SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

*****

Part 4…

BEEP… BEEP… BEEP…

“That’ll be $128.99,” the cashier said.

Wade opened his banking app and stared at the screen.

Available balance: $382.42.

A month had passed; Wade had already burned through the three grand he’d made filming his shame. Mortgage, bills, groceries, Emma, and that expensive dinner with Samantha—gone, just like that.

He glanced at the cart: chicken, milk, coffee, bread—and a few things Emma liked.

He picked up the chicken and checked the price.

“You can put that back. I just remembered—I’m vegetarian,” Wade said with an awkward laugh.

The cashier—who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else—glanced at the chicken, then at Wade, and sighed. “That’ll be $113.99.”

Wade stared over the cart again.

“Did you just remember you’re vegan as well? Want me to take the milk back, too?” the cashier deadpanned.

Wade shot him a glare. “No, I’m fine.” He yanked out his card and paid.

He used to toss groceries into the cart without checking prices. Now he pretended to be vegetarian just to dodge embarrassment.

Wade jammed his card into his wallet, grabbed the bags, and headed to his car. When he arrived home, he shouldered the door open and trudged to the living room.

“Hello there, tiny king!” a voice called from behind him.

Wade screamed. The grocery bags hit the floor.

Lea lounged on his couch, legs crossed, inspecting her nails as if she owned the place. She wore a slim black blazer with a shaped top and trousers.

Wade stared at her, half-shocked and half-terrified. “What… how… why?” he stammered, unsure which question to ask first.

Lea grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Your lock is pathetic, by the way; I only needed my gym card to open it. Have you changed it recently?”

“How—how did you find me?”

She rose and edged toward him, her gaze fixed on him like a cat stalking a nervous mouse. Wade took a small step back.

“Oh, Wade, look at you—cute when you’re scared, like you think I’m about to eat you,” she teased with a chuckle, stopping right in front of him. “Relax. We just got your full name from the bartender and tracked down your address. That’s all.”

Wade’s gaze darted to the windows, panic prickling his skin. He lunged over and yanked the curtains nearly shut, hands fumbling. She’d broken into his house and made herself comfortable—if Emma walked in, or Luna dropped her off, or Samantha showed up, he was finished. All it would take was one look, and his secret would be everywhere.

Lea watched him tug at the curtains. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure no one sees you.”

She glanced down at herself. “Well, I’m not naked—though I wouldn’t mind,” she said with a playful grin. “But I know you would. You’d want to keep your little secret hidden in your pants.”

He spun toward her, face flushed with anger. “You work at a porn studio! You can’t just show up at my house!”

Lea’s smile turned mischievous. “You missed me, didn’t you”

“No! What are you even doing here?” he demanded.

“I’m just here to congratulate you.” She leaned back against the couch, enjoying his baffled expression. “ The studio’s thrilled with the numbers—your scene is one of our biggest hits this month. The audience loved watching your tiny penis get humiliated.”

“Really?” Wade blurted, then caught himself. “I mean—that’s… disgusting.”

Lea smiled. “Yeah. Thousands saw the scene.”

“And what about my face?” he asked anxiously.

“Don’t worry. Your face is blurred, just as promised.”

He exhaled, shoulders sagging. Silence pressed in, thick and awkward.

“But…” Lea said, drawing out the word.

Wade looked at her, worry creeping back into his expression. “But what—?”

“We’ve been trying to make more videos with the same concept, but we can’t seem to get it right.” She paused, her gaze flicking to his crotch, and gave him a teasing smile. “Apparently, the fans adored your little penis more than anyone else’s.”

Wade looked at her, insulted. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to that.”

“They’ve never seen a humiliation scene this raw and convincing,” Lea continued. “Everyone else fakes it. You were genuinely crying and actually looked humiliated”

“I was humiliated,” he muttered.

“Exactly, and the subscribers loved it.” Lea pointed at him, her voice almost admiring. “Nobody else toes the line between relatable and pitiful quite like you. Small enough to make it funny—and degrading. And, most importantly, authentic.”

