My girlfriend Sofia was a free spirit in every sense of the word. She was outgoing, outspoken, and had a vivacious, cheeky sense of humor. Always the life of the party with an overwhelmingly friendly persona. In other words, she flourishes in almost any social situation, whereas I am the complete opposite. I first met Sophia whilst waiting in line at the grocery store. I had accidentally cut someone off, a giant oak of a man who had every intention of pounding my face into the pavement. As I stood there, trembling, anxiously waiting for the worst to happen, Sofia came to my rescue, practically shouting at the guy, who in turn retreated, allowing me to carry on about my business. Sofia had this knack for manipulating people in an almost evil kind of way. I was just grateful she was on my side. The second I laid eyes on her, I was completely smitten, so much so to the point I forgot how to put together coherent sentences. She, of course, found this amusing and was actually the one who pursued me in a romantic sense, admitting that she found my lack of backbone ‘adorable’ and that I reminded her of a frightened little puppy.

Of course, she oozed confidence. She was this buxom brunette with shoulder-length hair, curves in all the right places, and a dark olive complexion. In other words, she was a goddess in every sense of the word. I, on the other hand, always felt like I was just an average-looking guy. Nothing repulsive about me, but nothing overly special either. I was very much ‘in the middle’ with nothing interesting to offer. Sofia, of course, quickly took charge, and as days turned into weeks, I found myself in a relationship with her.

Having her in my corner essentially meant no one would mess with me. She was always ready for some type of fight or argument. This was clear to me on our second date when the waiter had gotten my order wrong. I, of course, didn’t want to make a fuss, but she, on the other hand, flew into this destructive tirade, making our poor waiter burst into tears. Moments later, she’d done the same to the restaurant manager. In the end, our meals were free. I soon realized that this was very much a constant, regular thing with her; she loved to fight and argue, not with me, but for me.

Then, there were the times when she’d strike up conversations with random people, often random men. She responded well to kindness and flattery, especially from the opposite sex. I recall that on our third date, I was running late. When I arrived at the bar, I found her deep in conversation with some guy. Politely, I stood and waited and waited and waited. After forty minutes, I decided to approach her. It felt awkward and uncomfortable to interrupt them. The muscular jock simply scowled at me as if to say ‘fuck off’. Sofia, of course, responded with joy, completely unaware that the whole situation left me feeling anxious and jealous, “This is him!” she said to the guy before peeling herself away. Playfully, he wrapped his arm around her torso and pulled her in close, whispering something in her ear. She glanced over at me before erupting in laughter, “You’re naughty!” she exclaimed before peeling him off of her, “Maybe, that sounds fun,” she said before she grabbed me by the hand, leading me away.

“Who was that? An old friend?” I asked in almost a whisper.

“Oh, no. Just some guy who saw me sitting there alone. He bought me a few drinks and kept me company. He’s such a blast,” she glanced back at me, “what took you so long? You’re almost forty-five minutes late!”

“Urr… I was here, I just….” I struggled to get the words out, “I just didn’t want to interrupt you two…”

This caused her to erupt in laughter, “Oh, sweetness….” Her voice trailed off, amused by my lack of backbone. Amused that I stood and watched some other guy move in on my girl, and the fact that I did absolutely nothing about it. Needless to say, it left me feeling embarrassed and on some level emasculated. This was heightened much later on in the evening when the same guy walked by our table, placing a folded-up napkin before her. Without a word, he winked at her and continued. With an impish grin, she opened up the napkin and chuckled, giddy, almost like a schoolgirl. “What’s urm… what’s that?” I nervously asked.

“It’s his number,” her eyes met mine with a cheeky grin, “should I call him?” she teased.

I shuddered, looking away as she let out another laugh, “you’re blushing!” she teased some more, “jealous?” she asked, playfully swaying back and forth.

I looked up at her, feeling overwhelmingly anxious yet somehow aroused. “Yes.” I admitted, “very much so,” I added softly.

She erupted in laughter before folding up the napkin and placing it inside her purse, perhaps to playfully tease and taunt me.

Our first sexual encounter was, for me, a disaster. Although she remained completely clothed, she insisted I strip for her, eager for a show. I hoped to impress her with my prowess, my virility, and prove to her that I was an impressive male specimen. Of course, when I peeled off my underwear, she arched her eyebrows in wonder, gazing down at my rigidity for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, a smirk washed over her as she playfully ‘flicked’ the tip of my penis, causing it to bob up and down. “boing! Boing!” she teased, letting out a chuckle, “penises are such funny little things,” she mused out loud, “especially yours,” her eyes met mine as a semi-sadistic grin washed over her.

I feigned laughter, hoping there’d be more to the joke. That’s when she said, “Can I be honest with you?”

“Uh-huh,” I responded, anxiously.

“I really like you. You’re sweet. You’re like a little lion cub,” she paused glancing back down at my penis, “but…” she grimaced, almost awkwardly before prodding my erect penis once more, “I just… I don’t think so,” she looked back up at me with a sympathetic smile.

“You urhhh… You mean…. You don’t want to have sex with me?” I responded, in almost a whimper, letting out a groan in the process.

She snickered at me before gazing back down at my member, “No. No, I don’t.”

“Urm….” My voice trembled, perplexed, dejected, anxious, and upset, “but, but, why?” I managed to say.

This time, she glanced back up at me. A sympathetic smile was plastered on her face. It was clear she felt bad for me, but it was also clear she was quite amused by the whole situation, “Well….” She began, “Maybe we should just….Wait, I want our first time to be special.”

I gazed down at my hard-on, and part of me felt as though she were rejecting me based on the size of my genitals. I knew I wasn’t well endowed, but I’d never been rejected for sex because of it before. “Oh,” I said softly before adding, “but… we will have sex… eventually? Right?” I asked, hopeful.

She snickered once more, shooting me a knowing look, more than amused by my silly question, “Oh sweetie,” she began, “Of course! One day….. You understand, don’t you?”

I looked down at my little Peter and winced, “urr… yeah. I guess.” I was admitted, lost, and dejected.

Standing before her, completely naked while she remained clothed, felt surreal to me. Perhaps it was the rush of being so exposed and vulnerable before her as she stood there, with a cheeky, impish grin, finding humor in the situation. I had been rejected, it stung, but it was clear we were both getting off on it, at least on some level. Thinking I had nothing to lose at that point, I decided to push the envelope further, just to see how far I could progress things along, “uhh…. Can I umm…” embarrassed, I looked away sheepishly.

She played along, amused by my candor, “Can you what?” she teased, “Go on? Can you what?” she teased some more.

“Urm…. Can I have a uhh… a little blowjob?” I asked softly.

She cocked her head at me with that sultry crooked smile before playfully running her tongue over her upper lip, “Aww honey,” she began, “I’m sorry, I don’t do that,” she said resting her arms on her hips confidently whilst maintaining that semi-sadistic sarcastic smirk. Needless to say, it made me feel two inches tall. “How do you masturbate?” she then asked me.

“What do you mean?” I responded, beyond embarrassed at this point.

“How do you…. I mean, you can’t really get a fist around that little pee wee. Can you?” she asked me, confidently, with a wide-eyed, cheeky grin, perhaps enjoying this a little too much. Needless to say, her enquiry completely rattled me. She called my penis ‘pee wee’ and made me doubt everything I assumed was masculine about me. Desperate to save face, I looked back up at her with pleading eyes, “Urm, yeah. Of course, I uhhh-” before I could finish that thought, she said something that took the wind completely out of my sails, “show me,” it wasn’t a request, it was a demand.

With confusion plastered on my face, I stood there, completely gobsmacked. It left me feeling particularly silly and lost. This was not at all how I’d hoped our first sexual encounter would go.

What happened next took me completely by surprise.

She turned and sat on the sofa, gently patting the spot beside her, encouraging me to sit beside her. Nervously, anxiously, I sat next to her, feeling overwhelmingly self-conscious and embarrassed. It was awkward to say the very least. We both stared at my little member for what felt like an eternity. Once again, she repeated, “Show me.” It was indeed a demand. “Go on!” she added sternly.

Gently, I reached forth and proceeded to fondle my erect member.

Using my thumb and index finger, I clasped my dick at the base and gave it a gentle pump. She, of course, looked on in wonder, gasping as I fiddled with my little bits and pieces. I let my thumb wander by the tip of my erect member, wiggling it about, rubbing the underside of my glans. Sofia couldn’t contain herself, she erupted in laughter as I sat there, red faced with my dick in my hand. “Don’t stop!” she exclaimed in between fits of laughter, “keep going!” she egged me on as I continued my efforts, as that all too familiar feeling began to gather in my loins.

“You just rub the tip huh?” she teased, “rub, rub, rub,” she teased some more as laughter followed, “you play with yourself like a girl!” she announced, “That’s how I play with my clit!”

That was all it took.

