A Beta Biography 1
So this is a story of me realizing that I am a small-dick beta male and have always been one. I didn’t realize this for a long time. I was a tri-sport athlete in high school and went to college on a scholarship until I got hurt. Then things began to come clear to me.
So first things first, my name is Don, Don Jr. To be more specific, since my dad is also Don. My dad was always your typical Midwestern tough guy kind of dad. He never said anything encouraging; whatever you did need to be better.
So after I hurt myself, I had to move home and recover from the surgery. I was given a regimen to manage the pain. Stretches and an as-needed pain med. Within a few weeks, depression set in, and I was also given meds for that. My father was not understanding, nor did he believe in mental health. He thought I was a big baby. Due to the friction at home during my recovery period and my general malaise, I wasn’t much fun to be around. My emotional instability caused much friction between me and my then-girlfriend Chelsea.
Chelsea was 5’3″ and very petite. She was an A-cup and wore a size two. All of her weight was pretty much in her booty. Not to say it was fat, but it was the only part of her that jiggled and bit when she was naked. She had long black hair and beautiful blue eyes. She was supportive during my injury and recovery, but the problem was more with me. I overlooked all the issues I had caused when I was feeling great. As I began to bad about myself, they became obvious, and as an immature jerk, I tended to make that her fault.
Sexuality was the biggest difference. Chelsea loved sex. She rode and sucked me every day before my injury. It was heaven. She would get frustrated on top of me sometimes because she would get so wet, I would slip out, and Chelsea couldn’t bounce on my dick. She had to grind back and forth and use my skin as friction against her clit if she wanted to cum. I didn’t think much of this at that time because, in my mind, I was the perfect male specimen.
I thought I was modestly hung or at least average, and I had been raised to think that going down on a girl deserved a thank you. Not what you did to be a good lover. After my injury, I was given pain meds, and at first, I couldn’t achieve an erection. Chelsea would always ask me to go down on her, but I was childish and upset and lashed out at the whole world. That meant her too.
So to clarify, in our two years together, I went down on my loving, beautiful, and caring girlfriend a few enough times to count on one hand. Meanwhile, she always gave me head, even when I wasn’t getting hard, and we both knew I wouldn’t. I would pretend like I could, and she would try for a long time before finally giving up. She constantly tried to make me feel better about it, but I always sniped at her and blamed her, which caused her mood to sadden, and we would part ways with her holding back tears and me blaming her somehow.
Finally, after two months, I could get hard, but I couldn’t cum, (likely due to the antidepressants). I also noticed – but didn’t want to believe – that the size of my erection was diminished (more on that later). We tried to have sex, but I could tell right away when we started that I wouldn’t be able to cum. I was too selfish to care about my sexually frustrated and neglected girlfriend. I offered to go down on her once, but it wasn’t an earnest offer, and she refused, picking up on my tone and not wanting me to do her any favors.
Another month came and went, and we still hadn’t had satisfying sex. I had lost all interest. The few times I was horny, I couldn’t cum, and the shame of having a dick that didn’t work made me aghast at just doing something for her. Well, that and my general arrogance. At this point, she had had enough. She told me she would leave me if I didn’t start talking to someone and get my shit together. We were still young. She was 18, and I was 19. This was no way to live. She wanted to fuck her boyfriend. She didn’t care if I ever threw a baseball again. She just wanted me to stop ruining myself and us.
She got very aggressive, even a little dominant, with me, which slightly turned me on, but I couldn’t tell you why. Then she mentioned that if she couldn’t get emotional or physical relief soon, she would likely do something stupid. She let that hang in the air. I knew what she meant. I thought of my roommate, whom I was planning on living with again this next year had always crushed on her. His name was Blake, and he didn’t hide his attraction for her. The images of them kissing and fucking flashed in my brain. And my dick jumped. It was hard. Harder than I’ve been in months.
I stood up and tried to assert sexual dominance with my newfound erection. I pushed Chelsea (lightly) into the wall. And began kissing her aggressively. She moaned in excitement and kissed back. Our hands explored each other, running through her hair and jawline before getting to her nice little ass and pulling down her sweatpants. Hers went right to my shorts and boxers, down in a flash, and my firm dick was in her hand.
