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"description": "This is of Kendall in his early teen years in high school. A diary of one of his roughest days he has ever had growing up then.\n\n[b]Diary...[/b]\n\n[i]\"... My friends warned me about this ever since I decided to join the school team. I should have listened to them even though I thought of myself as an \"equal\" to the other males around me. Sports caught my attention due to the constant running and physical activities that would keep me awake and alive. I didn't want to sit and study all day. I wanted to do some physical activities. I crave excitement and adrenaline rushes whenever I can. But sadly, I learned the hard way that not everyone treats you as an equal, even on the same sports team.\n\nThe jocks around me were a full one or two feet taller than me. Most of them had muscular bodies, almost like they were all roman statues that came to life. They all had bodies that were made for hard core physical activity and training. Mine was the only one that easily stood out. Unlike the jocks, I have a very feminine body for a male. I just reached puberty, my fur is getting \"thicker\" in certain places and my body tone is slowly molding itself to what I have now. I have no muscle on me. No six-pack, no rock hard butt, no thick arms or neck. No. I have the body tone of a female. Every time after a game or practice, the team took showers before going to our next class or home. They point and laugh at my thin body compared to theirs whenever I was naked in front of them or on the court. I said nothing but kept my ears lowered, hoping to drown out the sounds of their laughing and taunts and replaced them with the sounds of the showers and slamming locker doors. They called me names, some I don't care to repeat. They call me 'she' when they are speaking about me, even on the field. They called me \"Ken-Doll\" instead of Kendall. They even vandalized my locker with their hateful words and letters. I complained to my gym teacher, but being that hard rock ( dont-give-a-fuck ) coach that he is, he just tells me to \"suck it up or join the cheerleaders.\"\n\nThe prank that really did make me quit the team and PE all together was when they gave me something that was larger than the words on my locker or the tampons hanging from my towel rack. In place of where my clothes used to be, there was a woman's outfit. Skirt and all. It was hanging neatly in my locker hook instead of my regular clothes, which were pushed deep into the trash along with old ripped jock straps and other disgusting items. On the outfit was a note from the team. My eyes were getting watery from the developing tears that I didn't need to read it, knowing what message they wanted to leave me. I felt my ego go down the drain, the repressed urges to wish I never had this body and my constant hate for myself slowly started to creep up into my mind again. I found myself with my hands covering my tear-filled eyes and my body laying near my locker, still with that outfit looking down at me. Just seeing it made me remember everything that those jocks said to me. They echoed through my ears even though I was alone in the locker room.\n\nI had no choice but to fish my clothes out of the trash and run home, skipping my remaining classes. I cried for hours alone, still hearing those hurtful words flowing through my ears. I can see them pointing and laughing at my thin feminine body, the feeling of dread and helplessness flowed through my body and fur, unable to move or defend myself. My strength slowly left me as I had nothing else to do but curl up in a ball and cry. I thought people treated you like any other, as equals, no matter how you may look or what sex you are. I was wrong. I didn't want to be wrong. I pounded my fists against my bed as I screamed that it wasn't true, but I couldn't find one experience I've been though in school that would correct my answer.\n\nI'm writing this now, my hand still trembling from the hours of crying. As I write this, I have flashbacks of their teasing, my heart raced in my chest as more tears are making it harder to see when I'm writing. My friends said that I should never be ashamed of my body. Its unique. They said not a lot of guys have the type of body I have and there are guys that would be very jealous of my physical gift. I try to replace negative taunts from the jocks with those kind words, but its very difficult and it will take time. Right now, Im calming my breath and trying to hold my chest out high. I can still be strong. I don't need this kind of hate. My body is my temple and I need to treat it with respect, not hate it and wish that I never had it. Later, I will look in the mirror and say 10 good things about my body. I will continue to do this every day until I feel like my body is perfect in every way...\"[/i]\n\n\n[b]- Kendall[/b]\n\nA fantastic emotional commission done by [iconname]OokamiKemono[/iconname]. The sequel to this can be found [url=https://inkbunny.net/submissionview.php?id=321249]HERE[/url].",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "This is of Kendall in his early teen years in high school. A diary of one of his roughest days he has ever had growing up then.