Like a geyser, I erupted. “Ngh! Ngh! Mpf!” I wailed, I panted, I groaned, and I shrieked. I sat there, gasping and heaving as I came and came all over my torso. All the while, Sofia sat there, amused, laughing her ass off at me.

When it was all over and I came back down to earth, I felt every little bit silly and pathetic. This was heightened by the fact that my penis rapidly began to deflate, retreating inside of my body. Within a matter of seconds, all that remained was a little pink nub. She, of course, continued to laugh and laugh at me. Anxiously, I crossed my legs in an attempt to shield myself from her.

“So manly!” she said sarcastically, mocking my lack of endowment as I sat there, red-faced.

“I’m just teasing, that was fun!” she admitted as her laughter slowly died down, “This will work! You’ll see… You’re my little cutie pie.” She turned, rifling through her purse before extracting her phone. She stood up, towering over me, her phone in hand, “Mind if I take some photos of you?” she asked, batting her eyes at me. It was clear that this was all part of some kind of sick game. Sensing my hesitation, she mock-pouted at me, “Please! For me?” She shot me another smile, practically casting some type of spell on me. From there, I posed for a variety of photographs while she teased and laughed throughout the whole process.

“Arch your back, stick your butt out!” she ordered as she took photo after photo.

“Hands on hips!” she ordered, “spread your legs! Show me that little power tool!” she teased once more before erupting into laughter yet again.

“You’re not going to show these to anyone? Are you?” I asked, a frazzled mess.

“Aww, honey,” she began, “they’re just for us. For fun!” she said, trying hard to contain her laughter, “well….” She paused, letting me stew for a moment, “I may show it off to a couple of friends.” She grinned at me again as a shiver ran up my spine, “I’ve told them all about you. They’re dying to know if you’re hung or not!” she chuckled to herself before putting her phone away.

Moments later, she had gathered up her belongings and was practically out the door, “that was fun pee wee,” she said, giggling to herself, “Let’s go out tomorrow night! Dinner and a show. Sound good?” she asked in that stern dominant tone with a strong hint of mockery and condescension. “Urm, yes,” I responded.

“Can we urr….. I don’t suppose we could urm…. Have sex tomorrow? Like…. Actual sex?” I asked sheepishly.

“What? Again!?” she teased, “but, you just ‘had sex’…..” she paused, on the verge of laughter, “with your fingertips!” she erupted into laughter once more before walking off down the hallway, “pick me up at eight pee wee,” with that, she was gone.

I stood there naked, wondering just what the hell had happened. It was emasculating. It wasn’t very comfortable. It wasn’t very comfortable. I wanted more. So much more.

From there, our relationship evolved.

Yes, she was amused by the size of my genitals, but it was more than that. It felt as though it were part of some larger game of hers. My response to her teasing seemed to fuel the fire. I would shudder, turn three shades of red, and find myself becoming aroused. This, of course, did not go unnoticed by her, and thus, on that trajectory, our relationship evolved. There were countless nude ‘photo shoots’ all for her amusement, and she’d find ways to push the envelope in an attempt to intensify things further. I’d be forced to pose alongside other phallic objects, all for the sole purpose of providing entertainment for her and whoever else she was showing the photos to. Of course, she’d keep it a secret, which of course heightened my sense of anxiety, which would ultimately pretty quickly transform into arousal on my part. Watching my little member grow to its full erect state always seemed to amuse her, and as embarrassed as I was feeling, I was proud to display to her the effect she had on my body.

She would use the promise of sex to control every facet of our relationship. In doing so, I’d submit, and she’d always get her way. At first, it was simple things like choosing which movie to watch, or which restaurant to eat at, but eventually it got to the point where I would bend to her every whim, her every request, every demand, everything… it was impossible to say no to her. I even ended up paying her rent, her car payments, and even the vast majority of her bills. “Take care of this for me…. And I’ll rock your world,” she’d seductively say, which would turn me into putty.

Of course, when she got what she wanted from me, she’d renege on her promise, or altogether change her mind. A sly grin or a cheeky smirk often accompanied this. She knew denial was what drove me insane and what made me want her even more.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t entirely a sexless relationship…. But it was often sex her way on her terms.

On our six-month anniversary, she promised penetrative sex. In fact, those were her words, ‘penetrative sex’. I was so anxious, overjoyed, and perplexed that I had a permanent hard-on for two whole weeks leading up to the main event. Leading me into her bedroom, I was ordered me to strip naked and lie flat on the bed, on my stomach. Of course, she remained clothed but proceeded to give me a deep tissue massage. After ten minutes, she ordered me to stick out my rear. “Ready?” she asked hoarsely in my ear. All I could do was nod and whimper. She clasped my rock hard member in the palm of her hand, with her thumb, she gently massaged my puckered up anus.

“Ngh,” I groaned as I was gently penetrated. From there, she jiggled her hand back and forth, prodding my ass, and gently milking me simultaneously. It didn’t take long for me to ejaculate all over her sheets. It left me a heaving, panting mess, and as I collapsed on the bed, she, of course, erupted in laughter, beyond amused by what her touch had done to my body. Perplexed, I gazed up at her, confused and shocked. “I urhhh…. I thought we were going to have sex?” I asked, in between labored breaths.

She, of course, chuckled out loud before saying, “Aww, honey! You did have sex! With my hand!” More laughter ensued.

The more I was teased, the more I was denied, the more I wanted it. It just seemed to go on like this.

On one occasion, we were at a crowded coffee shop, seated opposite each other, when some lug-head confidently strutted over to her and practically asked her out in front of me. It was as if I were completely invisible, and although she didn’t say yes, she did humor him to the point where it drove me completely insane. Sensing my angst seemed to fuel the fire, especially when she noticed I’d sprouted a boner, noticing the prominent lump in my pants. “You’re jealous?” she teased, loud enough for everyone to hear, “and it turns you on?” she laughed in my face.

Before I could respond, she’d shoved her foot into my crotch, where she proceeded to rub my tender little bits gently. As I sat there, heaving and groaning, she looked back at me, confidently with a wide eyed smirk and when I eventually soiled my pants, she erupted in laughter garnering attention from almost everyone nearby, “pee wee went off, didn’t he?” she teased, “you made an icky mess in your big boy pants?” she teased some more before resuming her laughter.

Red-faced, I quickly waddled over to the bathroom in a desperate attempt to clean myself up.

When I came back, I was shocked to find her deep in conversation with that same lughead who’d hit on her earlier. Again, I stood by the sidelines and watched and waited until their conversation was over. Once he’d left, I approached her, anxiously, sheepishly, with a grimace plastered on my face, “What was that all about?” I asked her nervously.

She shot me a crooked grin, “adult stuff,” she said as her eyes peered down to the wet stain between my legs, “sex in public is so kinky!” she exclaimed.

I stood before her, embarrassed, red-faced, “sex?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah. You just had sex with my foot. I bet it felt wonderful,” she teased before adding, “let’s get you home, ‘big boy’!” nearby, a group of women listening in all erupted in laughter, all in unison, all at my expense.

Yes, it was an odd relationship. Built mostly on control, denial, and manipulation…. But I loved it. As much as I longed and begged for sex, I loved our dynamic. I was permanently horny and she was permanently in command, exercising her dominance over me. It seemed to me as though she got off on it.

As a couple, she dictated pretty much every aspect of my life. What to watch, what to drink, what to wear, what to eat, and where to go. In other words, I’d been cut off from booze, and I’d been put on a strict diet in addition to being forced to take a wide variety of vitamins and supplements. My wardrobe had changed, significantly so. Whereas I normally used to wear a dark polo shirt and grey shorts, I was now forced to wear nothing but pastel colors and what I felt to be oddly effeminate shirts and pants. Most of my pants seemed to have flares in addition to being almost paper-thin. My shirts more than often resembled women’s blouses and were often pink, aqua, or purple. I’d complain to her about this on numerous occasions, and she’d respond with, “It’s the latest European fashion! You look so trendy… so sexy!” she’d tease, which of course, would turn me into putty and in turn, bend me to her whim. As for movies and television, we mostly watched together and generally tended to be romantic comedies or musicals.

Furthermore, she was the one who decided what we did together, socially, as a couple.

Roughly a year into our relationship, she dragged me along to a party on the other side of town. Apparently, it was a housewarming for a friend of hers, someone I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to meet. As I sat in the passenger seat in my pink and aqua suit, I gazed over at her, confidently clinging to the wheel, with a permanent bemused smirk plastered on her face. She’d been looking forward to this party for some particular reason. She was dressed in a tight short leather dress which left very little to the imagination. The look was completed with a pair of black pumps and a full face of make-up, more so than she often chose to wear. In other words, she looked glamorous, but also rather slutty. Either way, it seemed as though she were desperately seeking attention.

When we arrived at the party, I was completely taken aback by the sheer size and grandeur of the property. “Jesus!” I exclaimed, “Who the hell is your friend?” I asked in shock and awe. In response, she let out a giddy laugh, “Just be on your best behavior, okay?” she added.