She looked at him, her expression earnest. “The fans are asking for more.”

“No,” Wade snapped, his voice firm.

Unfazed, Lea pulled a business card from her pocket and set it on the table.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“The studio’s card. The address is on it.”

“I already said no.” Wade crossed his arms

“But you haven’t even heard the offer.” Lea leaned forward slightly. “The big boss wants to meet you. Dress appropriately.”

Wade looked at her, then down at the card.

She rose, turned, and headed for the door. With her hand on the knob, she glanced back at Wade, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Oh, Wade, I just remembered—Jerry says thanks.”

“For what?” Wade asked, already wary.

“The king scene saved his job.”

“Wonderful,” he said flatly.

“So, technically, your tiny worm isn’t completely useless after all.” Lea laughed.

Wade gave her a long, unimpressed look. “Goodbye, Lea.” He shut the door behind her.

He let out a breath and turned back toward the card, walking slowly to the table. He picked it up and studied the name printed on it: Glory Moaning Productions.

Then he glanced at the address. “No,” he whispered. Then, as if the words might change, he repeated, “No way.” The card slipped from his fingers as he sank into the cushions, fighting the urge to look at it again.

His phone buzzed, and Emma’s face appeared on the screen.

“Hey, sweetie,” Wade said with a soft smile.

“Dad, I’ve been thinking about what to get Mom for her birthday. Last month, she showed me a few watches she liked, and I found them online. They’re on sale,” she said with an excited smile.“I thought we could get one together for her birthday. Should we go together next weekend?” she asked innocently.

When Wade thought about the price tags, his heart sank. “Certainly, my dear, we can definitely go,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Thank you, Dad! You’re the best!” Emma said. “I’ll send you the link so you can see which ones I like. Bye!”

“Bye, sweetheart.” Wade’s smile slowly faded as the call ended.

Wade glanced at his phone when a message came in. He clicked the link and landed on a page of luxury watches priced from $2,000 to $5,000. His eyes widened, and his throat went dry.

“Fucking hell—maybe taking the milk back wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

He tossed the phone aside, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. For several seconds, his mind drifted back to the studio: the lights, the cameras, the laughter, and the humiliation. He shook his head. He was Wade Smith, a respected engineer. Clients trusted him with projects worth millions, and people listened when he entered a room.

And now what?

A porn studio wanted him because strangers apparently liked watching him be humiliated over the one thing he’d spent his whole life feeling insecure about.

But another thought followed immediately.

“Nobody will know.”

His face had been blurred. His real name wasn’t attached to anything. No one would ever connect that tiny-dicked man on the screen to Wade Smith.

He rubbed his face with both hands. Still dizzy, he opened his eyes and stared at the card.
“No way.”
.
.
.
By the following morning, Wade stood outside the studio, glancing from the card in his hand to the building.

Glory Moaning Productions.

He hesitated. “This is a mistake,” he muttered, but the words didn’t stop him from pushing the door open.

The reception area was surprisingly ordinary: white walls, a small desk, and a few chairs. Behind the desk sat a woman with pink hair, buffing her nails. She didn’t look up as Wade entered.

He approached the desk slowly and cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”

The woman blew gently across her nails, as if she hadn’t heard him.

“Hello?” Wade tried again, raising his voice a little.

At last, she glanced up, her irritation so sharp it nearly nicked him. “What? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Sorry,” he said, his voice shrinking. “I just—I have a meeting.”

“With who?”

Wade paused, suddenly unsure if this was the right answer. “The big boss,” he said hesitantly.

With a sigh, she finally gave him her attention. “What’s your name?”

“Wade-Wade Smith,” he replied, stumbling over the introduction.

She checked her computer and typed something, then nodded toward the chairs. “Wait there. Someone will come get you.”

Wade lingered, nodded, and sat. For a moment, he stared straight ahead, determined not to look around. That determination lasted about ten seconds.

Four muscular black men walked past him in Speedos that revealed their huge cocks, laughing together as they carried a rack of leather bondage gear.

