During my junior year of college, I was enrolled in a course on gender and sexuality studies. It wasn’t my typical class; I was an engineering major, but I needed to take something to fulfill the liberal arts degree requirements. I had hoped for an easy A. Don’t get me wrong, I consider myself a progressive individual. I would comfortably identify as a feminist, but with the rest of my workload, I needed a lighter load.

I consider myself to be a pretty average student on my campus, a little taller than most of the other guys, a little on the lean side. I wasn’t heavily involved in the campus party culture. Admittedly, school hasn’t come naturally to me, so I have to put in extra effort to keep my grades above water. I find engineering to be the most sensible field, but I also find it challenging. I go on occasional dates, but nothing too significant to discuss. I have a few buddies I live with, but I admittedly don’t consider them very close friends. Everything about me could truly be defined by average – well, there is one thing I’d consider below average, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Around the midterms in October, I received my grades back, which included a D+ in Gender and Sexuality Studies. This was a disaster. This could tank my GPA and jeopardize my scholarship, meager as it might have been. My stomach sank. If my grades continue to decline, I won’t be able to study abroad in the spring.

Before I could reach out to my professor, I saw she’d emailed me first. ‘We need to address your performance in my class,’ she wrote. ‘I’m going to be on campus this Saturday. Stop by my office at 1 PM.’ It was unusual for a faculty member to be on campus on a weekend, and I interpreted her email as slightly threatening.

Our professor’s name was Amber. She was an outspoken and brilliant woman in her mid-30s. She had us call her by her first name, though somewhat sheepishly, I couldn’t help but call her “Professor Amber.” There was something slightly intimidating about her, but not in a way that made you want to run away. Strangely, I found her compelling.

She had long, dark blond hair. She dressed professionally, but it wasn’t hard to tell that her ensembles didn’t quite disguise her sizable bust and long legs. Her lectures covered feminist theory dating back to the early 1900s, always connecting back to the modern day. I found myself drifting in and out; I’d consider myself on her side, but some of the high-minded concepts elude me, and I’d rather be spending the time on my other coursework. She’d make the occasional joke about me and the other three boys in the class, but it came across good-natured and I felt in on the joke. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t something slightly enticing about being in a classroom with mostly women who I considered to be bright and passionate.

‘Thank you, Professor Amber,’ I wrote back, ‘I will be there. Look forward to discussing.’

The next day was an unseasonably warm October day. After lunch, I walked to the Liberal Arts Faculty Building. The parking lot was deserted, save for one car parked in the electric vehicle parking space (Professor Amber’s, I was sure). The first door I tried in the building was locked, but the next one worked. I hadn’t had reason to visit this building very often. It was unusual to arrive on a Saturday in the early afternoon. It was quiet, but not in a disturbing way. I popped into the restroom to use the bathroom. I didn’t have to, but I needed to kill 2 minutes before making my way to Professor Amber’s office.

I made my way down the corridor to her office, the motion-sensor lights clicking on as I walked through, seemingly the first person to pass through that way in a while.

I saw her door ajar, tapping my knuckles on the door as I walked in. “Hi, professor,” I said, stepping into the room.

She was seated at her desk, and she looked up at me. Her head moved up quickly, but she didn’t look surprised. It was hard to imagine her being caught off guard; she seemed so self-assured, as if she always knew what was going to happen next.

“Come in,” she said coolly. “Your peers and I have been waiting for you,” she gestured to my right. I turn and see four of my classmates sitting around a table in her office:

Kayla, an Italian-American girl with a large bust and a nose ring. One of the more aggressive feminists in the class; if you misspoke, she’ll call you on it. She was Professor Amber’s star pupil.

Camryn, a skinny, pale wisp of a girl with dyed red hair. She wore dramatic goth makeup, and she had a killer, dirty sense of humor. I never quite knew what to say to her, but she’s wickedly funny, and she always seemed warm toward me.