The house sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean. Perfectly manicured gardens surrounded it. In the far distance, there was what I could only describe as a manmade waterfall and a large Olympic-sized swimming pool. Pink and blue neon lights illuminated the entire space. There were people aplenty, all different types of people milling about.

As Sofia led the way, I couldn’t help but notice how attractive everyone at this party was. The women all seemed to exude beauty, elegance, and confidence. Glancing over at my girlfriend, I couldn’t help but notice just how well she fit into this environment. As we continued, a number of people would greet her warmly, “Sofia! Hey!” a pretty, buxom blonde called out. Sofia paused and exchanged pleasantries as I stood there awkwardly. She didn’t introduce me, nor did she pay me any sort of attention; I pretty much just blended into the background while she socialized. I was lost in my world, off in fantasy land, wondering what it would be like to live in such an amazing palace. Before too long, her conversation had ended and with a, “come along, Pee Wee….” I was snapped back to reality, following her into the main house.

The house itself was a sight to behold, resembling what I imagined to be a Hollywood mega-mansion. It was grand in stature and imposing in size, with floor-to-ceiling wrap-around windows, a full bar, and, believe it or not, a live band playing in the background. I was completely gobsmacked. Of course, once again, someone had stopped my Sofia for a pleasant exchange, and once again, I was forced to wait as I stood idly by while she talked and talked. I remained in the background, invisible and hidden.

Scanning the room, I also noticed all the men milling about also happened to be themselves, quite attractive, resembling runway models. They were also dressed like ‘normal men’. Suddenly feeling a little silly, I anxiously shifted, aware of how silly, how different I looked by comparison. Catching my reflection in a nearby mirror confirmed my fear: I looked effeminate, yet almost like a caricature.

It was only then that I noticed I’d lost her. Sofia had wandered off, leaving me behind, forgetting about me completely.

I knew it was an accident, and I knew she’d eventually get back to me, so I didn’t really panic. However, I decided to have a little wander around the premises.

Outside, the party was in full swing. Alcohol was aplenty, and those particularly inebriated were leaping into the pool; some were completely disrobing before taking the plunge. It was hard not to stare, and despite my ridiculous outfit, I did my best to remain hidden in the shadows. At one point, an athletic redhead emerged from the pool, her naked body shimmering and glistening as she proceeded to strut over in my direction. Her body was pure perfection, toned in all the right places. She smirked at me as she walked on past me, aptly picking up a towel to dry herself off. Embarrassed, I looked away before she said, “It’s creepy to stare.”

This was enough to rattle me, and I quickly retreated, heading back into the house. Perhaps it was all in my mind, but I could’ve sworn I heard muffled laughter erupt behind me as I made myself scarce.

From there, I found myself wandering for almost an hour. I was largely ignored, and no one really paid any sort of attention to me. I felt particularly hopeless when I tried to get a drink from the open bar, only to be completely ignored by the wait staff. After a while, I conceded defeat, gave up, and walked away from the bar, instead opting to wander about the grounds, taking it all in.

Eventually, I found myself becoming agitated and restless, and decided that I had had enough of this party. So, I decided then and there to commence the search; the desperate search to find my Sofia. I headed outside again, by the pool, by the tennis court, by the grotto… nothing. I headed back inside, towards the bar, up the stairs, into the den, back down towards the dance floor…. again, nothing. I’d lost her, and for a brief moment, panic began to set in.

Frantic, I headed back outside in desperation.

Perhaps it was my mind playing tricks with me, but I could’ve sworn I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be Sofia in the arms of another man. A muscular oak of a man. A dark skinned athlete with an imposing, wide build and staggering height. Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to get a closer look. As I approached them, my suspicions were confirmed, it was my Sofia…. This asshole was nuzzling her neck as she fell into his arms, laughing at whatever fucking joke he was telling her. My heart all too suddenly sank, and I felt this overwhelming urge to barge over there and challenge the guy in a fight.

Before I could muster up the courage to do so, a stern, yet feminine voice stopped me, “Need help there?”

I paused in my tracks and glanced over my shoulder.

Standing before me was a tall, statuesque euro-Asian beauty. She was dressed in a tight red evening gown and was radiating. She had dark brown eyes and luscious, pouty, bright red lips. She smiled at me as I shuddered, embarrassed but also humbled to be in her presence, even to be graced by her beauty. “Urm…” I began, momentarily forgetting how to speak, “I was urr…. That’s umm…. That’s my girlfriend,” I said softly, pointing over towards Sofia and her new friend.

The beauty before me glanced over in that direction. A smile curled in the corners of her mouth as she shot me an impish sympathetic grin, “maybe,” she began, cocking her head at me, almost tenderly, “you should leave them be,” she said.

“Huh?” I gasped in response, completely perplexed.

“I think they’d like some privacy,” she reaffirmed with a stern, yet tender smile.

“But… but…. but that’s my-” My voice trailed off, not knowing how to carry on. She, in turn, came up close to me, gently grabbing me by the hand, gently caressing it. “I’m Marjorie….” She said softly, “You’re with Sofia?” she asked.

All I could do was nod, indicating ‘yes’.

She chuckled before shaking her head at me. It was as if I was the butt of some kind of joke. “Come with me,” she said before gently pulling me away.

Nervously, I followed her… or rather was led by her.

She practically dragged me towards a small pool house on the other side of the property, away from the party, away from the noise…. Away from everything. Suddenly, I got a queasy, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I desperately wanted to demand answers, to figure out what the hell was going on. Before I could gather the courage to say anything, she wound me with, “What’s your number?”

“My number?” I responded meekly.

“Yeah,” she said, looking back at me with a cheeky grin, “I’m sure you’ve measured,” she added as she arched her eyebrows, letting me know she was in control.

“Urmm…. I’m not sure what you mean,” I responded, terrified, meekly.

“How big is your dick?” she asked me, confidently.

“Urm….” I looked down at my feet, beyond embarrassed, “I don’t know,” I responded softly.

She, in turn, let out a chuckle, “You’re lying to me.”

She stopped in her tracks and stared back at me, piercing into my soul. It was awkward and nerve-wracking to say the very least. She just stood at smiled at me, waiting for me to confess, waiting for me to admit, waiting for me to come clean and tell her all about my shame. I knew we wouldn’t go any further until I was upfront and honest with her. She flicked her tongue and arched her eyebrows, waiting for me to respond to her initial question.

“I am….,” I grimaced, beyond embarrassed at this point, “I am four and a half inches,” I said, blushing as I looked down at my feet.

Now it was her turn to laugh. Laughter from within.

I stood there red faced as she laughed and laughed at my admission: that I’m the owner of a little dick. In that moment, I felt two inches tall and I just wanted to world to open up and swallow me whole. I felt so damn silly and pathetic.

“Show me,” she said, sternly.

The color must’ve left my face as I stood there, in shock, “What?” I exclaimed in disbelief, “No way!” I said aloud in defiance.

In response, she ran her fingers through her hair and stepped up even closer to me, inches from my face, “Am I going to have to strip you down? Or are you going to comply?”

“Urm…. I uhhh….” I have no idea how she did it, but I found myself submitting to her will. She looked on amused as I fumbled with my belt. In a matter of seconds, my pants and underpants had slipped off my body, bunching by my ankles as I stood there before her, exposed and afraid.

“It’s umm…. It’s cold out here,” I said in an attempt to save face.

“Uh-huh,” she responded, almost sarcastically, dismissively, whilst maintaining that bemused grin. Slowly, she knelt, “left foot, right foot…” she said as I found myself complying with little to no fight. Submissively, I stepped out of my pants and underpants as she aptly bunched them up into a ball, taking them away from me. I stood before her, naked from the waist down, wondering what the hell had just happened. “I’m going to hold onto these until it’s time for you to go,” she said, sternly as she cradled my clothes in her arms.

“Follow me,” she added, turning and marching off toward the pool house.

My flaccid little peter bobbed up and down as I walked, and in that moment, I felt more vulnerable than I ever had in my entire life. She looked over her shoulder at me, glancing down at the little nub that was my manhood. She shot me a crooked smile, laced with condescension and mockery. Nervously, I cupped my crotch with both hands in an attempt to shield myself from her. This resulted in a sympathetic grin as she bit her lip, fighting hard to keep from laughing. Anxiously, I followed her, in a waddle with my back hunched over. When we made it inside, I was shocked to see a room of average-looking men, all milling about, all naked from the waist down. She shot me a wink, “mingle with the other cucks. I’m sure Sofia will come and get you when she’s had her fun.” With that, the enchanting goddess turned and walked out of the room, with my pants and underpants.