Wade’s eyes widened. He glanced at their crotches, looked down at his, then back up. Shifting in his chair, he awkwardly crossed his legs.

Coming from the other direction, a group of women in Renaissance costumes strutted past, adjusting their corsets and messy hair as they giggled about how the last scene had left their asses aching. “He was really rough on me today,” one confided, sending the others into fits of laughter.

“Oh my god,” Wade murmured.

Then, through the window, He spotted a Japanese woman in a schoolgirl costume recording a voiceover.

Wade’s eyebrows shot up—yep, he definitely recognized those anime moans. She made sounds he’d only ever heard in late-night anime porn. She caught his gaze through the glass, and Wade flushed, whipping his eyes away in embarrassment.

A small man in a full jester outfit came out from a dressing room, sucking on a lollipop and humming circus music. He clocked Wade right away.

“Is it your first day, darling?” the man asked, pulling the lollipop from his mouth.

“How’d you figure that out?” Wade asked dryly.

“Because you’re still wearing pants,” the man winked, then sashayed down the hall.

Wade watched him go, then stared at the ceiling. “What planet am I on?” he muttered.

“Wade!” A bright, familiar voice cut through the surreal atmosphere. He turned, and something in his chest loosened before he could stop it. Lea. Of course it was Lea. He was so glad to see her that it was almost humiliating.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” she said, approaching him with a soft smile. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

Before Wade could answer, Lea snapped her fingers at a passing PA. “Lemonade—extra tart.” She turned back to Wade, dropped into the seat beside him, and leaned in. “The boss is in a meeting, so we wait.”

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Wade bobbed his head, awkward as a kid on the first day of school.

“You look nervous”

“I am not nervous.” Wade frowned

Lea smirked, eyes flicking to his vibrating knees. “Sure.”

“Maybe a little,” Wade admitted, his voice cracking. He leaned closer and whispered, “Seriously, Lea… what’s this meeting about?”

“Your small penis,” Lea replied immediately.

“What!”His voice cracked

Lea laughed, enjoying every second of his discomfort. “I mean, it is the big topic,” she said, grinning.

“It’s not funny”

“Okay, relax.” Lea handed him the lemonade when it arrived, her tone softening. “Your video did really well. But the boss doesn’t meet performers because one video did okay. This meeting means they’re thinking beyond one scene.”

He swallowed. “So… exactly how well did the video do?”

Lea took out her phone. “125,000 views. 10,000 likes. 3,000 comments.”

Wade sat frozen, a mix of horror and fascination twisting in his belly. Part of him wanted to disappear from the world—the other part. The desperate part couldn’t stop imagining all those comments. What did people think of him? Did they laugh? Did they feel pity for him? Was there anyone who actually… liked it? He hated that he wanted to know so much. He could almost feel all those eyes on his penis watching his worst humiliation.

“That’s… a lot of people,” he croaked.

“Yeah, and they all waved hi to your little friend.” She flashed him a playful smile. “If you want, I can read you the best comments, the weirdest ones, or both. You decide, King.”

Before Wade could respond, Lea’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and rose. “The boss is ready. Follow me.”

Wade stood, his knees slightly unsteady, and followed her down the long hallway, passing doors with different labels. He glanced at each one, his face growing redder as he read: BBC SIZE. INTERRACIAL CUCKOLDING. MILF. PUSSY EATING, and all the things he’d only ever secretly searched for late at night, alone. At the end of the hall, she stopped at a door marked, “CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER.”

“Ready?” Lea asked with a smile.

Wade took a deep breath and adjusted his tie. His heart pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears.

The door swung open, and he stepped inside. Instantly, the studio’s wild chaos disappeared. Everything here was controlled: polished mahogany and soft lamps. An enormous desk dominated the center of the room.

Behind it sat a woman who seemed to command the entire room without a word. The nameplate before her read Gloria Morell.

Wade caught his breath. She wasn’t what he’d imagined at all. Gloria looked to be in her early sixties, with short, perfectly styled gray hair and an impeccable posture. A dark, tailored suit framed her composed figure.