Lisa, a blonde and perky new convert to gender and sexuality studies, is an eager student. She’d shared in class that she grew up in a conservative home, and only over the summer had she decided to branch out more. She dressed as if she were going to church.

Tasha, with a warm smile, long black braided hair, and an infectious laugh. Friendly yet direct, she was Kayla’s right-hand woman in the class. I had known her previously from taking a few engineering classes with her freshman year, but she changed majors halfway through.

“Oh,” I said, surprised to see them all. “Uh, hi. Thanks for joining us.”

I was trying to sound cordial, but I was puzzled. Professor Amber hadn’t made this sound like a study session, and based on what I’d seen in class, there’s no way these four needed help in this class. Kayla closed the door behind me.

“Our pleasure,” Camryn said with a smirk.

I didn’t register it as an unusual response. I kind of thought maybe she’d cracked a dirty joke before I arrived.

“Your classmates are here to participate in today’s session,” Professor Amber said, standing. “I’ve informed them of your situation.”

There was something a little menacing in her voice. I was here for office hours. I don’t know why we were speaking in such a cryptic manner.

“Well, that’s, uh…” I said, “I appreciate it. I just want to try and get this grade up before the end of the semester.”

“I understand,” Professor Amber said, circling to the front side of her desk so there were only a few feet of space between us. “Young man, let me be very clear with you. I know your type. I have boys like you every year. You science majors think that my little girls’ class is going to be your easy A. So that you can focus on your men’s work—engineering, arithmetic—I’m tired of it, and it stops today.”

I heard a small burst of a giggle from Camryn, who quickly covered her mouth with her hands, barely hiding a smile. I turned back to the group of girls, then back to Professor Amber. This seemed so over the top. What was going on?

“Professor Amber, I really didn’t mean anything,” I said. “I’m a feminist, I’m not trying to disrespect you or your course, I just… I’m not sure. I’m not very good at it. I don’t know what to do, I just don’t pay enough attention, I guess.”

Professor Amber exhaled through her nose. “Well, I think after today, we’re going to ensure you listen well. You will not forget what I teach you today, nor will any of your classmates. Isn’t that right, girls?”

I heard the tittering giggles of all four girls, and they rose from their seats.

“Girls,” Professor Amber said, “Strip him.”

With the crashing sound of metal chairs knocking over in the rush of movement, Kayla and Tasha had grabbed my arms and pulled them behind me.

“What!?” I exclaimed.

In a rush of color and light and dark, I felt my loose t-shirt being pulled over my head by Amber. She swung it over her head in a circle, tossing it into the corner. Then, I felt a firm palm push me hard in the chest. It was Kayla with her free hand. I stumbled backwards, landing on my back on the table they’d just been sitting at. Kayla was now able to hold my hands above my head while Tasha pinned my torso down with her arms.

“Get his jeans!” Kayla said, pointing to my lap. Camryn got to work, while Lisa, the least involved so far, stuck to my sneakers and socks, dropping them on the floor as she finished removing each one.

I felt the pressure of Camryn working aggressively on my pants button and zipper. I could only wriggle my lower half. Kayla and Tasha really had me pinned in a way I hadn’t expected.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa,” I exclaimed, feeling my denim jeans sliding down my legs.

There was more laughter from the four girls now, as it sank in, I was now down to my maroon plaid boxers. Kayla and Tasha pushed me back up to my feet, hands still pinned behind my sore back. I tried to break free, but they had me firmly in their grasp. I looked down and saw myself in my current sorry state – stripped down to my underwear, two girls holding me in position, two others watching, my professor now standing directly in front of me. I looked her up and down, my eyes lingering for only a second on the tip of her exposed cleavage, which I hadn’t noticed previously.

“Ha!” Professor Amber let out a laugh. “Utterly pitiful. Alright, girls, what say we finish the job?”

The girls let out a nervous giggle. They must have been in on this plan, but were they not expecting it to reach this point? I tried to look at them all with pleading eyes, desperately wishing not to be exposed, but I couldn’t make eye contact with any of them. I caught them each staring down at my loose boxers, expectant, waiting for the inevitable reveal.