Standing there, half-naked in a room full of other half-naked men was awkward to say the very least. Thankfully, no one really paid that much attention to me, nor did anyone really care about my presence. I must’ve looked so silly, standing there shielding my privates as I gazed over the room. There was a large screen television, where a group of men were busy watching the game. Others were milling about the pool table, eagerly waiting their turn to play, and some were simply hanging out by the bay windows, taking in the view of the ocean. Given our vantage point, you could see the entire shoreline, with absolutely breathtaking views.

All too suddenly, I was taken out of my daze as a half-naked, portly man approached me. “You don’t need to cover up here,” he said in a friendly manner. I was still too anxious to lower my hands to my sides, not yet willing to display my bits and pieces to the room. “I’m Harold,” he said, extending his hand to shake. I shuddered as I reached forth, clasping his hand.

Like me, Harold was naked from the waist down, only wearing a loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt. He didn’t seem to care, nor was he at all embarrassed by his partial nudity. Curiosity got the better of me, and I found my eyes peering downward, catching an eyeful of what he possessed between his legs. He noticed me looking and shot me an impish grin, “Oh yeah…. That….” he said in response.

Harold was wearing a chastity device. It almost resembled a metallic button. In fact, it was a steel inverted chastity cage and what it really did was make it seem like he had no penis whatsoever. “Does it hurt?” I asked out of genuine curiosity. “No, not really,” he responded, casually, “to be honest, I don’t really have much sensation down there anyway. I largely forget about it,” he said, not at all bothered. “But… do you, urr…. No sensation?” I asked, perplexed and perhaps even a little shocked.

“Not really…. I accepted a long time ago that part of my life is over. Erections are nothing but a fond distant memory,” he glanced down at my little peter, “what about you? Does yours still work?” he asked before curiously pulling my shirt up, taking a gander between my legs. I was quick to swat his hands out of the way before covering myself. I shot him a look as if to say ‘get the fuck away from me freak’. He, of course, let out a slight chuckle, “It’s your first time at one of these parties, isn’t it?” he said with an amused smirk plastered on his face.

“I’m not urrmmm…. I don’t mean to offend, but I’m not…. Anything like you. At all. I am a man…. And it works,” I said in a desperate attempt to defend my masculinity.

“I’m not offended,” he responded with a smile, “So…. Your wife? You’re intimate with her?” he asked, prodding further, perhaps in an attempt to help me realize something about myself.

“Not my wife,” I admitted, “my girlfriend, Sofia….” I said softly.

“She let’s you fuck her?” he asked.

I pondered for a moment, realizing that perhaps I was more like this freak than I would’ve liked to admit. My expression was enough for him to interpret how I was feeling in that moment, and it was clear to him that I’d answered his question without saying anything. “But you love her?” he asked. This completely threw me and I came to the startling realization that, yes…. More than anything, I loved her, despite the fact that our intimacy was particularly strange and was in no way ‘normal’.

“Yes. I do,” I said softly, “she’s my everything,” I admitted.

“Hey, I hear you, brother,” he responded, “my advice…. Be supportive. She has needs, just be there for her. It will make your life a hell of a lot easier,” he said almost tenderly.

“What about urmmm….” I pointed to his groin, “I don’t think I really…. I don’t want to urrr….,” I didn’t know how to convey my angst in that moment. Terror washed over me as I pictured myself being forced to wear an uncomfortable, constrictive device on my tender bits. I certainly didn’t want that. He looked down at the nub between his legs, “it’s not a big deal,” he admitted, “my wife actually decided that it was useless and so, she made the decision to take it away from me…. It’s not a big deal… to be honest, it wasn’t really working properly anyway.”

Suddenly, I felt flushed and felt this overwhelming urge to disappear, or at least pull myself away from this uncomfortable, awkward exchange. I certainly didn’t want this to be my future. I decided then and there to make myself scarce, “I think this has all been some kind of mistake, I’m uhhh…. Excuse me,” I said as I frantically fumbled with the door, beyond uncomfortable and more than eager to leave.

I practically bolted away from the pool house, desperate to find Sofia and get the fuck outta there. As soon as I made it back to the main house, I soon realized that I stuck out like a sore thumb. Thinking quickly, I tore off my shirt and tied it around my waist, hiding my modesty. From there, I wandered over to the main pool area, at least on some level, I fit in there, also given the fact that the vast majority of people swimming or milling about this area were mostly nude. It then dawned on me, the men out here were vastly different from the ‘men’ hidden away. Men here all appeared to resemble Greek gods. All with wide frames. All with imposing builds. All with staggering height. And lastly, all seemed to have anteaters dangling between their legs.

I was different in every possible way.

Conceding defeat, I hung my head in shame and decided to hobble back to my hole, keeping a low profile with the other cucks while my Sofia, the love of my life, had the time of her life, presumably with some handsome, hung stranger.

When I eventually waddled back into the hole, Harold locked eyes with me and grinned, knowing full well that I would eventually put two and two together and crawl back. “Are you okay?” he asked me with genuine concern.

“Yeah, I just didn’t really expect this,” I admitted.

“Oh, it’s fine…. Besides, we make our fun here, let me introduce you to some of the other cucks.” From there, he basically paraded me around, introducing me to almost everyone in the room. I was to learn later that ‘housewarming party’ was basically a code that Marjorie often used to ease newbies into the lifestyle delicately. Sofia, of course, failed to follow protocol, clearly getting distracted and forgetting about me altogether. Needless to say, as soon as I accepted it, I actually found myself having a good time.

Hours passed, and we played pool, watched some sports, and even played some cards. As the evening went on, one by one, a hostess summoned each of the cucks, and one by one, they began to leave. Before too long, it was only a handful of us, just lounging around the television. At 1 am, a familiar face wandered in. It was Marjorie. “Good to see you stayed put!” she declared with a wide-eyed grin. Before I could fathom any type of response, she said, “Come on, it’s time to go.”

“Good luck, brother,” Harold called out as I was whisked away.

Marjorie led me outside, past the main house toward the main front driveway, almost as though she were purposefully avoiding the party altogether.

I also realized that she had no intention whatsoever of returning my clothes to me. I was still naked, clinging tightly to my bunched-up shirt, trying to shield my shame from her. To my utter surprise, she led me towards Sofia’s Honda Civic and motioned for me to wait, “Sofia will be out soon. You stay put and… Behave.” With that, she disappeared back into the house, leaving me standing there in the dark, all alone.

Twenty minutes later, a figure emerged from the main house. As the figure got closer, I realized it was indeed Sofia. She was barefoot, holding her heels in her right hand. Her hair was a tussled mess. Her makeup was smudged, and she had a satisfied, bemused smirk plastered on her face. I stood anxiously as she approached me, “err… Sofia, I uh….” My voice trailed off as she came in close to me, clasping the back of my head tightly as she leaned in and gave me a soft, yet passionate and tender kiss. Her tongue went down my throat as she gently sucked, all the while tenderly rubbing the back of my head. It was such a passionate, tender kiss that I lost myself for a moment.

It also affected my little Peter, as my erection prodded her inner thigh, she broke away from me, glancing down at my rigidity with a bemused smirk. “Aww, honey,” she said softly, tenderly, albeit with a tone of condescension.

“Get in, I’ll take you home,” she said softly before unlocking her car.

Moments later, she tore out of the driveway as I clung to my armrest.

As I sat there, I tasted something funny in the back of my throat. It was an almost musty, salty taste. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. She caught me licking my lips, trying to make sense of it all. This resulted in a round of laughter as I sat there, perplexed, gazing over at her, expecting some type of explanation.

“Can you taste it?” she asked, playfully.

“Taste what?” I responded cautiously.

“I just gave Brad a blowjob,” she admitted, a wide eyed grin plastered on her face.

Anxiously, I licked my lips, realizing suddenly what I was tasting.

“Can you taste it?” she asked again.

“Yes,” I admitted, red-faced and embarrassed.

It also proved that she’d lied to me early on in our relationship when I tried to pester her for a blowjob, ‘sorry I don’t do that,’ is what she’d originally said to me. I know now it was a lie. I was not worthy of a blowjob, I simply wasn’t man enough, wasn’t big enough…. I wasn’t worthy of those types of adult pleasures.

Glancing down at my little hard-on, she chuckled some more before adding, “Little Pee Wee seems all pent up! Doesn’t he?” she teased.

“If you can refrain from touching him for a whole week… I’ll make it worth your while….” she said, playfully.

*****

Our Peculiar Life…

It didn’t take me long to come to the startling realization that I was not in any way in a normal relationship with Sofia. In fact, it was downright peculiar. Everything about our dynamic was strange. In time, I soon realized that I was indeed a pussy free cuckold and that I was very much in a female led relationship.

As soon as I accepted my fate, everything became easier for both of us. Our lives soon became entangled, and shortly thereafter, she made the decision that I would be moving in with her, or rather, she’d be moving in with me and would ultimately be claiming my house as ‘our’ house.