I realized then, too, that my dick didn’t even fill up her hand. It was the width of two of her fingers with a bit to spare and the length of her palm or middle finger. She didn’t say anything, but she did look down for a second before continuing the kiss. Neither knew then what got me hard, but here I was. I slowly inserted my fingers into her wet slit and was gratified at her moistness, she moaned, and I slowly worked my way in and out with my two fingers and then moved my middle up to her clit and began to rub using her fluids as a barrier to prevent friction burns.
Then I picked her up and carried her to my bed. I heard commotion downstairs from my parents, so I locked the door and pretended nothing was happening. After I got her on the bed, I went to do my patented kiss and insert move, but she pushed my shoulders back and shook her head.
“You owe me. Get down there and make it count,” Chelsea said and smiled to take the sting out of her words.
The dominance, though, again made my dick jump. She didn’t say anything if she noticed it, but I was beginning to put two and two together. I put a blanket down so my knees didn’t get rug burn and did what weak men do. I ate her pussy.
Even though I know that’s a backward mentality about oral sex, the notion was ingrained in my 19-year-old brain, making it hotter. I had been “The Man” my entire life, captain of the baseball team, basketball team, and quarterback for the football team. I was popular. Girls always flirted with me. I was invited to every party. The mere notion that I wasn’t good at something or even that I wasn’t physically perfect in every way never occurred to me. Yet here I was on my knees, using my tongue to do what my dick couldn’t. I was leaking pre-cum already, and this feeling of inferiority and my blanket was beginning to rub against me making it feel good. I started bucking my hips as she moaned from my mouth.
I had never thought of myself as having a huge dick, probably a large average. However, I was probably lucky to call my size five inches when I think about it. I had easily lost an inch with these new meds. Similarly, I never thought about how long it took me to cum. I was a teenager, so I figured most guys were about the same as me, probably not even as long as me.
Chelsea began buckling her hips into my face, and I upped my intensity. I used the tip of my tongue. I sucked hard when I needed air and intermittently used the rough part of my tongue. I was getting into this. My hips were bucking against the blanket as more pre-cum dripped from me.
“Right there, baby! Yes!”
She grabbed the back of my head and pulled my hair while forcing me into her button clit. Her whole body tensed up, and mine along with it. My dick bounced as she said she was cumming loudly. I bucked my hips again, and the blanket brushed it so gently and smoothly that my legs gave out. As she came on my face and let go, I collapsed on the floor and came on myself. Rope after rope of my pent-up cum hit my stomach, blanket, and bedroom carpet.
She sat up and looked nervously at my spasming body, worried I had gone hypoxic, only to laugh at me when I rolled over, coated in my cum and inferiority.
“Eating my perfect little pussy made you cum? Wow. I feel so powerful.”
She wasn’t mad. She was enjoying this.
I just looked up at her, unable to speak. My post-nut clarity was setting in, and shame with it. What kind of a man cums from a blanket and eats pussy? Why was this self-frustration turning me on again? These thoughts swam through my mind as she pulled me up to cuddle her in her post-orgasm bliss.
Chapter two end of summer and beginning of school.
As the summer drew on, Chelsea and I tried to rekindle the physical aspects of our relationship, but she wasn’t naturally a dominant type of person. I wasn’t fully aware that that was what I needed. At least not openly. When she wasn’t around, I had gotten into watching femdom porn, which had even led to some SPH and cuckolding. It got me full hard, but it still didn’t click.
Eventually, one day I thought long and hard about measuring myself. I never had before, but as I was being directed to more and more small penis humiliation videos through the various algorithms, I became curious, so I grabbed a tape measure and dropped my boxers to my ankles. Before I could go through with it, Chelsea walked into my house and called for me.
It was the last day of summer before her, and I would have to drive back to school tomorrow and go through the various house agreements with my roommate Blake. Even though she wasn’t on the lease and technically had a dorm, we expected her to spend most nights with me. I wanted to make sure Blake was aware of that and that he was at least conscious of trying to avoid any awkward situations at night or in the shower, etc.