“Lisa,” Professor Amber said, raising an eyebrow. “Remind me, dear, you haven’t seen a man in such a state of undress before, have you?”

“No, professor,” Lisa said.

Lisa’s face was a strange mix of excitement, fear, curiosity, trepidation… She looked like she had absolutely no clue what could possible be hidden beneath the thin sheet of fabric I was still wearing.

“Excellent,” Professor Amber said with a grin.

She stepped toward me, reaching out and putting her thumbs into my waistband, bending down to get a good grip.

“Then this will be a great learning opportunity for you as well. I hope you won’t be disappointed!” and with that, the professor launched my boxers down my legs with great flourish.

For the first time, the room was deadly quiet. I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me. I felt a slight breeze from Professor Amber’s quick movements, a breeze that brushed onto my now exposed body. Time stood still as all eyes made their way to my now exposed, shamefully small penis.

The aeon of silence came to a crashing end with an uproarious burst of laughter from the girls. “Oh no!” Kayla exclaimed, her nails unintentionally digging into my arms. “Itty bitty!”

“Oh, that’s brutal!” Tasha laughed. “No, no, no, you’ve gotta be kidding me!”

Camryn had fallen back against a bookshelf and was holding her tiny tummy. “Oh my god!” she yelled above the laughter. “That’s not a cock! That’s not a dick! That’s barely a sex organ! It’s just a penis!” The girls laughed harder.

“He doesn’t even have any pubes,” Kayla added on, “but that doesn’t look like he shaves! He’s just bald! He’s got a bald little penis!!”

Lisa had covered her mouth with her hands, her cheeks were bright red, and she was laughing from deep in her belly. “Oh my!” she said, pointing at my small penis. “Okay, that’s not what I was expecting a man’s penis would look like!”

I’d barely registered that in lowering my boxers, Professor Amber had knelt to the ground and was essentially at eye level with my shrunken genitals. She raised her eyes from my penis up to my own eyes.

She let out a long, slow, “Ooooh,” as if a discover had just dawned upon her. “Now this explains it all! You resent us women because you could never please one, so you mock us by entering women’s spaces and behaving like a fool! I should have known!”

She returned her gaze to my penis. I’d never seen her smile like this. The maturity and grace she usually carried herself with had totally evaporated. She reached out to grab a pen on her desk, using the tip of the pen to lift my penis and expose the shrunken testicles below.

“Oh, in all my years, I’ve never seen…” she trailed off, unable to catch herself from another fit of laughter.

The girls had crowded closer, utterly tickled by what they were seeing. Professor Amber dropped my penis, causing it to bounce ever so slightly. Professor Amber stood up, covering her mouth for a moment to regain her composure.

“Now,” she said, staring right at my penis, “We’re going to stick to today’s lesson plan, but we may need to modify slightly.” She turned her attention back up to my face. “Today’s class is going to be, in a word, a presentation. These girls have never seen a penis of such, er, proportions before. And I think they have the right to see a full biological demonstration. Kayla and Tasha are going to release your hands, and we expect you to masturbate yourself to completion.”

The girls let out a laugh and scream.

“Professor, please!” I shouted over them. I lunged forward, but they had my arms tight, just causing my tiny genitals to bounce around ever so slightly with each movement. “Please! I didn’t mean anything by it! Let me go! This is humiliating!”

No girl had ever seen me naked before. Like I said, I didn’t date much, and knowing full well what the reaction would likely be, I never let things progress to the point they might want to.

“We are tired of your excuses, boy,” Professor Amber said. “And we are sick of the disrespect from you STEM majors. It was time you were taught a lesson, and you’re the sacrificial lamb.” She looked back at my penis. “Though you don’t seem to have any wool.”

The girls let out another laugh.

“Girls, release him.”

The girls hesitated, expecting I would run.

“He will do as we say,” Professor Amber said, a hypnotic command in her voice. “He knows he has no choice.”