She quickly went about restyling and redesigning everything about my home. It quickly morphed from a modest bachelor pad to a homely Hamptons-style condo. I recall coming home after a long day of work, struggling to come to grips with what she’d done to my house. Of course, she’d thrown out the vast majority of my belongings simply because it didn’t really fit in with her ‘vision’ of what our home should be. Since I was 17, I’d been collecting rare DVDs and VHS tapes. Sofia declared that it was absurd to collect something so utterly pointless, given the fact that almost everything could be streamed online… and so, all into the bin they went.

My Star Wars figurines met the same fate, as did my framed movie posters and the vast majority of my clothes. In the end, I didn’t recognize my home. Sensing my angst, Sofia came up close to me and began to chew on my earlobe, this pretty much turned me into putty, “isn’t it nice babydoll? Our new life together. I’m so excited,” she said, hoarsely in my ear, “thank you for letting me take charge. I think you need a reward for your patience and understanding. How does that sound?” she looked back at me, batting her eyes at me as a wide eyed grin washed over her. She knew how to bend me to her whim. All it took was the false promise of sex.

I’m sure it amused her, knowing that in the back of my mind, I still clung to hope that she’d let me have conventional sex with her, just like the way Brad does.

Minutes later, within the walls of our newly painted living room, all that could be heard were the sounds of her muffled laughter and the occasional amused gasp. Sofia sat on her plush grey and blue recliner, her legs folded as she clasped a tumbler half full of wine. “Put your back into it,” she said behind an amused yet sadistic smile, her manicured fingernails gently tapped her glass, perhaps as another way to taunt me.

I was putting on a show for her… under her terms, under her watchful eye. I, was completely naked, glistening in sweat, my whole body had a slick sheen as I flailed about on the hardwood floor, humping a sofa cushion. ‘Sex’ for me, would mean fucking a cushion on the floor while she watched. I could tell that I was satisfying her, on some level. She was at least amused.

“Put that little toy to work!” she joked as I picked up the pace, “imagine you’re a big boy and it’s me you’re fucking!” she mimicked an orgasm as I ploughed the pillow harder, faster, faster, faster.

“Oh yeah! That’s the spot! Ungh!” she teased, mockingly faking an orgasm to taunt me further.

Her teasing, her laughter, and her taunting were all it took to send me well over the edge. All too suddenly, my whole body spasmed as I came, practically having a mini seizure on the cushion. All the while, Sofia laughed and laughed at my pathetic little display as I heaved, panted, and groaned, letting out a satisfied wail and grimace in the process. My entire body twitched as I flailed about on the floor, gasping for air as I felt my entire world shake. “Ngh! Mfph!!” I couldn’t even put together a sentence, I was so in shock and out of breath as I held myself on the floor, pausing as I involuntarily shuddered before her.

As post-nut clarity sunk in, I felt every little bit useless and pathetic. This was, of course, heightened by the fact that she continued to howl with laughter as I rolled off the wet, sticky cushion. I looked up at her with desperate eyes as she rose from the couch, adjusting her skirt, pulling it down below her knees.

“You’re always good for a laugh, babydoll,” she said as she picked up the cushion and placed it back on the couch. “That’s your special cushion, I want you to take extra special care of it,” she smiled at me as I lay there on the floor with my mouth agape, “I want you to think of it as almost your girlfriend. Let’s call her Amelia…. You’ll be fucking her a lot,” she let out another chuckle, almost sadistic.

“Umm… I will?” I responded, still in shock.

“It’s only fair,” she smiled at me, “I have my lover… and you have yours,” she arched her eyebrows at me, perhaps to further taunt me, “It’s the only way you’ll ever get your cookies…. since masturbation is prohibited for you,” she smiled at me, an almost sadistic smile as I looked up at her, struggling to come to grips with this new revelation, this odd new rule of hers which not only seemed odd, but also mind-numbingly cruel. With that, she turned and headed up the stairs to our bedroom, leaving me all alone to reflect. This was our life, our dynamic, and how our relationship would be moving forward.

I heard the shower running, which was enough motivation for me to rise from the floor and make my way into bed, hoping to catch a glimpse of her naked body at least. Almost forty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a pink and red nightgown. She shot me a cheeky grin as she took her place beside me. I shifted in my spot, perplexed and perhaps a little on edge, expecting some type of attention.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked.

“Huh?” was all I could say in response.

She rolled her eyes at me as she proceeded to lather up her hands in lotion, “Where’s Amelia?”

“Amelia?” I asked, still not quite getting it.

She arched her eyebrows at me as it quickly sank in. She expected me to fetch my cushion, the cushion I’d ejaculated on, almost an hour prior. She wanted me to sleep with it. The whole thing felt odd, juvenile, and even a little silly. But I also knew it was part of her game, and I was more than happy to comply. So, I quickly rose from the bed, hobbled into the living room, where I picked up my soiled cushion and brought it back to bed. I smiled at her, almost awkwardly, as I lay on the bed beside her, clutching my dirty cushion as if it were a teddy bear.

“Nope!” she declared out loud.

“What? What do you mean?” I responded, not quite getting it.

She was quick to yank my pillow from underneath my head and aptly threw it across the room. Her eyes met mine with another cheeky grin. It was then that I realized I’d be essentially sleeping on my ejaculate that night. I also knew what was expected of me. She’d expected to see the crusty substance on my face the following morning. I let out a deep sigh as I placed the cushion in position, before putting my face on the damp, wet patch.

Sofia howled with laughter before she reached over to the nightstand, switching the lights off.

Our first evening living together and not only had I fucked a cushion in front of her, I was also forced to sleep on my cum. Needless to say, this pretty much set the tone of our peculiar relationship moving forward. Things intensified the following morning when I awoke to her snickers and chuckling. The cushion was indeed stuck to my face. As I peeled it off, she roared with laughter.

“Babydoll,” she began, trying to compose herself, “you’re so good for a laugh!” she teased, “I’m having a shower… you and Amelia are welcome to have more urmmm…..’ alone time’… if you like,” she chuckled out loud as I lay there, with dried cum on my face, my checks turning beet red as a new deep level of embarrassment washed over me.

Much later, I stood under the hot shower as steam engulfed the bathroom. As I shampooed my hair, lost in my world, my mind wandered back, way back, to what led me into this particular way of life, how I ended up with a goddess who constantly cheated on me. Someone who undoubtedly had always denied me sex and had essentially turned me into a pussy free cuckold. I was brought back to reality when the water temperature suddenly plummeted to subzero temperatures. In shock, I let out a high-pitched squeal and quickly leaped out of the shower. Sofia stood before me, a cheeky, devilish grin plastered on her face, “Cold showers only!” she teased.

“Since when?” I asked, trembling.

“Since I decided two seconds ago. You don’t deserve that luxury!” her eyes peered down to my privates as she let out an exaggerated scoff, clearly finding amusement in my appearance. “aww…. Oh no! It’s disappeared!” she joked.

In shock, I too looked down: my peter had indeed retreated inside of my body, only a pale little nubbin protruding out of my shiny bald pubic mound. Since she declared I was not a masculine man where it counted, she’d insisted I remain permanently hairless. Imagine my embarrassment, months prior, when she’d actually dragged me along to a beauty salon on the other side of town, where a close friend of hers proceeded to give me a laser manzillian. It was not only embarrassing, being exposed and on display with my legs spread wide apart, but it was also excruciatingly painful. Laser hair removal on your delicate bits and pieces is no walk in the park. I actually lay there with my legs in stirrups as I heaved, screamed, and wailed in agony for close to an hour. When it was over, I was smooth and completely hairless… permanently. My Sofia had succeeded in making my genitals appear even more pathetic than they already were. I looked prepubescent now, even when I’d managed to sprout a little boner.

So, I stood before her under the cold shower, trembling and shaking as my bald nubbin continued to retract further inside of my wet, cold body. “Go on! Finish up!” she said, playfully.

She swayed back and forth with a cheeky grin. I took a deep inhale as I continued to wash myself under her watchful eye. I was quick about it, too, desperate to get it over and done with. Cold showers did indeed become a part of my daily morning routine, and quite often, she’d stand there, with that grin, taking it all in, her eyes transfixed on what dangled between my legs. In fact, she’d always go out of her way to draw attention to the fact that I was lacking where it certainly mattered. It was all part of her game and from time to time, she’d take out her phone and record me in my most unflattering state, all for the sole purpose of tormenting me, “I want my friends to see you like this,” she’d often say with a satisfied smirk as she zoomed in on my shrunken little pink nub, which very much resembled a AAA battery, “they won’t believe it otherwise.”

I recall one evening in particular, Sofia had some of her friends over for a movie night. Imagine my shock and angst, coming home after a long day at work, walking right into the middle of what very much felt like a ladies’ room. I was pretty much surrounded by eight statuesque goddesses, who had all been close friends with Sofia since high school. Of course, I was encouraged to stay, encouraged to join them. Imagine my embarrassment when Sofia actually played several short videos of me, standing nude in my most unflattering state. All eyes fell on me as I sat there, mortifyingly embarrassed as they all laughed their asses off at me, no doubt making comparisons to the other men in their lives who I’m sure were all far more endowed than me. I, of course, feigned laughter, struggling to save face as they all took turns mocking and teasing me for the remainder of the evening.

