Humiliated Star 1: Dignity Stolen
A Fictional SPH Story by PinkyDick_Tells.
Wade was a slightly chubby man who usually wore a classic shirt and trousers. His neighbors liked him; they described him as nice, polite, calm, and always ready to help.
Since divorcing Lucy, he had been living alone in his house, while his daughter Emma lived with her mother in Wade’s old house, where he had left all his memories.
One night, Wade sat on the couch at home. Finally, after a long week of work, he got his day off. His body sank into the cushions as he enjoyed the rare quiet.
His phone buzzed suddenly; he looked at the screen and saw his boss’s name, Eric.
Eric started complaining about one of the company’s latest projects; Alex, Wade’s co-worker, led it. Eric pointed out that all the calculations in a certain section were incorrect. Wade told him he had already finished his section and that Alex had made the wrong calculations. Eric didn’t care and just wanted it fixed. As always, Wade complied, even if it meant doing someone else’s work.
The light from Wade’s laptop lit his face as he adjusted the project. He checked the calculations to make sure they were correct. He reached for his coffee and took a sip, hoping the caffeine would help him focus. Suddenly, a dog barked outside. Wade jumped while holding the cup and spilled the coffee on his crotch.
“Ah shit, shit, fucking hell,” he hissed.
He stood up and started to rub his crotch as he was whining in pain.
“Why?! Why there?!”
The dog barked again.
“SHUT UP!”
His phone rang. Still half bent over, clutching his crotch, Wade looked at the screen and saw Luna’s name. He sighed before answering.
“Hello?” Wade said through gritted teeth.
“Wade, I am calling just to remind you about Emma’s school payment.
“Okay,” Wade groaned, brushing his pants.
“I want the money sent as soon as possible.”
“Mmm, I said okay. Luna, it will be sent.”
Wade grabbed a wet towel and pressed it to his crotch; he let out a long breath. Luna continued talking, then she mentioned her boyfriend, Patric.
“Patric was saying that there is a better school in the city and has a better payment system.”
Wade’s expression changed immediately; he forgot all the pain.
“Patric said that.” his jaw tightened. “I am busy right now; we will talk later, but I chose this school for Emma, and she will not transfer.”
He hung up before she could respond.
Very slowly, he placed the phone face down on the table. Then he sat back down. He settled back into his work and adjusted the project. The doorbell rang. Wade didn’t expect anyone, so he checked his watch, wondering who would come at this hour. Wade opened the door; his expression softened almost immediately.
It was Samantha, his neighbor. She was 38, with blond hair, a warm expression, and a curvy figure. Wade and Samantha had a straightforward relationship. She knew he lived alone, and Wade knew she lived with her 8-year-old child, Edward. When Samantha was running late, Wade sometimes drove Edward to school. She occasionally brought Wade food. These were small acts of kindness exchanged between two divorced neighbors.
She stood outside the house, holding a plate.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hi.” Wade glanced at the plate.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Cookies”
“Really for me?” He took a cookie from the plate and tasted it.
Samantha smiled.
“Oh, that’s so good. Thank you, really”
“You look like you really need something sweet,” she joked, looking at his pants.
Wade looked down and saw a small wet spot on his pants; his shirt was unbuttoned, and his hair was messy.
“It’s obvious, huh,” Wade said, a bite of cookie in his mouth.
“A little bit.” She chuckled
He smiled.
“Do you want to come in? I can make coffee.”, Wade said, hoping she would accept.
Samantha glanced back toward her house.
“I can’t. Edward’s home alone. I just wanted to drop these off.” Her tone was apologetic.
“Yeah, of course,” Wade said, disappointment in his voice.
“Goodnight, Wade.” She waved.
“Goodnight.” Wade waved back.
Samantha walked back toward her house. Wade remained in the doorway. He couldn’t take his eyes off the way her hips moved as she walked, so he slapped his face. “Focus.” he looked back at his desk, took a deep breath, and went back to work.
