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The next morning came far sooner than Brandon would have liked. Brandon muttered curses under his breath as he rolled out of bed and examined himself in the mirror. He was still hot, but he was nowhere near as buff as he had been yesterday. His body now looked toned and athletic. The divides between his ripped abs were now shallow grooves instead of the deep trenches they had been before. His once massive pecs now lacked their trademark overhang. He tried his hardest to flex them which only managed to make them tighten up a bit.

He lifted his arm and flexed with all his might. His bicep rose up several inches, but it was not nearly enough. He glanced at it furtively for a moment and then tried to plant one of his trademark kisses on it. Even if he craned his neck as far as it would go he still couldn't reach.

He was crestfallen. He lifted his bicep up to his lips and planted one quick peck on it as if in apology for his failure. He could already tell this day was going to be hell. There's no way he could hide his loss in muscle mass. He considered calling in sick, but if what Sarah said was true, the rumor mill was already hard at work chewing him apart. Staying home would be an act of surrender, and he refused; he absolutely, adamantly refused to ever surrender.

Brandon gritted his teeth and steeled his resolve. He reached for his favorite shirt, but as he was pulling it on, he saw the bold text and the large sandwich mocking him. He grimaced and quickly pulled the shirt off and tossed it into the hamper. The shirt came off his lithe frame easily.

He grabbed one of his old shirts from his closet. It was the smallest size he had and was about as generic as t-shirts come, but that was for the best. The last thing he needed was to announce his presence so people could see his downfall firsthand.

The ride in to school was torture. Fortunately very few people rode the early bus. Even his siblings took the one that came by an hour later. Still, the few students that rode with him were all staring at him. Some seemed curious. Some seemed surprised, and some even seemed to be taking sadistic glee in his reduced state.

One of the more brazen students got up from his seat and plopped down in the spot next to Brandon. Brandon glared at him menacingly. Nobody had ever willingly sat next to him. Everyone knew from the first day of classes that he was not to be messed with, but this guy seemed completely nonplussed by Brandon's death scowl.

"Are you really the same dude who was all jacked n shit last week?" The guy asked.

Brandon didn't dignify his question with a response. He just sat there and glared angrily out the window, but the newcomer did not know how to take a hint.

"Hey, man. I asked you a question." The new guy said as he placed a hand on Brandon's shoulder.

Brandon's muscles may have diminished, but his reflexes hadn't. The very second that the new guy laid a finger on Brandon's shoulder, Brandon spun around and grabbed his wrist. The guy yelped in pain. It felt like Brandon was trying to grind his wrist into dust. "Leave. Me. Alone." Brandon growled menacingly.

The guy tried to get away as fast as he could. He immediately jumped up from the seat and tried to backpedal away from the angry jock. Brandon held onto his wrist just long enough for the guy to be off balance and then suddenly released his grip. The student toppled over backwards and landed with a thud between the seats. The entire bus erupted into a mix of nervous laughter and hushed whispers. Brandon just knew they were all talking about what had just happened. After that little outburst there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was the huge bully that everyone feared.

Brandon rushed off the bus as soon as it came to a stop and darted towards the locker room. The less time he spent out in the open the better. He was glad to see that he had beaten most everyone there. Only a few members of the team were there already, and of those few, none of his potential rivals were among them.

Brandon quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before dropping his jeans. He could hear some mutters from a few of the other teammates as they watched him. Brandon knew he was making himself seem even more suspicious; he had never before hidden his bare skin from anyone before, but he didn't dare show anyone his cock. Not even he knew just how small it was now. The fewer people that knew about that aspect of his reduction the better.

He quickly fished his bag out from his locker and began to pull out his basketball uniform. The jersey looked ridiculously oversized for him as he shook it out; it was designed to fit him back when he had a broad back complete with huge, bulging lats, but now all he had were toned ripples under his armpits. Apparently a few of the other guys had noticed this too because Brandon heard a sound that he had not heard in years. A snicker; a devious little snigger from one of those assholes he called teammates, and worst of all, it was directed at him.

Brandon spun around glared angrily at the members of the basketball team. By this time more and more players were filtering in for the morning practice. He could tell by the looks on their face that they were nowhere near as impressed with him as they had been before.

Brandon couldn't take it. All the rage and all the ire that he had building in him since yesterday bubbled to the surface. "Who was it!?" He shouted angrily. He glared menacingly at each and every person in the locker room. A few of the smaller guys shrunk away at the intensity of his gaze, but some of the bigger and stronger ones were less cowed.