Later that night, once they all left, Sofia held me tightly and gave me a deep kiss. “Did I go too far?” she asked, practically batting her eyes at me.

“Urr.. no, it was okay,” I looked back at her as a warm feeling washed over me. God, she was beautiful and she was mine, I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to be able to call this goddess before me, my girlfriend. “It was fun,” I admitted, on some level actually enjoying the teasing and light humiliation.

I actually convinced myself that in time, we would eventually become a normal couple and would have a normal adult relationship. I was a fool to think that I could change her, but as time progressed, I realized that I yearned for this way of life. I liked being at her mercy. I liked being teased. I liked being denied, and of course, I liked it when she cheated on me. Although I wouldn’t really call it ‘cheating’, since I was not only aware of her infidelities, but also supportive of them. I told her that I wanted her to be happy, to do as she pleased, all I asked for in return was total transparency…. And I got it.

She was overwhelmingly open and honest when me, so much so, to the point where it often drove me to insanity. She’d recount sexual exploits, encounters, and trysts with me, almost as though I were a girlfriend. When she noticed me looking pent up or frazzled, she’d encourage me to fuck Amelia while she watched and quite often, record with her phone. All the while, she’d mock, tease, and ridicule me. In the end, I soon came to crave her humiliation, her attention, and became addicted to her dominant nature. It actually awoke something deep inside me.

Needless to say, hearing her recount tales of recent sexual encounters drove me insane with jealousy. Not too long after we moved in together, she went away on a ‘girl’s weekend’ to the coast, leaving me all alone in our newly furnished condo. I was told that I could fuck Amelia as often as I liked under the condition I send her photos of her dripping with my cum. At midday on the Saturday, she texted me with a message that read, ‘Brad joined us. I just went down on him while Cassie watched. After that, he fucked the both of us.’ I couldn’t believe what I’d read, and it was enough to drive me to insanity. Brad! Fucking Brad! I was so jealous of the guy, living out every man’s fantasy. Yes, Sofia was a goddess, but Cassie resembled a bikini model who always seemed to be glistening in sweat, somehow always ‘shiny’. Now, he got to fuck them both, no doubt with vivacious passion and athleticism, leaving them both heaving, panting, gasping for more. I was so jealous and anxious that I actually began to see stars. All too suddenly, overwhelmed and perplexed, I grabbed Amelia, my fuck cushion, stripped down and humped it until I made an icky sticky wet mess.

Grabbing my phone, I took a photo and hit send.

Almost immediately, Sofia responded with a laughing emoji.

This unlocked a whole new level of deep humiliation for me and completely left me feeling every little bit pathetic, useless, and lost. ‘What man would do this? What man would allow a woman to treat him this way? No wonder she doesn’t respect you! No wonder she doesn’t fuck you. No wonder you’re at home, fucking a dirty pillow while she fucks some hung stud in paradise.’ As this was going through my mind, she sent through another text, ‘I love you’.

Weeks later, we were having breakfast together when she declared out of the blue, “Brad’s coming over tonight.”

I looked back at her, confused and suddenly terrified.

“I’d like you to meet him,” she added.

“Really? Uhh…. I umm….,” my mind wandered, not quite knowing how to respond. I didn’t really think Brad would become a permanent fixture in her life. I assumed it was just a casual thing. I suppose this set off alarm bells, especially when she called him her ‘other boyfriend’. I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat. “But I thought that he was just, urm…” My voice trailed off as she stared back at me.

“I just figured, you two should meet,” she paused for effect, “he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. It’s best that you accept it.”

It dawned on me that he wasn’t just her lover, but someone she’d made a deep connection with. It was also clear to me that I’d have to share her with the guy. In my heightened sense of jealousy, I simply couldn’t think straight. My mind began to wander, thinking about what liberties I was denied in order to favor the infamous Brad. He was apparently a gifted lover, athletic, arrogant, and hung. He got to fuck her stupid and I got nothing. I got to fuck a dirty cushion. As this was going through my mind, Sofia placed her manicured hand on the front of my trousers, gently applying pressure. It was enough to bring me back to reality, especially when I began to swell under to palm.

“You and I have a special kind of love, babydoll, nothing can replace what you and I have. You understand? Don’t you?” she asked, batting her eyes at me.

“Uh-huh,” I said in response, softly.

Reacting to my hardness, she snickered before meeting my gaze, “awww, babydoll!” she teased with a sympathetic smile, “Princess Penelope is starting to get a little stiff!”

I grimaced, red-faced in embarrassment. Princess Penelope was what she called my penis on occasion. It was perhaps the most humiliating and emasculating name a woman could call a man’s member. I sat there, trying hard to catch my breath, gobsmacked. Despite the embarrassment I was feeling, I was also more than aroused, almost ready to burst! She was actually touching me in my special place! Gently rubbing and applying pressure, “urhh… I am, umm… oh god, ngh… I’m totally hard right now!” I exclaimed, trying hard to catch my breath, anticipating some type of sexual attention, something further, something I rarely got from her.

“Aww babydoll!” she teased some more, suppressing laughter, “I know you’re proud of this pink little toy of yours but…. I don’t think it ever really gets completely hard. Not like a real man!” she said, meeting my gaze once more, “this isn’t ‘rock’ hard” she added, giving my member a slight squeeze through my trousers. I knew it was part of her game and she was just playfully teasing me, but it stung on some level, especially due to the fact that I was harder than a Chinese arithmetic problem in that moment. “You’re always just a little bit limpy, just a bit…” she chuckled before continuing, “you don’t get ‘all the way’ hard like a normal adult male, you’re always just…, ” her eyes met mine with a mock pout, “you’re just kinda softish, poor widdle limpy Princess Penelope…. You can’t play like the other big boys! You’re just…physically incapable of actual penetrative sex…. But, you know that, though? Don’t you?” she said, applying even more pressure. I looked up at her, dumbfounded as she intensified her efforts, rubbing my hard-on with vigor, “uh-huh” was all I could respond with as I felt it building, developing in my loins, “your manhood isn’t very manly,” she stated, looking back down at the lump between my legs, almost with mock sadness.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, she released me completely and sat back, looking me over with a sly smirk. I heaved and panted, on the very edge, wincing in extreme frustration. “Why don’t you and Amelia have some ‘alone time’? It might make you feel better,” she said with a straight face.

That damned cushion. I didn’t want to fuck the cushion. I looked back up at her, crestfallen, gobsmacked, and a little hurt. “Urmm…..” I looked down at my hard-on, conceding defeat, “Okay. Thank you,” I said softly, meekly, “that’s very kind of you….”

Meeting Sofia’s well-endowed lover was rather peculiar and somewhat surreal. I never imagined I’d ever be in that particular type of situation. Needless to say, the entire day leading up to it, I was a frazzled, anxious mess, despite having made love to Amelia on more than one occasion. My having a release, as pent up as I was, did not do anything in any way to curb my anxieties. In fact, it seemed to drive home further the fact that I was not worthy of Sofia’s intimacy, that I was an inferior male specimen, and somehow, meeting the guy who was fortunate enough to get those privileges seemed to highlight just how pathetic I was. Nothing could be more un-masculine, more submissive, more useless than allowing this way of life. Having been pussy free for such a long time, I convinced myself that having the privilege of at least watching them in the throes of passion, would be the closest thing I could experience to actually having sex with her.

So when the doorbell rang at 6:15 pm, I stood idly by as Sofia approached the front door, excited, giddy, and herself anxious, but on a whole other plane. I nervously stood in the background, fidgeting as the front door swung open. Standing before us was Brad, the infamous Brad. He sure was an impressive male specimen, the polar opposite of me. Firstly, he was a mammoth oak of a man, towering over her with his staggering height. Secondly, he had an unusually wide frame with broad shoulders and arms that resembled tree trunks. Yes, this was a ‘man’ in every sense of the word, and all too suddenly, I very much felt like a small child simply ‘playing grown-ups’. He was quick to hoist her off the ground, holding her tightly in a warm embrace as they shared the most intimate and passionate kiss I’d ever seen.

Of course, I stood by, looking on in envy, feeling very much like a third wheel.

Once she peeled herself away, he locked eyes with me and shot me a crooked grin. The bastard was gloating. It was a grin that made me feel two feet tall and involuntarily caused me to shudder. This was a man who’d experienced pleasures I could only fantasize about. This was a man who got to share bodily fluids with my Sofia regularly… I, on the other hand, wasn’t even allowed to look at her naked body; in fact, I’d never seen her naked at all. It was something I’d been denied since the very beginning of our peculiar relationship.