Silence settled in. Gloria kept her eyes down, her pen moving across the page. Wade shifted; the faint scratch of her writing was the only sound. Jerry burst in and clapped Wade on the shoulder. “Here’s our shining star! Although his shine is very small, if you know what I mean.” He laughed.

Gloria’s pen stopped. She raised an eyebrow—just a flick—and Jerry’s laughter died in his throat.

Only then did she finish the page, set down her pen, and turn her gaze to Wade. She took her time looking at him.

“Mr. Smith,” her voice was calm. “Please sit”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wade whispered. He perched on the edge of the leather chair, hands pressed tight together, knuckles white. His knee bounced—he tried to still it, failed.

Jerry dropped into the seat beside him, slouching with practiced ease. Lea remained standing, her hands folded behind her back.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” she said coldly.
Wade’s skin prickled. The room felt colder than it had a second ago.

“I watched your scene three times.” She leaned back, perfectly composed.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. He couldn’t meet her eyes for more than a second.

“The size-humiliation category has always been a mystery to me,” Gloria said. “So many performers fall short of what the fans really want. But you…” She paused and gave him a sharp look. “But you actually delivered.”

Wade’s palms began to sweat. He had stood naked beneath studio lights while forty people laughed at him, yet somehow sitting fully dressed across from Gloria felt even more exposing.

“I can’t tell whether you were simply lucky or whether you’re genuinely a natural at this.” She leaned forward, studying him. “There’s only one way to find out.” She paused, holding his gaze. “Stand up.”

Wade obeyed before he could reconsider.

“Take off your pants,” Gloria said, her tone almost casual.

“Sorry?” Wade stared at her, wondering if he’d heard correctly.

“I need to see what we’re working with. Trousers down. Now.”

Objections filled his mind, but his hands moved to his belt. He couldn’t find the words to refuse her. His pants slipped to the floor, leaving him in his boxers.

“All the way,” Gloria said with an unreadable expression.

Wade paused and looked at Jerry, who smiled softly and gave him an encouraging nod. Wade hesitated, then looked at her and nodded tensely. His fingers trembled as he pushed his underwear down. Under Gloria’s clinical gaze, his small penis shrank, barely visible.

“Hmm. It’s even smaller in person.” She said.

Jerry coughed and stole a glance. Lea pressed her lips together.

Gloria rose from her chair and circled her desk, her gaze sweeping over Wade from head to toe. She stopped in front of him. “Jerry, come here.”

Jerry walked over. “Yes?”

“Do you think our cameras can capture his full size?” she asked, gesturing toward Wade’s crotch.

Jerry leaned closer, studying Wade’s penis with exaggerated scrutiny. “It’s certainly compact,” he said. “We’ll need to adjust the camera distance and angle to make it more visible.”

Wade looked at the floor and wished that he could just disappear.

“Lea,” Gloria said, “bring me the ruler from my desk drawer.”

Lea produced a small wooden ruler, and Wade’s heart sank. “Measure his—cock…, I mean his penis,” Gloria corrected herself.

Lea knelt in front of him and took his penis between her two fingers. Wade flinched. “Hold still, Wade. Don’t be a naughty boy,” she teased, setting the ruler against his penis. “One inch!” she announced, smiling with delight.

“Fully soft, I assume?” Gloria asked.

Wade nodded miserably.

“Good. The smaller the starting point, the more surprising the contrast when it… well, if it grows.”

“Turn around,” Gloria said.

Wade turned.

“Soft,” she observed, examining his chubby butt. “That’s fitting.”

Shame flushed Wade’s face as Gloria examined him from every angle. When he looked up, he saw Lea holding her phone, taking pictures.

“Why… why are you taking pictures?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“For reference,” Gloria replied, “we need to get the lighting and angles just right to make the scenes as impactful as possible.”