I felt the hands around my arms loosen. The girls behind me moved to my front, forming a semi-circle of the four of them and Professor Amber, standing around me, some leaning on chairs, bookshelves, or the professor’s desk.

And there I stood, at the center of this audience. I absorbed their rapturous attention, all directed to my nub of a penis, now resting like a shrunken slug on my shriveled scrotum. All my senses were blurring together. It felt as if I were underwater. One of them nudged and whispered to the other one, pointing at my penis as if I weren’t three feet away from her.

Do I run? Do I fight back? Do I cover myself and beg for mercy? I looked Professor Amber in the eyes.

She looked back at me and raised an eyebrow, as if to say, “Go on then.”

I couldn’t even bring myself to look down. I knew how small and strange I looked, utterly hairless. I brought my hand to my penis – Kayla whistled and Tasha clapped – and I wrapped my fingers around it. Camryn’s mouth dropped open, actually shocked that this was really going to happen.

And I started to tug. I tugged, and tugged, and tugged. “No fucking way,” Kayla laughed and clapped.

“Oh, it’s too much,” Tasha laughed, slapping her thighs. “Oh baby, oh no no no, he’s doing it.”

“This is wild!” Camryn cackled. “Stroke, stroke, stroke!”

Lisa sat with a wide grin on her face, staring directly at my penis as if she were watching a science experiment unfold. She said nothing, but her eyes sparkled with delight.

I stood there togging on my small, soft penis. I didn’t know where to look. It felt too depraved to look in their direction, and I couldn’t bear to see what I was doing to myself, so I zoned out, staring at a spot on the floor.

“Stroke, stroke, stroke!” Kayla joined in on Camryn’s chanting, but she was laughing too hard and had to hold onto Tasha for physical support.

“What do you think?” Tasha asked Lisa, grinning. “This is your first penis! Give us your review!”

For some reason, this caught my attention, and without meaning to, I found myself looking right at Lisa. For the first time, I really took her in. She was such a natural beauty. She was wearing a modest cardigan and a long skirt. She looked profoundly beautiful in the midday light coming in from the window.

I continued to pull on my totally flaccid penis, truly only a finger and a thumb making any contact. Lisa looked up at my face and broke into a laugh.

“What do I think of his penis?” she said breathlessly. She looked back down. “His penis is the most disgusting little thing I’ve ever seen!”

The girls fell back laughing, and even Professor Amber cracked up at that.

“I’m sorry, it’s gross!” Lisa said, laughing. “It’s just so small and squishy and awful! Oh god, I hope they’re not all like that! I couldn’t even imagine having to touch that babydick!”

To hear her say ‘touch that babydick’ struck a chord in me. I let out a short, involuntary grunt, and I felt my face flush red. For the first time, I could feel my penis start to stiffen. While the size didn’t change much, it was apparent that Lisa’s comment had invigorated something in me.

“Uh-oh, Lisa,” Camryn said in a sing-song voice, “Someone’s got a crush on you!”

“Ew!” Lisa screamed, with a level of horror in her voice as if a spider had crawled onto her dress.

The shock made the others howl with laughter.

To my own horror, I was actually getting into this, and I felt myself fall backwards slightly, so I was now in a seated position on the edge of a table. I started to pant as I tugged more aggressively.

“Girls,” Professor Amber said. “I would never make you touch something so wretched and unsettling as this excuse of a penis.” The girls guffawed. “I would hate to ruin sex for you forever!” She took a step toward me. “But this fool has pleasured himself in front of us long enough, producing nothing. It’s time I take this into my own hands, pardon the pun.”

Kayla gasped, “Professor, are you really?”

“No fucking way,” Tasha said, beaming. “Oh, that’s so bad.”

Professor Amber stood over me. “Release your penis.”

Totally under her control, I let go of my now erect three and a half inch dick. I was panting. My little penis stood up from my body, a proud little soldier standing at full attention.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself!” Camryn called out. “At least it’s starting to look like a dick—only in miniature.”