She walked up the steps to my room, and as she walked, I grew nervous. I froze there, an erection from the hour or so of SPH femdom and a tape measure in my hands when the door began to open. I threw the tape measure away from me like it was on fire, it landed on the bed, and I quickly pulled up my boxers and closed the laptop when she walked in and greeted me.
“Hey babe, whatcha doing?” she asked.
She wore a thin spaghetti strap tank top with a punk band logo on the front and very short yellow gym shorts that barely covered her squishy ass. Her long legs had a bit of a tan to add to their enticing nature.
“Measuring myself,” I said in a panic, and immediately my eyes grew to the size of saucers.
“Measuring what?…your…your thing?” she asked after fully assessing the situation.
She held her hand to her mouth and tried to hold back a giggle. She failed. I nodded apprehensively, thinking the cat was out of the proverbial bag. I worried this might lead to a discussion about us that I didn’t want to have.
“Why? You’re plenty big down there. At least for me,” she said and then quickly followed it with, “Not that size matters or anything.”
“No, I know,” I said confidently, believing the old standard phrases for guys with small dicks or that can’t fuck. “But I don’t know, I was curious. The average is like 5.5 inches, so how do I stack up? Just something I was bored and curious about.”
As I said this, even I started to believe it. I had almost forgotten that I was in the middle of rubbing one out to a pornhub Goddess who had said some very mean things about men under 7 inches.
“5.5 inches is average? Huh, that seems small. Well, I’m sure you’re at least that big,” she said without thinking. “Not that I think you’re small!” she quickly added.
I had been losing wood from the chit-chat, and after that bit of unintentional teasing, I was back at full mast and ready to measure again.
“Well, do you wanna help? Or make it like a bet?”
I was trying to think of a way to make this fun for us. I knew I hadn’t been a great boyfriend in any aspect lately. Still, in the intimacy department, I had been especially disappointing to her this summer, only having achieved a handful of erections and mostly cumming within a few pumps and refusing to eat her out to protect my pride.
She smiled, laughed a bit at this absurdity, and shook her head yes. “Sure, why not. Let’s get the tape measure.”
She grabbed the tape measure off the bed before getting on her knees and pulling my boxers down to where my dick sprung out and bobbed itself as if it agreed with what we were doing.
“Oh wow, you’re excited. I haven’t seen this in a while,” Chelsea said lovingly, but it stung.
Of course, that sting made my dick twitch, but she didn’t notice since she was looking up at me to gauge my response. She kissed the head of my circumcised dick and pulled the tape measure to six inches.
“Okay, so this is average and some change,” she said before looking down. We realized I might be below average as we had previously thought. “Hmm, it looks kinda big for six inches. Do you have another ruler or anything?” she asked.
I shook my head, no, and she shrugged as she laid it against my pubic bone and measured to the tip. “Isn’t there a specific angle or something I should measure from?”
“You’re supposed to go from underneath it, but it’s fine. We can do both ways. What’s it say?” I asked, afraid to look down and see her face.
Still, though, I peaked. Chelsea looked surprised and disappointed at once. “Umm, well… it’s not like size matters, as I said earlier, but you’re a bit below average,” she said.
“Well yeah, I mean six inches is kinda big, you even said, but why did you pull it out more? I’m barely more than half the tape measure,” I said.
She had hidden the numbers with her hand, so I couldn’t see where I was or where the tape measure ended.
“I don’t know if I should tell you. It’s unimportant,” she stood up and closed the tape measure kissing me passionately. Her hand moved down and cupped my dick and balls as she played with them. “Besides, I can think of a better use for your dick than on that cold aluminum tape measure.” And she put her tongue back in my mouth.
I kissed her back, matching her passion and biting her lower lip. I would get that number from her, but it seemed like a great opportunity to use my erection for something good. She pushed me back onto the bed, showing a hint of dominance from before, and quickly removed her shorts. She was wearing nothing underneath them, so a beautiful bald pussy is what I saw as she walked toward me and dropped it into my mouth.
“Eat it,” she said, no argument allowed.
