Signed & Surrendered
A Fictional Story by MinimusPuck.
This must be the place, but I’m hesitant. The motor’s still running. I could just drive away now, and it’d all be a memory that never happened. Something I can forget.
I’m in my junior year at university. I’m 5’11 and 160lbs. I’m lean. Not because I work out all the time, but because I’m hungry.
My dates, if I’m lucky enough to get a yes, are disappointingly cheap, and by the end of the evening, the woman is more interested in heading back to her place for a midnight snack that I’ll not be invited to.
Since I was chronically low on cash and such a cheap date, my ears pricked up when I overheard my friend Jessica, an art major, mention how her department needed volunteer models.
‘How much do they pay?’
‘Colin,’ She blushed. ‘You would NOT be interested.’
‘You said they pay, right?’
She hid her smile behind her notebook.
‘It’s a nude modeling gig.’
Naturally, I played it off, acting like the idea totally put me off. But I needed rent money, so later I looked it up on the university website.
“Fifty bucks an hour.” And I could see that no one had signed up. There were spaces open for all four hours.
Two hundred bucks.
I’ll admit, my heart was pounding as I signed up for every single day I could. I even got a little turned on at the thought.
Jessica would see me. She had to know I was in great shape. She’d seen me working out at the gym. And besides, she was cute, in her own artsy way. Who knows, maybe I’d meet some chick who would be overcome with desire and throw herself at my naked body.
Or I’d at least get a few phone numbers. My mind ran away with such fantasies.
It was a few weeks out, and honestly, I forgot about it until I got an email the week before:
“Dear Mr. Forsyth,
We would like to thank you again for signing up for the position of ‘Stationary Art Model” for the fall semester Course INTRO ART 1001.
Please be aware of the following:
-Models must be physically fit enough to stand or sit for the entire hour.
-This position will involve Complete Nudity.
-Models must practice proper hygiene. Aesthetics regarding hair removal are entirely up to the model.
-Male models will be expected to practice self-control and remember to relax and breathe. Models are encouraged to relieve tension beforehand.
-If the Model declines on the day of, he will be expelled.
I’m not gonna lie. I had to remember to breathe. Just seeing the word nudity… It all became very real. I took a deep breath and exhaled.
So no red flags. The expelling bit was a bit harsh, but whatever. I wouldn’t lose my cool, not for that money. And that self-control bit was probably subtle encouragement not to get too turned on.
Good advice. I cranked it every day in the lead-up. Of course, I was cranking it to the idea of posing. Of Jessica being there. Of her seeing my cock and sucking it in front of everyone. Of the absolute fuckfest we would have after it was over.
Nudity. Completely.
On the big day, I learn there’s a change in the schedule; everything’ll be pushed back a bit, but I’ll still get paid if I model for a few visiting artists from some international art group. I don’t care. In fact, it would be better, knowing I’d never see any of these people again, made it easier.
Even Jessica, I mean, I would totally jump into bed with her, but there was no need in risking a friendship. Plus, it would pay me the full two hundred for one hour of stripping down. Why the hell not?
The whole thing ended up being pretty unerotic. I didn’t even get to make a show of stripping, as I’d planned. Flexing my way down to my briefs and then slid them off slowly. The art department staff kept making it feel less than compelling, possibly on purpose.
I was given a robe and told to undress in a closet before I came back out. And then during the session I was told to fold it down depending on what part of me was supposed to be painted. It was boring stuff.
But when the moment of truth came, the big reveal, I was more than ready; finally letting the robe fall to the floor felt great. Maybe I should have mentioned this already, but I pack a bit of a punch. I’m five inches soft, and I grow two more if I’m hard. So nothing to be ashamed of.
And that’s when I notice her. And I still don’t know how I didn’t before. She looked like a stereotypical Scandinavian model: pale blond hair, pale blue eyes, porcelain-pale skin, a bit on the thin side, like she could have been a model herself. She was the only one in the class who was interesting. Or, I mean, interested in me. She wasn’t wearing anything special, just leggings and a low-cut t-shirt, but she kept leaning over, showing me her cleavage like she wanted me to notice her.