As this thought lingered in my mind, Brad approached and extended his hand to me, “I’m Brad. I’ve heard an awful lot about you,” he said as he clasped my hand, squeezing it to oblivion, letting me know that he was indeed the man here and that I was nothing more than a neutered, nutless nothing. Sofia continued to nuzzle his neck, her arms wrapped around his impressive torso.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I found myself saying, to which Sofia actually chuckled, fighting hard to suppress her amusement.

From there, Sofia led the way into the living room, where they proceeded to occupy the only recliner in the far corner of the room. I felt a numb pang in my chest as she sat on his lap, crossing her toned, silky legs, her heels dangling in the air as she rested her head on his wide, barrel-like chest. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing just what the hell to do or say. After what felt like an eternity, Sofia eventually broke the ice by saying, “How about some drinks?” She glanced up at Brad, who simply smiled at her.

“Yeah. I’d love a Bud Light,” he said, addressing her, not me.

“Umm… I don’t think we have bud,” I managed to muster, “I have umm, some-”

Before I could finish that sentence, Sofia cut me off, saying, “Isn’t there a liquor store just down the road?” This was more of a statement than a question. I stood there awkwardly with a stupefied expression on my face. “It won’t take you long. The sooner you go, the sooner you get back,” she said, although it felt more like an order.

Red-faced, I lowered my head in shame, aptly submitting, grabbing my keys, and heading out the door. In the background, I could hear muffled chatter, giggles, followed by heavy patting and passionate little kisses. Something I yearned to see at least. I soon realized that this was all an excuse to give them ‘alone time’ in our home. I shuddered as I exited my condo, shaking off nerves as I quickly rushed to the liquor store, more than eager to at least catch some type of show, just in the nick of time before they finished. I was just so sick of missing out on everything; it just seemed like how life went for me. Now, more so than ever.

Fifteen minutes later, I was in the liquor store, clasping a carton of Bud Light, zealously heading out through the checkout, more than eager to head back home as humanly fast as I possibly could. As I tore out of the liquor store parking lot, I unfortunately managed to capture the attention of a patrol officer who’d just commenced his shift. Flashing blue and red lights indicated danger, and as I pulled my vehicle to the side of the road, I sat there riddled with apprehension, just wanting to get this over and done with so I could get home as quickly as I possibly could. In my peripheral vision, I noticed two figures emerging from the patrol car; one headed toward my passenger door, the other directly beside me.

I was momentarily blinded by a torch, grimacing and squinting as the officer literally stuck his head inside my vehicle, taking a curious gander. “Is there a problem, officer?” I asked meekly.

Before me stood a straight-laced, no-nonsense middle-aged patrol officer, almost cliché in nature, everything you’d expect a traffic cop to be. With his blank expression, chiseled jaw, and wide nose, he looked me over with disdain.

Instinctively, I looked over my shoulder, realizing that his partner was, in fact, a young woman. She, too, however, had very masculine, harsh features, despite her femininity. She was attractive, but was very much a force to be reckoned with and had a stern, dominance air about her.

Her eyes met mine with a scornful leer, “Going a little fast, weren’t you?” she asked, inquisitively.

My inability to respond right away resulted in the flashlight being shined in my face once more. I looked in terror at her partner as his eyes wandered over to my passenger seat, noticing the carton of beer. “Big night ahead?” he asked, his eyes burning through my soul. “Urm… no, uhh… not urm… no,” I responded, nervously.

“Started already?” he followed up, sternly, forcefully, inquisitively.

“No, sir. No, I would never, uhhh, I haven’t had anything to drink!” I pleaded, my voice trembling.

“Taken anything? You seem spacey,” his partner asked, staring hard at me, as I sat there, feeling my heart pounding through my chest, not knowing just where the hell this was going, but still very much wanting these assholes to fuck off so I could head home as soon as I possibly could, “no!” I responded, almost defiantly, “I’m in a hurry! Can we please move this along!?” I said this time, almost as though I were forcing myself to show some type of backbone.

I caught the two of them share a look before refocusing their attention on me, both almost amused by my display. “Step out of the car,” he said with a semi-sadistic grin.

“But, why? I told you I haven’t had anything!” I pleaded some more.

“I’m not going to ask you again! Out of the car!” he demanded, slightly raising his voice in such a tone that it sent a shiver up my spine.

I’d never been given a sobriety test before. To say it was demeaning would be an extreme understatement. I found myself standing before the two of them, on one foot as he monitored me with a stopwatch, “and the other one,” his partner ordered as I adjusted myself, changing my legs, struggling to remain standing. In desperation, I glanced over at both of them, with pleading, desperate eyes, hoping to appeal to their sense of decency, “I keep telling you both, I haven’t had anything tonight,” I said, on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

“Maybe….” He began, slowly putting his watch away before looking over at his partner, “Put your hands on the hood of the car and spread your legs,” he demanded. She, in turn, smiled at him before scowling at me, “NOW,” she shouted, reaffirming that the whole situation was dire and that I should be taking this seriously.

Nervously, I approached the car, doing exactly what was requested. I kept my eyes up ahead as I heard him behind me, fumbling with a pair of latex gloves. Anxiously, I looked over my shoulder at him, catching him in a sinister grin as he approached me, “What are you going to do?” I asked, my voice quivering.

In desperation, I looked up at his partner, “What is he going to do?” I asked her, my voice wavering.

“Quiet down,” he reaffirmed, sternly.

With his right hand, he fumbled with my belt, gently unbuttoning my trousers before yanking them to the ground, along with my underpants. I winced as I inhaled sharply, bracing for the worst. I heard him chuckle as he proceeded to manhandle me.

In desperation, I looked up at his partner.

She snickered, amused by what was on display before her.

Like a rag doll, he held me up, showing me off as she took a decent eyeful of what I possessed between my male legs. With his free hand, he clasped my flaccid little member, giving it a slight squeeze, causing me to squeal and wince in pain, “you won’t please a woman with that!” he commented before letting out another chuckle, “It’s like a fucking tube of lipstick! A pink tube!” he joked.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen a feminine penis before,” she commented before adding, “he’s bald too!” she looked up at me with a sadistic grin, “Puberty didn’t come for you? Didn’t it?” she teased.

“Urr, I urr…” I began, trying to find the words to express my shock and discomfort. “Quiet down,” he repeated as he forcefully bent me over the hood of my car.

I felt him moving his hands around my rear. Slowly, he began by spreading my cheeks apart and… without warning, he’d inserted a finger into me, followed by a second. I grimaced in pain, wincing in extreme discomfort. Then, without warning, I felt myself release as I involuntarily urinated all over my legs, practically drenching my pants and underpants on the ground by my feet.

Both of them, of course, let out a laugh, laughter from within. He was letting me know that this was all pretty much just a power play. I stood there, bent over the hood of my car with my bare ass up in the air, red faced, mortifyingly embarrassed and humiliated. His partner stood before me, taking it all in, laughing along with him. Both of them were laughing not only at my lack of masculinity, but at the fact I’d just peed all over myself. I went beet red in extreme embarrassment, so much so, I actually began to shake and convulse in humiliation.

Before I could even muster any type of response to what had just happened, he slipped off his gloves and said, “You’re good to go. Have a nice evening.”

“Good night, ma’am,” she added, as a cruel joke, as they both headed back to their car.

I was too in shock to even move. Seconds later, he turned over his engine before disappearing altogether. I stood there on the side of the road, naked from the waist down, shivering in discomfort with my urine-soaked pants and underpants by my feet, wondering just what the hell had just happened.

When I eventually made it home, I walked into an empty living room. Gently, I placed the carton of beer on the kitchen counter and proceeded to make my way down the hall, anticipating something out worldly. I was expecting to see something semi-pornographic as I approached my master bedroom. It then dawned on me that it was quiet, too quiet. Way too quiet.

I inhaled sharply, trying to shake off my nerves before gently swinging open the bedroom door.

I had missed it. It had just happened, and I’d missed it.

What I’d walked in on was the two of them getting dressed. I stood there like a deer in headlights as I took it all in. Brad was buttoning up his shirt. Sofia was adjusting her skirt. The smell of sex was in the air. The room was musty, the atmosphere was thick, and there was this raw energy lingering in the room, something I was unfamiliar with, yet it was something I yearned for. Sofia had this impish, satisfied, disheveled look to her. Brad, on the other hand, was beaming, satisfied, and spent, almost even a little heroic. In my mind, I likened him to a warrior conquering, plundering emerging victorious in his quest. Both of them looked up at me, she with an almost woozy, disorientated grin and he, with a dominant leer, almost akin to a high school bully who’d just publicly eviscerated me on some level.

Yes, they’d just had a hard passionate fuck and I missed it.

“What took you so long?” Sofia asked, almost tenderly.

Before I could respond, both of them suddenly noticed my drenched trousers. It didn’t take long for them to put two and two together. Brad turned his nose up at me, disgusted and even a little put off by me. It was clear to them that I was standing before them in urine-drenched threads.