Her domineering attitude was too much to resist, and I began to lick and poke with my tongue as best I could. I felt her wetness drip down my lips and chin, and she slowly repositioned herself and me to where her little button was directly over my mouth as she humped my face.
“Yess. That’s right, use your tongue, just like that. Now suck it. Ahhh! Now nibble it a bit… gently. Aaahhh,” she moaned and lightly screamed, yelping even as an orgasm that had evaded her for several weeks began to build.
My dick felt drips of pre-cum dribbling down from the head, and I could feel Chelsea’s juices dripping onto my neck and chest. Her hands raised to the back of my head, and she grabbed and pulled herself closer. Her cunt nearly swallowed the lower third of my face as she rubbed her clit against the rough part of my tongue. When I needed air, I just sucked in on her clit and nibbled a bit, driving her wild, and then let go, and she went back to fucking my face.
Finally, she pulled on my hair so hard I thought it would come. She passionately screamed, flooding the room as she came aggressively over my face. It dripped down my smooth face and onto my neck and chest. It tasted good. I wondered why I hadn’t been doing this the whole time. She rolled over with beads of sweat dripping down her A-cup chest. Her nipples were tiny but fully aroused, and her stomach went up and down as she had just finished a distance run.
“That was amazing. I told you size didn’t matter, sweetie.”
And she rolled over and kissed me deeply on the mouth, using my tongue for something more wholesome after having just owned it for the last thirty minutes. She reached her hand down and felt the puddle of pre-cum around my still fully stiff dick and smiled.
“Someone else liked it too, I see,” and she began to use the pre-cum as lube for a tender handjob.
She gripped firmly but without the hard pressing that I used sometimes and began to stroke me up and down. Her entire hand could engulf my dick from my vantage, but I didn’t want to distract her. She squeezed and tried to jerk, but there wasn’t enough room for her four fingers to do so simultaneously. She didn’t normally give me handjobs, so this was a departure from her comfort zone.
“Use just the thumb and two fingers,” I told her as a helpful tip.
In reality, one of my jerk-off videos told me I HAD to jerk it like this or use my hand like a girl does. I hadn’t tried that yet, but the fact that my girlfriend, with her tiny hands, had to use the two fingers was even hotter than me being told to by a dominant big tittied goth girl online.
She smiled, kissed me deeply again, and did as I suggested. I threw my head back in pleasure as she slowly two fingers jerked me. Her kisses ran down my chest before she found my erect nipples and sucked and bit them. Then she popped off them and smiled warmly.
“You like this baby?” she asked.
I nodded, afraid to open my eyes as the pleasure continued to build. I could feel a big release coming, making my legs weak and my spine contorted.
“You still wanna know what the tape measure said?” she asked, picking up the pace.
I groaned out a yes, but at this point, my focus was mostly on her magical dexterous fingers that were bringing me such pleasure.
“Are you sure? You’re not gonna get upset if I tell you?” she was playing now, knowing she had me completely at her mercy.
If she stopped jerking right now, I would probably cry like a baby, so I nodded again, confirming that I would be a good boy no matter what she said. Then she stopped jerking for a second, ensuring she had my full attention. I opened my eyes and convulsed a bit. I tried humping the air, but she moved her hand down to my balls which had nearly risen into my body. They were never my biggest feature to begin with, only about the size of marbles, and as I was about to cum they usually raised so much that it was a smooth little undercarriage for my dick.
She rubbed it like she would a girl’s vulva and said seductively that I was ten centimeters. Then moved her hand up and gave me two more strokes, and kissed me again before saying, “That’s under 4 inches.”
She pulled her hand away, and I humped the air. She rubbed the bottom of my bellend with her index finger for a second and kissed me again.
I grew stiff and felt my orgasm coming up from my balls. I tried to grab onto something and moan at the same time. Still, Chelsea’s other hand stopped mine from grabbing her, and her tongue in my mouth prevented me from making much noise except for into her mouth. Jet after jet of cum spilled out of my dick. I was coated in it within a few moments.
“You liked that?” she said curiously.
“Yes, baby, that was great,” I said, unsure how to proceed.