So why should I disappoint her?
Towards the end of the session, I even got a little hard, and I could swear to God she licked her lips. She wanted me. She wanted my cock. It’s not that I’m huge, but I’m bigger than most. And combine that with my body and my good looks, and well, let’s just say I’m used to having my pick of chicks.
So I made up my mind, I’d pick her.
Afterward, the model gets to see what the painters have come up with if he gives a shit.
It was some pretentious bullshit, but it gave me an excuse to stick around, wearing only my robe, which I figured at some point, I’d “accidentally” let the sash open and pretend not to notice, thus giving this chick an extra peek of me. Everybody else talked about my “erogenous aura,” whatever the fuck that is. Most of the pictures didn’t look like me, so I was pretty put off.
Except hers. She even managed to catch my erection in one of them. So naturally I told her she was a great artist, super talented and all that. I kept using that phrase “androgynous aura” a lot so she would think I’m one of those sensitive artsy types.
It worked like a charm. We hit it off. Her name is Alexa. Her accent was cute, too.
I hadn’t had a foreign chick yet, so I figured, why not? Things are going well, but then she lets it slip that she’s married. And I’m bummed, but then she starts telling me about what a loser he is, and then she mentions that he can’t satisfy her in the sack.
At that point, my hands are tied; it’s not my fault, right? She’s practically begging me to fuck her. I mean, I’m not the one that’s married. So what if I ruin her marriage? Even if they divorce, they’ll both be happier in the long run. They’ll both be free to fuck whoever they want.
She gets to fuck a stud on her way out of holy matrimony, and he’ll get on with his life. Or maybe learn he should just eat more pussy. Everybody wins.
She invites me for Fika, a Swedish coffee, she says, which I’m hoping is something else, but sadly isn’t. We meet at the corner shop café, and she’s wearing a flannel shirt and super tights like they’re leggings. I’m already dreaming of burying my face into her.
So it comes as a bit of a surprise when she starts asking me about my job history, which isn’t much outside of university, but I lie, tell her I’ve done some modeling shoots. She asks specifics, so I keep it as vague as possible. I work with up-and-comers. She asks me if it’s TFP. I have no idea what that means, so I tell her sometimes. It’s getting a bit boring, like I’m at a job interview. She asks me about my dating history, and again I stay as vague as possible: “Nothing serious.”
At this point, I’m thinking of an excuse to split, but she keeps pestering me with questions… Am I a vegan? No. A Vegetarian? No. Do I drink alcohol? I’m not a super romantic guy, but come on. Try not to suck all the feeling out of things.
Just as I’m about to fake a phone call to leave, she brings up her limp dick loser husband again. I hold back on sending the message. She tells me why it’s not working out, why he’s no good in bed.
He’s little like three inches. She tried to measure it one time, and he got his poor little feelings hurt. At this point, I have a hard time not laughing. I ask her why she even married him if he’s such a loser.
‘Money.’
Turns out he’s loaded. A heavyweight. Was a famous radio psychologist in the early 2000s when talk radio was still a thing, and made the right investments. Something pharmaceutical. Made a boatload of cash. And then she starts telling me about his achievements. All these awards he won in Sweden. How the show was broadcast in Sweden AND Finland.
I shrug. Good for him. Whoop-dee-fucking do. You married him for his dough. I get it.
You don’t need to convince me. Times are tough. I know for myself. So I’m about to send the text to my friend anyway, but then I think it’s not even worth bothering him over this.
‘So where is this going?’ I ask as bluntly as I can.
Cards on the table. Chips where they lay. Are we gonna fuck or not?
She says for all his success, the dude has some major hangups. Like he’s so loaded but can’t get a load off unless he’s sissified.
I tell her I don’t know what the fuck that means.