Wade sat for two hours working on the project. It was very late; he started to feel a bit tired, so he decided to take a break and continue tomorrow. Wade went to the kitchen to grab a drink; from the window, he saw Samantha sleeping on her living room sofa. She wore a thin tank top and leggings. Her round and soft butt was pressed against the cushion and directed towards Wade’s window, and her small feet and pinkish soles were too much for Wade to handle.
“Oh my lord,” Wade whispered, heat rising through his body. He knew that it was inappropriate, but his body was betraying him, and his cock started to harden. It had been two years since Wade had sex, two years nobody touched him, nobody cared about him, nobody kept his bed warm—two years of work, empty evenings, and convincing himself that being alone didn’t bother him.
“Fuck it,” he said, rushing back to the laptop and sitting on his couch. He clicked on a pornsite, searching for a video that felt close enough to the image in his head. Blond hair, curvy hips, cute face,e and soft smile; he found one naked woman rubbing herself. The video started, soft moans filling the room. Wade lowered his pants as he was watching. He was rushed and stressed, and he needed release, so he took off his underwear. The woman was moaning, and his laptop was balanced on his bare lap, and between his chubby thighs was his hard penis. Wade had a small penis; it was really tiny and pink and shaped like an acorn. It was short and didn’t even reach his small balls.
Wade wrapped three fingers around it and started stroking. His strokes grew faster; his hips lifted slightly off the couch, his breathing grew heavier with each stroke, and he closed his eyes and bit his lip. He was on the edge.
BANG.
Wade froze. His hand was still wrapped around his dick. He opened his eyes and slowly looked down the hall. A tall masked man rushed into the living room holding a gun.
“Hands up, don’t move,” said the masked man, holding the gun toward Wade. His voice was rough and low.
Wade yanked his hands from his dick and lifted them as he was shaking and scared. His jeans still pooled around his thighs, his tiny dick completely exposed between his legs.
“Okay, okay… please… okay, I understand.”
Wade’s body was so cold. He looked down at his penis. It was shrinking from the cold, nearly disappearing. He tried to cover it. Wade thought, what if I die and people find me like that?
“Hands where I can see them,” the man said, waving the gun.
Wade nervously raised them again.
“My wallet is on the table. There’s about a hundred dollars inside. Take the cards too. Take the laptop if you want,” Wade said desperately with a shaky voice.
The masked man paused; he glanced toward the wallet, and then his eye drifted down from Wade’s face straight to his exposed groin. The man’s expression changed. He stared at Wade’s little nub.
“That’s it?” the man said, surprised.
“Yeah, that’s all I have… The wallet, my wallet. Don’t carry much cash, I mean carry much cash,” Wade stutters.
“No,” the man said, nodding his head toward Wade’s crotch. “I mean your… cock. That’s all of it.”
Wade’s mouth dropped open. He stared at him, then down at his own soft, small penis resting against his balls, then back up at the man. His fear slowly gave way to relief. “Look, man, seriously. Just focus on your job, and please keep it professional,” Wade’s tone was sharp.
The masked man lowered his gun and slowly took off his mask, revealing his face.
“Why are you taking off your mask?” Wade asked, confused.
“You know what”? the man said dramatically, looking emotionally taken aback. “I am ungrateful,” the man continued. “I have been complaining a lot about my life, about how things are going with me.”
Wade stared at the man. He was sitting naked, listening, not understanding what was happening.
“Man, just take 100 bucks and leave. I won’t tell the police,” Wade’s voice was laced with embarrassment and annoyance.
The man looked at Wade, tears in his eyes.
“I am sorry,” the man cried. “After complaining and complaining and complaining, I realized that I am not cursed.” He looked at Wade’s little penis. “I have so much to be grateful for.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Wade said.
“I just now see that there are people who barely have anything and are still able to live and build their lives. Thank you, man, thank you,” he sniffed, wiped his eyes, and slowly walked out of the house.
Wade sat silently for a while, his pants still around his feet. He looked down at his penis, then at the broken door, then back at his penis. He had never felt more humiliated. He leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.
‘The only thing he stole was my dignity,’ he thought.
To Be Continued…?
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