The post-nut clarity was again setting in. This time though, I had no problem with going down on Chelsea. I even liked it. I was concerned about whether we would be playing up this small dick thing a little more or if this was a one-off. And I didn’t know how to ask her if we could keep it part of our routine.
We lay in bed for a while after and talked. Not about anything that had just happened. At least not initially, but just about what we were hoping for in the new school year if I would try and play baseball again, things like this.
Finally, as Chelsea began to stir to get up and start getting stuff packed for our drive tomorrow, I asked her, “Have you ever wished I had a bigger dick?”
“Umm, no, not really. Sometimes, when we’re out drinking, and you jump right in since you refuse to go down me most of the time, I wish you would hit a little deeper. Still, honey, I never even knew your size until today. I can’t say I spent much time thinking about it. I love you; your dick is part of you, so I love it too. Do you wish you had a bigger dick?” she asked after a pause.
She had just said the sweetest thing she could to me, and all I was thinking about was how I could get her to be mean to me moving forward sexually. I wondered if that made me selfish or not. I decided that it was immaterial because this might be my best chance to advance our sex game. Since she liked me going down on her so much, maybe if I did it more, she would be more inclined to give me this weird thing I wanted. This thought process all occurred within seconds. I must have looked silly debating what was probably to her an easy question for so long.
“Well yeah, I guess, but honestly. I like the idea of you teasing me for it. Is that weird?”
“You like what? Me teasing you for…your penis size? That seems mean,” she said with a cocked eyebrow.
“I know it’s weird. I’m sorry.”
I was in full panic mode now. How had thirty minutes of snuggling not brought enough post-nut clarity to realize this was a huge mistake? I must have looked like a fucking weirdo to her.
“How does that work even? You want this?” she asked.
She wasn’t ruling it out. This may be the right decision. I had to be careful not to look too eager or reveal too much of myself.
“Well, it’s a whole subgenre of porn called small penis humiliation. It can sometimes be light and sweet, borderline encouraging, or mean. It just depends. But essentially, I want you to say things that are mean but not necessarily meant to hurt me.”
I hoped this made sense to her.
She looked at me with a cocked eyebrow, down at my fully flaccid dick, which had been reduced to little more than a pimple with two small marbles in a sack underneath it, and back at me.
“Hmm, when did this start? Have you always liked this?”
“Chelsea. I honestly have no idea. This summer was when I discovered it, but who knows,” I said, trying to be as honest as possible while still omitting that her mild domination awoke it in me. Though now it probably started even earlier.
“Well, I guess we can try it. You said there are videos?” Chelsea asked.
“Yeah, there’s a few hundred, haha.”
“Send me some. I will grab a few things and go home and shower after my run. Then tonight, you’re taking me to dinner, right?” I nodded my assent. “Well, what if we hit the road tonight and had a night in the house to ourselves before Blake arrived? I think I’d be more willing to try this thing all by ourselves where I didn’t have to worry about your stepdad or mom walking in on us or overhearing.”
I agreed, and we kissed goodbye. I quickly found three videos to send Chelsea. None were too mean or aggressive. But all were meaner than the small penis encouragement videos I had seen at first. One was of a girl with a really big ass demanding that her small dick boyfriend eat her ass and pussy since his pathetic cock couldn’t get her off, this was probably the meanest, but it was the one that I had rewatched the most since initially discovering the kink. Another was of a girl giving jerk-off instructions and even saying that some small dick beta’s needed to use their hands like a girl. And the last was of a couple having sex and the girl giving her partner some good teasing. At the same time, he tried and failed to please her before prematurely ejaculating.
She had gotten the texts and links but only said something for over two hours. Then she sent me a text that said, ‘This could be fun, lol. 😈😁’
An hour after that, she texted me saying she was ready for me to pick her up for our drive whenever. I left within a few minutes, and the second leg of my and Chelsea’s story was about to begin.
To Be Continued…
*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, formatting errors, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Even with the limited editing done here, it doesn’t mean any possible major flaws in this story were fixed (That’s the author’s job). The opinions/views expressed in this story (and in any comments) are those of the author and do not represent this site. We support freedom of speech. This story has been previously published on other free sites and is now public domain, which is why we can publish it here.