Diary...
"... My friends warned me about this ever since I decided to join the school team. I should have listened to them even though I thought of myself as an "equal" to the other males around me. Sports caught my attention due to the constant running and physical activities that would keep me awake and alive. I didn't want to sit and study all day. I wanted to do some physical activities. I crave excitement and adrenaline rushes whenever I can. But sadly, I learned the hard way that not everyone treats you as an equal, even on the same sports team.
The jocks around me were a full one or two feet taller than me. Most of them had muscular bodies, almost like they were all roman statues that came to life. They all had bodies that were made for hard core physical activity and training. Mine was the only one that easily stood out. Unlike the jocks, I have a very feminine body for a male. I just reached puberty, my fur is getting "thicker" in certain places and my body tone is slowly molding itself to what I have now. I have no muscle on me. No six-pack, no rock hard butt, no thick arms or neck. No. I have the body tone of a female. Every time after a game or practice, the team took showers before going to our next class or home. They point and laugh at my thin body compared to theirs whenever I was naked in front of them or on the court. I said nothing but kept my ears lowered, hoping to drown out the sounds of their laughing and taunts and replaced them with the sounds of the showers and slamming locker doors. They called me names, some I don't care to repeat. They call me 'she' when they are speaking about me, even on the field. They called me "Ken-Doll" instead of Kendall. They even vandalized my locker with their hateful words and letters. I complained to my gym teacher, but being that hard rock ( dont-give-a-fuck ) coach that he is, he just tells me to "suck it up or join the cheerleaders."
The prank that really did make me quit the team and PE all together was when they gave me something that was larger than the words on my locker or the tampons hanging from my towel rack. In place of where my clothes used to be, there was a woman's outfit. Skirt and all. It was hanging neatly in my locker hook instead of my regular clothes, which were pushed deep into the trash along with old ripped jock straps and other disgusting items. On the outfit was a note from the team. My eyes were getting watery from the developing tears that I didn't need to read it, knowing what message they wanted to leave me. I felt my ego go down the drain, the repressed urges to wish I never had this body and my constant hate for myself slowly started to creep up into my mind again. I found myself with my hands covering my tear-filled eyes and my body laying near my locker, still with that outfit looking down at me. Just seeing it made me remember everything that those jocks said to me. They echoed through my ears even though I was alone in the locker room.
I had no choice but to fish my clothes out of the trash and run home, skipping my remaining classes. I cried for hours alone, still hearing those hurtful words flowing through my ears. I can see them pointing and laughing at my thin feminine body, the feeling of dread and helplessness flowed through my body and fur, unable to move or defend myself. My strength slowly left me as I had nothing else to do but curl up in a ball and cry. I thought people treated you like any other, as equals, no matter how you may look or what sex you are. I was wrong. I didn't want to be wrong. I pounded my fists against my bed as I screamed that it wasn't true, but I couldn't find one experience I've been though in school that would correct my answer.
I'm writing this now, my hand still trembling from the hours of crying. As I write this, I have flashbacks of their teasing, my heart raced in my chest as more tears are making it harder to see when I'm writing. My friends said that I should never be ashamed of my body. Its unique. They said not a lot of guys have the type of body I have and there are guys that would be very jealous of my physical gift. I try to replace negative taunts from the jocks with those kind words, but its very difficult and it will take time. Right now, Im calming my breath and trying to hold my chest out high. I can still be strong. I don't need this kind of hate. My body is my temple and I need to treat it with respect, not hate it and wish that I never had it. Later, I will look in the mirror and say 10 good things about my body. I will continue to do this every day until I feel like my body is perfect in every way..."
- Kendall
A fantastic emotional commission done by [iconname]OokamiKemono[/iconname]. The sequel to this can be found HERE.",
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