Lea kept snapping pictures of Wade’s body, her grin growing with each click. She moved in closer. “Okay, little Wade — give me your best embarrassed-king pose.” She crouched and took a close-up. “Don’t worry, it’s for artistic purposes.” Another click. “Though I might make it my wallpaper and show my friends the mighty king and his tiny sword.”

Wade’s face was burning. He tried to cover himself with his hands, but that only made Lea chuckle harder. “That’s adorable, but hands off the masterpiece; we have work to do.”

“Keep it Professional, Lea,” Gloria said, returning to her seat and starting to write on a notepad.

Wade stood naked in her office in the middle of the afternoon, his trousers pooled around his ankles. There was a moment of silence. No one said a word.

At last, he ventured, “Should I—”

“Mm?” Gloria glanced up, as though she’d forgotten there was a pantless man in her office. “Oh, yes. Put them back on.”

He reached for his trousers. His belt buckle clinked against the chair leg, and he fumbled with it twice. He was still struggling to pull on his pants when Gloria spoke up, completely unfazed. “One thousand a scene.”

Wade froze, then glanced up while still bent over. “Sorry?”

Gloria rested her hands on the desk, her gaze steady and her voice firm. “One thousand dollars per scene, with four scenes guaranteed each month. You’ll also receive ten percent of the revenue generated by your videos. Based on your performance in your first scene, you could earn between six and eight thousand dollars a month.”

Wade stopped with his trousers. His eyes widened. In that moment, he forgot the humiliation, forgot he was naked, forgot everything. Eight thousand. Double his engineer’s salary. Eight grand. He stood there with his pants between his knees; thoughts spun: mortgage, bills, loans, Emma, Samantha, even the chicken.

He cleared his throat. “I… I have one condition.” He said like a desperate child

Before he could finish, Gloria interrupted. “Your face blurred, your name unrevealed. Of course, Mr. Smith.” Her tone was so assured.

Wade blinked.

“Something else?”

“No”

“Good.” She shot a look behind him. “Lea.” The papers”

Lea stepped forward, laid the papers before Wade, and pressed a pen into his trembling hand. For a moment, Wade just stared at the contract. His name was already typed at the bottom, waiting. He glanced at Gloria, then at Lea, and finally at his own hands. In those few seconds, pride and shame wrestled within him. He understood what this meant: he was about to become a porn star—a man paid, week after week, to let strangers laugh at his small penis. The humiliation would be recorded, replayed, and shared.

His throat tightened as the silence closed in. He could already imagine the comments, the memes, the jokes. He’d become the tiny-dicked clown.

And yet…

His daughter’s voice echoed in his mind. Mortgage, groceries, birthday presents. No pitying from Luna. No letting Patrick become the man who provides everything Wade can’t.

With a shuddering breath, Wade signed.

The silence hung for a beat.

He set the pen down, hands still shaking, and stared at the contract. It was done. He was officially a porn star.

Gloria wore a satisfied smile. “Congratulations, Mr. Smith. Welcome to Glory Moaning Productions”

Then Jerry burst into clapping, grinning from ear to ear. “That’s it, my friend.” He slung an arm over Wade’s shoulder. “You and me are going to be like Scorsese and De Niro. I’ll make sure they get your good side—and your small side. Don’t worry about it.” He snorted.

Wade forced a smile. “Well, that’s kind of you.”

“Friday,” Gloria said, studying the page. “Ten o’clock. Don’t be late, Mr. Smith.”

Wade nodded. “I won’t.” He turned toward the door and reached for the handle.

“Mr. Smith,” a voice called.

He paused and looked back. “Yes?”

Gloria’s gaze never left the page. “Your trousers.”

Wade glanced down. “Oh.” His trousers were pooled around his knees. He’d signed the contracts completely naked, his shriveled penis lost in his pubic hair. He bent to haul up his trousers, opened the door, and made for his car.

He slid into the driver’s seat and caught his breath. He stared at his reflection for a long moment. “It’s really happening,” he whispered. Then he let out a harsh laugh. The respectable engineer, the father, became a freshly signed porn star.

He started the car and drove away to his humiliating new future.

To Be Continued…?