"You got something you want to say to me!?" Brandon shouted. Brandon took a step forward menacingly. Even the bigger and braver players recoiled this time. Brandon's scowl gave way to a smug sneer.

"That's what I thought." Brandon said gruffly and gave a smug chuckle. "Not one of you pussies are man enough to defy me. I'm twice the man any of you will ever be."

Brandon turned back to his locker and continued peeling off his casual clothes. It was then that he heard a distinct voice. Whether it was real or imagined is hard to say, but he heard it all the same. "Prove it." The voice goaded.

"Who said that!?" Brandon shouted in rage as he quickly spun back around. The intensity of his unbridled rage made everyone recoil in fear. "Answer me." He commanded in a harsh growl, but nobody seemed to know what he was shouting about.

"That's right." Brandon growled with a sneer. "I don't have to prove anything to anyone. You've all seen it firsthand. I'm more of a man than any of you, and the sooner you faggots get that through your thick, goddamn skulls the better!"

Brandon knew he should leave it at that. He had already reasserted his dominance, and no one had stepped forth to oppose him. He could already feel a draft wafting up through the legs of his shorts as if to warn him about what would happen if he took his power trip too far. His pant legs of his gym shorts had always been stretched so tight around his massive quads that they may as well have been painted onto his thighs, but now his shorts were loose and airy. He knew that if he went too far he'd be in for further reductions, but he still couldn't shake the fear welling up inside of him. Their respect in him was no doubt shaken. If he didn't act now he could lose it altogether.

Even in his reduced state Brandon knew he was still stronger than most guys here. He just had to pick one to make an example out of. That would get them off his back long enough for him to regain his former glory. His eye's narrowed and his lips curled into a malicious sneer as he set eyes upon Tim.

Tim was pretty average in just about every way which made him the perfect target. He was weak enough that Brandon could boss him around but still strong enough that Brandon wouldn't get called out for picking on the little guys. Better yet, Tim's dick only capped out at five inches. Brandon knew he still had the lanky junior beat in that regards, but Brandon was determined not to allow his reduced dick to be seen.

"You think this is funny?" Brandon menacingly asked the shaggy haired teen. Brandon pressed his forearm to the lanky teen's throat and pinned him to the locker. Tim recoiled in fear and shook his head vigorously.

"Yeah. I thought not." Brandon said with a smug sense of satisfaction. His glare softened slightly into a sneer. He was just about to return to his locker secure in his victory when something completely unexpected happened. Something rammed into Brandon hard from the side. Before he knew it he was tumbling over sideways.

The next thing Brandon knew he was staring up at the tall, lithe team captain. "I don't know about him, but I think this is hilarious." Donovan said with a sneer. He quickly scored a quick punch across Brandon's face before taking another moment to gloat.

"Don't start a fight you don't intend to finish." Brandon spat back. Donovan may have been bigger, but Brandon was no stranger to fights. He never backed down, and his reflexes were as good as ever. Donovan on the other hand had never really been in a brawl before so he didn't know that the position he was in as he tried to pin Brandon down just left him exposed and vulnerable to a counterattack.

In one quick motion Brandon turned Donovan's weight against him, flipping the captain over and sending him crashing to the floor. Donovan cried out in pain as his shoulder made contact with the cold, hard tile.

"Let's see you try that again, fucker." Brandon growled as he glared down at the fallen captain. Donovan groaned and gripped his shoulder, but he made no effort to stand back up. As the pain steadily faded, Donovan's groans gave way to a soft chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Brandon growled. Donovan either couldn't reply or just chose not to. Either way his continued chuckling just made Brandon angrier.

"Answer me!" Brandon shouted as he gave Donovan a quick, hard kick to the ribs. Donovan groaned in pain, but even that only stopped his chuckling for a moment.

It was then that Brandon heard the murmurs through the crowd. He glanced up and everywhere he looked he saw more and more guys glancing down at him. Most of them looked shocked, but a few were actually sneering. They were sneering. At him! Brandon's rage began to bubble up anew. Brandon was ready to throw down with each and every person on the team. He was sure he could still take them even with his reduced muscles, but once his eyes fell upon David his blood ran cold.

The tanned senior had a very different expression than the rest. His eyes twinkled with a look of manic victory, and it didn't take Brandon long to figure out why. David had had a reputation of having the biggest dick around before Brandon had shown up. Even to this day he still kept the nickname of "David Ten-Inch." The look in his eyes made it clear that he knew that he was once again the top dong.