“Ugh!” he scoffed before turning away.

“What happened?” Sofia asked curiously, “Have a little accident?”

All I could do was nod, ‘yes’, not wanting to give the full story, too embarrassed to share the extent of what actually happened on my trip from the liquor store.

“That’s disgusting!” Brad exclaimed before barreling out of the bedroom, past me.

Sofia came up close to me, “Aww, honey,” she began tenderly, “I can’t believe you’d embarrass me like this!” She shook her head at me, disappointed.

“I’m sorry…” I said softly.

She shot me a look of pure disdain, shame, and angst, “aww honey….” Her voice trailed off as her eyes met mine once more.

“Brad is taking me out….. maybe you should stay in. Wash yourself off,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment.

I hung my head in shame, too embarrassed to even make eye contact with her in that moment. “I can’t believe you wet yourself like some kind of anxious school child! That’s so disgusting! And in front of Brad too!…..” She paused for a moment before prodding my chin. Amelia is off limits tonight. Understood?” she said with a straight face.

I felt myself suddenly become emotional, and I actually began to weep before her, “aww honey,” she began before giving me a peck on the cheek, “don’t wait up.”

With that, they were both gone.

I stood alone in my condo wondering what the fuck had just happened. All of it was surreal and somehow, despite the embarrassment I was feeling, I also found myself feeling not only overwhelmingly jealous, but also aroused. I grimaced, however, knowing that ‘Amelia was off limits’.

From there, I had an ice-cold shower and made the bed before retreating into the living room, where I spent the rest of the evening waiting for Sofia to return. I was so defeated and broken, I didn’t even bother to put on any clothes. I simply collapsed onto the sofa, staring down hard at my tackle, debating internally as to whether or not I should play with myself. Eventually, I helped myself to a bottle of Jack Daniels, perhaps to escape, just for a little bit. Before too long, I had fallen into a deep sleep as unpleasant dreams haunted me all night.

When she eventually arrived home the following morning, she found me passed out on the sofa, naked. What actually woke me up was the sounds of her taking photos of me. As soon as I realized what was happening, I was quick to shield my privates before shifting uncomfortably, trying to save face. “Hope Amelia is dry….” She teased, before reaching over, gently brushing the crusty soiled cushion beside me, confirming that Amelia hadn’t been fucked the previous evening. She shot me a semi sadistic grin as she stood tall before me, confidently.

“I like you like this,” she admitted.

“What do you mean?” I asked meekly, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than I ever had in my entire life.

“Naked. Like this,” she said with a cheeky smirk. “I think that should be a new rule moving forward,” she added.

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“From now on, when you’re home, you are to be naked. Even when it’s in the middle of winter. I want you naked as the day you were born,” she reached in closer to me and clasped my face with both hands, “understood?” she added. All I could do was nod as I suddenly felt my member begin to stir. This did not go unnoticed by her, looking down at my ripe little hard-on, “Good morning, Princess Penelope!” she teased as I turned three shades of red.

Desperate to change the direction of the conversation, I cleared my throat before forcing myself up out of the sofa, “What did you do last night?” I asked softly.

Sofia shot me a sympathetic look before adding, “adult things…. You wouldn’t understand,” she teased.

I stared at her with my mouth agape, unsure of how to respond, realizing that in an instant our dynamic had changed and our relationship had taken a very sharp turn. In other words, I’d fallen further down the rabbit hole. Realizing that I wasn’t going to get any answers from her whatsoever, I reached over and picked up Amelia, before peering over at her in desperation, “Can I umm…. Can I have some fun with Amelia?” I asked, trembling in embarrassment. She, of course, stared back at me with a wide-eyed smile plastered on her face, “No,” she responded before resting her arms on her hips.

“Prepare me a bath!” she ordered.

From there, I waddled over to the bathroom where I proceeded to do as she’d requested. Of course, once she emerged into the bathroom, I was told to leave and shut the door behind me, driving home the point that I was still very much prohibited from seeing her nude. It stung, but at the same time left me feeling not only extremely jealous of Brad, but also aroused beyond comprehension. I was so pent up and on edge that I almost climaxed as soon as I shut the bathroom door behind me.

She had had fun the previous night. It was clear to me that Brad took her out to dinner, followed by dancing, and then back to his place, where they no doubt spent the remainder of the evening doing nasty things to each other that I could only see in my wildest daydreams and fantasies. It stung knowing I was missing out. I yearned to watch them at least, just once.

As luck would have it, I would get another opportunity the following weekend.

“Brad is staying over tonight,” she declared on the Saturday morning in question.

“Urr….” I cleared my throat, anxiously, “Can I ur….,” I inhaled sharply, trying to get the words out, “Can I watch?” I asked, meekly, softly, submissively.

She stared hard at me for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, her lips curled upward as a cheeky grin washed over her, “Are you sure you can handle that?” she asked me, her tone laced with sarcasm and mockery.

“Please?” I pleaded with her.

This resulted in an eye roll, “let’s see….” she said, letting it linger in the air.

When Brad arrived in the late afternoon, he was shocked to find me standing before him completely naked. Almost immediately, he recoiled in disgust. It was clear to Sofia that my nudity made Brad extremely uncomfortable, so a compromise had to be made. I wouldn’t be permitted to wear my clothes, as Sofia declared I was not a man. Therefore, I was not at all allowed to wear male clothing. Instead, she emerged from our bedroom holding a one-piece pink and white swimsuit. “Put this on!” she demanded.

I stared back at her with my mouth agape. This was on a whole new level of degradation and not at all something I was prepared for. However, I realized that I had absolutely no choice in the matter. So there I was, in the middle of the living room, slowly putting on Sofia’s swimsuit. It clung to my body, giving me an almost feminine appearance. Although I still very much looked like a man, I looked ridiculous. Not quite feminine, not quite masculine, something in between. Something confusing.

Imagine my shock and angst when Brad later declared that his truck needed to be washed.

Sofia shot me a crooked grin as I realized exactly what would be expected of me that afternoon.

Moments later, I found myself outside in my driveway, washing Brad’s truck while he had his way with my Sofia. To make matters worse, I was denied the decency to put on my ‘man clothes’ and instead had to wash his truck whilst wearing that itty bitty pink and white swimsuit. It wasn’t very comfortable, especially when sounds from inside began to travel. As I soaped up Brad’s truck, I could hear the tell-tale sounds of sex: passionate love making. I could hear a deep grunt, a feminine groan, followed by the sound of bedsprings and the headboard banging up against the wall. They certainly weren’t quiet, and it was clear to me he was quite the lover, giving it to her hard and fast as she urged him to plow him with everything he had.

I caught neighbors stealing glances my way. People I used to greet on the street now seemed too mortified to even acknowledge me. In an instant, my reputation in my own neighborhood had been eviscerated and all I could think was how badly I wanted to watch Sofia climaxing on Brad’s massive manly cock, something I knew I didn’t possess, nor could I physically provide.

Later that evening, Brad had ordered in and actually made me answer the door in my embarrassing little outfit.

Of course, there would be no food for me, and I actually made the grave mistake of whining, “Why didn’t you get me anything?! I’m so fucking hungry!” I complained, hoping to get some sort of attention.

And I got it.

“Sorry, little buddy,” Brad was quick to rise up out of his seat and went about, placing some food on a plastic plate for me. I was given some noodles, crumbed chicken, and some dumplings. As I looked over the food, ready to dive in, he stopped me, “Wait!” he said, sternly.

“You can’t eat that without my special sauce,” he said, shooting me a cocky grin.

In desperation, I looked back at Sofia, who was simply staring back up at him in adoration. It seemed as though she were simply getting off by his masculine prowess, his very essence, his dominance, and his arrogance. I was mostly invisible.

What happened next shook me to my very core.

In seconds, he’d fished out his impressive cock. It was already hard and was as impressive as I’d imagined. It had to have been at least eight inches long and was covered in thick blue and purple veins. Underneath it, two plum-sized testicles proudly swung back and forth.

I grimaced and quickly backed away as he proceeded to jerk his mammoth dong over my plate.

Within a matter of seconds, he’d ejaculated all over my meal in thick, powerful ropes.

I sat there, perplexed and humiliated, as Sofia let out a round of applause followed by laughter. Brad stuffed his anaconda back into his pants and took his seat beside her once more. I looked back up at them, mortified and still very much in shock.

“Eat up!” he teased.

Perhaps it was my submissive nature, or my desire to please Sofia, but I actually found myself eating what was before me. All the while, both of them roared and howled with laughter. When I was done, a cum laced burp escaped me followed by an odd aftertaste that I’d never experienced ever before.

“You’ve been such a good little boy tonight,” Sofia declared in between fits of laughter.

“Why don’t you have some fun with Amelia tonight?” she smiled at me before shooting a look back at Brad, “I’m sure Brad would love to see that!”

The End.

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