Without warning, I felt Professor Amber’s hand grab the entirety of my genitalia. I let out a sharp exhale. Both of my testicles and my totally erect penis, engulfed in this woman’s hand. I hadn’t noticed until I felt the cold metal on me that she was wearing elegant bracelets. Her nails were slightly long and painted a deep blue.

I had never been touched by a woman before. I let out an involuntary noise, a cross between a whimper and a moan. “This won’t take long,” Tasha said with a smirk.

Professor Amber stood to the side of me, allowing the girls to get a good look. She rested her free hand on my back, providing some support. Her hand moved from holding the entirety of my manhood to wrapping a few of her long, elegant fingers around my penis.

“We’ll be done here soon, girls,” the professor said with a smirk.

She released my penis so that it was now resting on her palm, leaned forward, and spat right on me.

“Oh!” Kayla shouted.

“She knows her stuff,” Camryn laughed approvingly.

“Take note, Lisa,” Professor Amber said. “Lubricant is best, but saliva is a sufficient backup.”

Two of her fingers wrapped around me, and she started vigorously stroking, tugging right at the root of my penis, flicking her thumb under the tip of the shaft.

“Oh, whoa, oh!” I exclaimed.

I couldn’t help myself. I even felt myself starting to thrust between Professor Amber’s fingers.

“He’s fucking her fingers!” Tasha said, pointing at me. “Come on, man, have some dignity!”

“His dignity left long ago,” Kayla said.

“If he ever had any,” Camryn sneered.

“I, oh, um,” I stammered.

This was unreal. Jerking myself off had never felt this good. Professor Amber’s grip was tight, but the spit kept slipping between her fingers expertly.

“I, Professor, I, I’m going, I…”

I couldn’t even speak. The tip of my penis turned redder and redder between the woman’s fingers.

“He’s gonna cum!” Camryn shouted.

Professor Amber could feel the release building inside me. She held her free hand out in front of me. “Go on, boy,” Professor Amber said. “Cum for us. Show these girls what little you have.”

Her stroking went faster and faster, her fingers swiftly gliding up and down my entire length.

“Cum! Cum! Cum!” Camryn and Tasha chanted. Kayla was digging her fingers into her own thighs, staring mouth agape. Lisa’s face was a mix of confusion and enrapture, as if she was watching a car crash in slow motion.

I looked up directly into Professor Amber’s eyes, and she looked into mine. “Cum,” she commanded simply. And with an involuntary moan, my head fell backwards, and I released into her free hand.

My vision went blurry for a second. All the noise in the room sounded like I was underwater. I heard laughs, claps, and cheers.

When I looked up and regained my vision, Professor Amber was showing off her palm full of my cum, which had to be less than a tablespoon. She looked like she was displaying a trophy. The girls leaned forward.

“Disgusting,” Lisa said, but laughed as she said it.

Professor Amber turned back toward me. She pressed her cum-covered hand against my torso, rubbing my own cum back onto me. “You can have your mess back,” she said, and the girls laughed again.

“That will be all for today,” Professor Amber said, stepping away from me. She turned back. “Go.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, I grabbed my pants from the floor – to hell with the shirt and the underwear and the socks. I stumbled out of the office, tripping and falling to the floor, scrambling to put my pants on. I heard the girls’ laughter echoing as I made my way down the hallway.

Days and weeks passed, and nobody ever referenced what happened that day again. I caught what I thought were knowing looks from my female classmates, who had been in attendance, but no verbal acknowledgement. If I weren’t sure, part of me might have wondered if the whole thing was a dream.

For the rest of the semester, I was a diligent student in my gender and sexuality studies class. I turned in all assignments on time, I spoke up in class, and I studied for the final exam more than in any of my other classes. Ultimately, I received a B+.

Walking out of Professor Amber’s class on the last day, I swear she gave me a genuine smile. In her eyes, I had been redeemed by the events that took place in her office and how they shaped me.

I wonder if she knows I signed up for her 102-level course next spring, rather than going abroad!

 

The End.

 

 

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