It was then that Brandon became aware that his towel had fallen off during the scuffle. He was so used to traipsing around nude that it hadn't even occurred to him. He looked down and saw that his cock was now smaller than even he had expected. It had to be no more than six inches, but worse than that, it was ridiculously skinny. What used to be as big around as his wrist was now barely thicker than his thumb. Even his balls had shrunken to an extreme degree. His once massive, grapefruit sized nuts were slightly smaller than ping pong balls.

"You. Think. This. Is. Funny!?" Brandon roared. Each word was punctuated with another swift kick to Donovan's ribs. Donovan's laughter gave way to groans of pain, but his chest still shuddered like he was giggling.

"We all know you've got a pathetic micro-cock." Brandon added with a snarl.

"It's not that..." Donovan managed to croak weakly.

"Oh?" Brandon asked menacingly. "Then what is it?" He asked as he kneeled down closer to the injured captain.

"You're bleeding..." Donovan managed to croak before chuckling again.

It was only then that Brandon became aware of the pain in his lip. He lifted his hand to his mouth and gave his lip an exploratory wipe. When he pulled his hand back he could see a definite trace of blood. The trickle of blood may not have seemed significant to the rest of the team, but Brandon understood Donovan's implication perfectly. Brandon was no longer invincible. If even Donovan, who was a self-professed lover and not a fighter, could make him bleed then any of the tougher guys could beat the shit out of Brandon. It was only a matter of time before word got out.

Brandon kicked Donovan a few more times. "Fuck this! Fuck all of you! Fuck you in particular!" He roared. "Let's see how you fuckers do in the finals without me!" Brandon then stomped off towards his locker, but not before giving one last parting kick to the side of Donovan's face. The captain was doubled over in pain but was still chuckling.

Brandon hastily threw his clothes back on and stormed out of the locker room. Everyone watched him leave, but nobody said anything. They all just stared at him and sneered. He had been thoroughly and utterly defeated and everyone knew this, no one more so than Brandon himself.

The rest of the day was no better for him. His clothes now hung awkwardly on his lean frame. He kept feeling drafts wash across his torso as air wafted through his loose shirt. Even his formerly skin tight jeans shifted and bunched up awkwardly as he stomped through the hallways. Even the distinct clacking of his boots seemed to be lacking their normal bravado. Now that Brandon hardly had much in the way of calves, his boots kept shifting around. He even tripped over them right in the middle of the hallway between classes. The entire hallway had stopped to laugh at him, and Brandon could do nothing but grumble silently. He had neither the power nor the will to fight back.

His ego took one blow after another. Everywhere he looked people were glancing his way and snickering or sizing him up. There were several of the jocks that were now bigger and stronger than him, and they were going out of their way to bash into him while walking by. On numerous occasions Brandon found himself nearly knocked completely back as one of the huge guys on the football team slammed into him with their shoulders. Brandon tried his best to act like nothing had happened, but he could hear the snickers echoing through the hall after each collision.

It was maddening. He wanted so much to take those jerks down; he knew he probably could still beat them in a fight, but each victory would shrink him farther. The more he fought, the smaller he would get. His rage bubbled inside of him, but more and more he felt something else growing inside of him; it was a feeling he was unfamiliar with. It was like a gnawing in the center of his chest. It was like his lungs were being crushed under the weight of his heavy breaths.

He tried to shake the feeling, but it continued to grow. The doubts plagued his mind. What if Sarah never removed the curse? What if he never got his size back? What if... what if he got even smaller? As that last thought crossed his mind he felt like his legs could give out from under him. The weight of his despair was now so much that it threatened to crush him completely. The gnawing fear in his stomach threatened to swallow him whole.

He knew what he had to do. As much as he hated it, he had to talk to Sarah. She was his only chance at salvation. He wasn't about to admit defeat, but he wasn't above sweet talking a girl to get what he wanted; he had done so numerous times in the past, but he never thought he'd see the day where he would have to turn his charm on full blast for Tiny Tits Sarah.

Brandon skipped his next class and wandered over towards the math wing. He knew Sarah was in one of these classes, but he didn't know which. He tried his best to remain discrete as he walked quietly through the halls. He peeked into the windows and scanned the class hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Finally he caught sight of her blonde ponytail in the back row on one of the classrooms. He knew there was no way he could discretely get her attention from back there, but that was well enough for him. All he had to do was stay out of trouble for one hour.

Brandon ducked into one of the stalls in a nearby restroom and waited quietly for the bell to ring. He hated that he had been reduced to this, but he couldn't risk going out in the halls. What if someone he knew caught him? Brandon silently stewed in his ire for the duration of the hour. All the while the anger welled inside him. This was all wrong. He was the king of the jocks, the prime terror of the hallways. How could he have been reduced to having to hide in a bathroom stall like some pencil dicked dweeb?

