I didn’t plan on it, but my girlfriend, Karen, met my mother a few weeks ago. Nothing is worse than being forced to look at photos from your childhood with your girlfriend and your mother.

It was torture, and after the evening was over, Karen’s attitude toward me had turned. In fact, I didn’t hear from her again. I know why, it was the goddamned nude pictures of me. Hell, I was only seven at the time, but there I was stark naked.

I can remember my mother’s reaction. “Oh my, Danny! I almost forgot how small you were!”

My heart sank as I realised that I had slammed into a brick wall. Here was my girlfriend of only two weeks, looking at very unflattering pictures of me.

“Yep, Danny was a late bloomer. So cute, a very little shmackel, just like his father.”

They both laughed at my expense. I was speechless. I couldn’t believe my mother had actually said that in front of my girlfriend. I felt so belittled.

After the evening was over, I drove Karen home, kissed her goodnight and saw her off. That was the last I had heard of her. Of course, I had tried ringing her all week but had had no luck.

I eventually cornered her in between classes and asked her why she hadn’t been returning my calls. “Look, Danny, I’m sorry, but I just don’t think we’re compatible. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Karen said.

I couldn’t believe it. As she left me standing there with my jaw hanging open, I began to wonder if it was the baby photos of me that helped her reach that decision. I began to obsess about her, frequently visiting her Facebook page and jerking off to the pictures of her. As I jerked it, I wondered what it would’ve been like to have actually had her. I wept as I put on my gym socks.

What I didn’t know was that Karen was having a good time, telling all her friends about my ‘little shmackel’ as my mother had so eloquently put it. Apparently, she had told a small circle of friends, and the rumours spread from there.

The day I discovered something wasn’t right was the day I lost my manhood. I remember it vividly. I was in the cafeteria and as I passed the cheerleader squad, they all began to whisper, snicker and giggle amongst themselves. In fact, they were also pointing at me. I had no idea what was so hysterical, so I decided to approach them and ask.

Before I could say anything, one of them said, “How’s your little shmackel?”

Everyone laughed.

They could barely contain themselves.

I was humiliated, my face turned three shades of red. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I squeaked.

Although it only happened in a matter of seconds, it felt as though time stood still. I made a prompt exit with my tail between my legs. Later that day, I decided to approach Karen about the whole situation.

“I can’t believe you told everyone that I had a little dick!” I said.

“Umm, I don’t know what you’re on about,” Karen said, obviously lying.

“I was seven years old! That’s not me, Karen! You should have just given me a chance! Do you have any idea what you have done to me? To my reputation!?” I was very upset at that point.

“Get over yourself, Danny. I didn’t tell the cheerleader squad about your babydick, don’t blame me.” Karen was calm, cool and collected.

“Well, someone told them!” I shouted at her.

“Yeah, I admit, I told some friends about it. I didn’t think they would tell anyone else. It was all just a bit of silly fun,” she said.

“Silly fun?? They’re all calling me little shmackel!”

“No offence, but my brother is seven and his ‘shmackel’ is probably at least four times bigger. You can say that you were a late bloomer, but I’ve never noticed any kind of bulge in your pants.” It was clear to me then that she wanted to hurt me. She smiled upon finishing.

Hurt, I walked away, wondering what on earth would possess her to go out of her way to humiliate me like that publicly. It didn’t make any sense to me.

Later that night, as I sat at my computer, jerking to her Facebook page, I realised that the recent events of the day made me horny, very horny. As I jerked it to her image, I began to imagine her laughing about my penis and telling all her friends that I was hung like a peanut. It was the quickest and most intense ‘jerk-off’ session I had ever had. Thus, my obsession with the small penis humiliation fetish and with her grew.

Each evening, I would jerk off to the recent events of the day. More than likely, someone would be giggling at me or would be whispering and pointing. It was usually a group of girls. I would imagine stripping down and exposing myself to all of them, “God! That would be hot! I wonder what they would do? They would laugh! Ahh, they would, mpf! Argh!”

As the weeks passed, people soon became tired of the joke and eventually stopped teasing me. Despite becoming a social outcast, I still wanted it to continue. I wanted to fuel the fire.

I noticed that many of my former Facebook friends had now blocked me, and I could no longer see their pages. Karen was the first to block me. This stung, more so because she was my primary source of humiliation.

I decided to make one final hoorah! To humiliate myself once and for all.

At the end of the semester, there was always a big party at Henry Deehan’s house. This year, however, I wasn’t invited…. go figure. Regardless, I decided to go and see what would happen.

At first, Henry was surprised to see me, but he eventually dismissed the fact, which was good because I really wanted to find Karen and put an end to this once and for all.

I planned to corner her, drop my pants and show her the goods. I made sure to be extra small that night. I put a frozen bag of peas down my pants, which would most certainly shrink me good. Hell, my reputation was over; I might as well destroy it with a bang!

And there she was, in the kitchen with a small group of her friends. This was my chance; it was now or never. I casually walked up to them.

They all noticed me coming and turned to face me. My heart was beating so fast, my hands were shaking, and I was breathing so heavily. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity.

Eventually, Karen said, “Yeah?”

This was my moment.

I undid my top button, unzipped my pants and pulled them down.

No laughter.

Everyone gasped.

Not quite the reaction I was hoping for.

In fact, everyone looked disgusted, mortified.

“You need to see a shrink! You’ve got serious mental problems.” Karen said.

With that, they all turned away, ignoring me, continuing with their conversation.

I turned to look behind me, and everyone was in awe, shocked that I would actually do such a thing. No one laughed; everyone actually looked sorry for me.

Someone in the background shouted out, “Sick fuck!”

Someone else shouted, “Fucking loser!”

That’s when Henry came up to me and said, “I think you should leave, Danny.”

Embarrassed, I pulled my pants up and slowly walked out of there. Everyone stared as I slowly made my way through the crowd.

I turned to face the party. “So no one found my shmackel funny?” I asked.

Silence.

Later that night, I cried. It’s not the way I wanted it to happen. Yes, I did humiliate myself, but I pictured it differently in my mind. I pictured everyone pointing and laughing. I pictured everyone making small penis jokes.

Instead, I got cold crystal stares.

My fantasy took over. Next time, I’ll keep it to myself.

 

The End.

 

 

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