before I maxed out at four feet two, I was small for my age, and bullied. Not just by the boys, although God knows, they never ceased picking at an easy target, but by the girls as well. When I was young and naïve, I already knew how to avoid the tall boys, with their fists and feet, but I didn't yet know about the girls. When they were friendly to me, I rushed to accept their overtures, looking for friends of any stripe.

But when they had me alone, I found that they just wanted me to be their "living doll". They'd hold me down and dress me up in baby clothes, try to get me to drink from a bottle, wear diapers. I ran screaming. I grew very leery of girls.

Years later when they approached me to again be a baby, they pointed out the rewards such cooperation could bring. I went along with it, dressing up as a baby and sitting in a stroller as they wandered through stores. Below the sight lines of the clerks, and dismissed by them as an infant, I was able to grab quite a bit of merchandise and hide it beneath me in the stroller. It was profitable for a while, but eventually I grew too large for the stroller. But my partners in crime had remained friendly to me for a while, allowing me a seat at the table at lunch. But then their high school friends teased them about their freak boyfriend, and to protect themselves they joined in the teasing, the pranks, and the humiliations that my diminutive stature seems to encourage in the average teenager.

I grew up lonely. When I did find a friend, it never lasted. They'd find new friends and drift away; become interested in the sports I couldn't compete in and that would consume their time. Or like the girls, they'd just give in to the teasing and torment that only I couldn't escape for long.

No dates or female companionship for 'Baby Boy' Boswell. Actually, I was Ronald, Ronnie to my family, Boswell, but Baby Boy was what I was almost universal referred to, even by teachers. I didn't think I'd ever have sex with another person.

Finally, I went away to college, but unfortunately the college I went to was the choice of the majority of my class. The Baby Boy monicker followed me.

My college was in the state capital, a much larger city than the township I had grown up in. The city had all kinds of things I didn't know how to find in our little hamlet. Among those things were prostitutes.

Once I'd saved enough money by skipping or skimping on lunches and dinners, I headed down to the "War Zone", the neighborhood where drugs and whores were to be found. I was rebuffed by the first few I approached. I was told, "Go home, kid, come back when you grow up!" When I protested that I was already 18, the first several responded that they didn't do freaks.

How depressing is it when even the whores won't do you, for love or money? Luckily, the fourth lady of the evening just sighed, looked around so see if there were any other prospects in sight, sighed again, and said "Well, it's going to cost you extra."

Of course, I agreed, and we were off.

She took me up to her room and led me over to a sink. "Drop trou, boy, I need to clean you first."

Her eyes bugged out when my semi-erect penis popped out. "Oh my God", she groaned.

I was shocked at her amazement and excitement. My mother was always afraid I'd get hurt, so I always had a doctor's excuse and never took gym class. I had no friends, so I'd never been around any naked boys. I didn't know that again, I was freakish.

But apparently, this time in a good way. But it did explain how the nurses were always friendly to me during my physicals.

In the end, she didn't even charge me extra. She even invited me back.

And I? I was in heaven. This was so much better than anything I could achieve with my hand. I hardly ate at all that semester, to be able to hit the War Zone as often as possible. Nelly, my new prostitute friend, even introduced me to other girls, who were equally excited by my appendage. Now I got a new nickname: "Ten Inch Ronnie". They actually competed to get my business. No one charged extra -- in fact, I got discounted rates from most of the girls.

I was losing weight from missing meals, falling asleep in class from late night romps, and generally more interested in sex than school. Something had to give, and one night it did.

I was pounding a new girl, Jolene. In fact, she was doing the pounding, something several of the girls found exciting. She was lifting me up and down, my dick in vagina. She was controlling her pounding, and frankly, she was harder on herself than I could ever have been. It was great.

When we were done and I was dressing, Jolene said, "You know, that would make a great porno."

"What?" I asked.

"Well, you know some of the girls and I do porn. I should take you down to XX-Studios. I'm sure they could use you. You'd get good money too. Not too many dwarfs with a ten-inch handle!"

"Little person," I automatically corrected, but I was intrigued. Jolene promised to call me with an audition date.

So here I am. 10 Inch Ronnie, the freak of porno. Already twenty-five films under my belt, so to speak. I'm getting laid regularly and getting paid for it. Well paid. And my agent books me and Jolene for private parties that pay even better. People are fascinated by my physique and Jolene's expert use of it. She can even deep throat most of me.

The funny thing? The question I get asked most often?

"How do you not trip over that thing?"