When the bell finally rang it felt as if he was being released from his sentence. Brandon bolted from the restroom as fast as he could. He even went so far as to bowl over some unsuspecting students as he did so, but he didn't care about that. As far as he was concerned they were just obstacles between him and his salvation.

Brandon peered out through the crowd in an effort to catch a glimpse of his sister. He even went so far as to hop up on his tippy toes in an effort to look over the crowd, but it didn't help much. Finally he caught sight of her leaving the classroom he had seen her in earlier. Brandon shoved his way through the crowd as best as he could, but he no longer had the sheer size and strength that he was used to nor did he command the respect that he had had just yesterday. He was buffeted one way and then the other as the throngs of students pushed right by him. He was jostled and jarred, but he kept his eyes on his target. He was already so thoroughly weakened. There was no way in hell he was going to let himself dwindle any farther.

"Stop!" He called out desperately as he reached for her hand.

Sarah tensed up as she felt a hand grab hers. She spun around defensively and glared at her assailant. She balked when she saw that it was her brother. Brandon was staring at her pleadingly. Sarah didn't know what to say. She hadn't actually expected her brother to cave so soon, but it appeared like he was finally ready to discuss things rationally. He was still in fairly good shape to boot.

"Please." Brandon begged. "Make it stop. I can't do this anymore."

He seemed so sincere that Sarah had half a mind to follow through, but at the same time she had to be sure that he had learned his lesson. He had been known to lie and play innocent when it served his purposes; this time could be the same. She furrowed her brow thoughtfully for a moment as she mulled it over, but those pleading, blue, puppy dog eyes were wearing her down fast.

"Fine." She said with a huff. "But if I do this you must promise..." She paused to collect her thoughts and build up dramatic tension. Brandon waited with baited breath for the terms and conditions.

"I fully expect you to be on your best behavior. You have one chance and one chance only. If you so much as think of going back to your old ways..." She said dramatically letting her voice trail off at the end. This was done as much to instill fear in her brother as it was to hide the fact that she couldn't think of a decent threat. She wasn't a spiteful person by nature, and it was hard to think of the lean, pleading guy before her as the same person as the macho douchebag that had made life hell for her and her twin brother as well as had terrorized the entire student body.

Brandon nodded emphatically in agreement. "Please. Just stop it. I can't even defend myself without worrying about shrinking." He pleaded.

Sarah glared at him for a second. "... If you are shrinking from defending yourself, I think you need to take a moment to think about what is considered justifiable self-defense..." She responded skeptically, but what he said did make some sense. She couldn't expect him to just turn his act around overnight. It would take a while for him to unlearn all his old bad habits. Brandon now was pretty much average in every way. If he kept his head down and kept his nose clean he would be able to live a relatively quiet life, and who knows? Maybe in time he could even learn to be a decent human being.

"Ugh... fine..." Sarah replied in exasperation. She made an exaggerated wave of her hand and nodded at Brandon. "There. Curse dispelled." She said flippantly.

"What...? That's it?" Brandon asked. He looked over his body and even patted himself down, but he didn't feel any different at all. Had she tricked him?

"I know what you're thinking." Sarah cut in. "And no. I did not trick you. You are free from the curse, but do not think for a minute that I trust you." She said flatly. "I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but no more than that. I will be watching you. If hear so much as a rumor that you are back up to your old tricks I will make you wish you had stuck with the hex."

The severity of her gaze and the icy chill of her voice made Brandon's hair stand on end. He hadn't realized how scary Sarah could be, but Brandon knew that his sister was a total pushover. She would eventually take pity on him. All Brandon had to do was play his part until he found a way out of his current predicament.

"What about my size?" Brandon asked pleadingly. He knew she wouldn't restore him so easily, but he had a role to play. For his gambit to work she had to think that he was already broken. Sarah cocked an eyebrow and stared at him as if appraising his body and his attitude.

"We can discuss that later." She said flatly. "You have done nothing to prove yourself. Now go before I change my mind."

Brandon nodded and slunk off in dejection, but the second he was sure that his sister was no longer watching a devious sneer crossed his lips. He was going to play the good little hostage... when she wasn't looking. It's not like it would be that hard to get her to reconsider. How many times had she argued with their parents on Seth's behalf? Sarah was a notorious softy. Brandon gave it three days tops before she was sorry for putting him through this hell and restored his body, and by then Brandon would be armed with all the counter-curse and anti-hex measures that Wikipedia could provide. In just a few short days he was going to be invincible just like he was always meant to be.