And she starts telling me. Dude likes wearing her panties and pretending to be a chick. Stockings, wigs, even her bra. The whole 9 yards. Really off the rails stuff. The guy needs a psychiatrist himself! She thought he was gay, but he swears he isn’t. Jerks off to her all the time. Loves to be put down by her. Stepped on. Dominated. One time she even fucked him with a strap on. He came like a little bitch.
I. Am. Blown. Away. What the fuck? And where the fuck do I come into this?
She tells me she wants me. I don’t blame her. At all. I mean, I don’t want to break up a marriage or anything, but some itches need to be scratched. She starts telling me how weird and wild she wants to get with me. But there’s just one catch: She tells me he wants to be there too.
I’m turned off immediately. No fucking way. But then she tells me she wants him to be there too. To watch me fuck her.
My eyes narrow with suspicion.
‘He’s just gonna watch, right?’ The last thing I need is a dude sneaking up behind me when I’m at the moment of truth.
She gives me this sexy smile, her eyes very full of desire.
‘That’s up to you.’ She says playfully.
I throw my head back and laugh. The whole café turns to us.
‘I don’t need any help in that department.’ I say confidently. What am I gonna do with him and his useless dick around? I’m still on the fence but considering it, if only just for the sake of having a wild story to tell.
Then she tells me about the money if he’s allowed to be there.
A hundred bucks an hour. Four hundred total. Plus another hundred if I can last the four hours.
Five hundred bucks total. Just to do this chick in front of her husband.
I play it cool. I sip my coffee and tell her I’ll think about it.
And I did for about six seconds.
‘Sure. Sign me up.’
Turns out she’s got all this paperwork in her briefcase: all very legalese, abstract shit. I read through the first pages. All about consent. About how no one’s going to get hurt. And no one is a sex worker. Yeah, I figure. Probably for the best, I mean I’m not a fucking hooker after all.
A few John Hancocks and initials later, and it’s all squared away. She tells me if it all goes smooth and I make a good impression, it might turn into a regular thing.
So if I’m a hooker, at least, I’ll be a well-paid one. Five hundred bucks for one night. Easy money…
*****
I am given an address to meet her out in the middle of nowhere. Takes an hour to get there. I pull up, and it’s a gated facility. I’m impressed, but shrug it off; the dude is loaded, after all. As I pull up, this guy in black slacks and a windbreaker starts walking up to my car.
‘Meester Seems?’ He asks in another Nordic accent. Sims is the name I’m supposed to answer to.
‘Yeah, that’s me. Sims.’
He checks his watch.
‘You are late.’ He said it in a way I don’t appreciate.
‘I was lost.’ I tell him. I’m only a few minutes late.
He stares at me for a long time before he opens the gate and tells me where to park.
I pull up to the house, and it’s not massive; it’s just really, really tall. Like some compensating architect built it. Knowing what I know about the guy, this is a major issue for him. But I guess if you have the money, you can shell it out on ridiculous crap like a dick-shaped tower in the middle of nowhere.
I park in front of the house, and Alexa is there to greet me. She’s looking hot, wearing makeup and a trench coat. And I hope nothing is on underneath.
She greets me with a double kiss on the cheek and then a kiss on my mouth with tongue. She’s ready and so am I.
‘Trouble finding the place?’
‘A bit remote.’
‘Raif enjoys his privacy.’
Raif. Jesus, this’ll be easy money.
‘Who was the prick out front?’
‘That’s Sebastian. Don’t mind him. He’s paid to be a bit protective.’ She hands me a few capsules and an obnoxiously small bottle of water. ‘I hope you do not mind taking some vitamins for stamina.’
‘Good idea.’ I say, can’t hurt to have a little extra insurance. I whacked off before I came, but why not. This is serious money.
I pop the pills like candy, and she takes me inside. The place is pristinely clean, designed like something out of a fantasy movie. Kinda cool, kinda creepy. I guess this is what money looks like. We turn the corner, and an elevator and a guy are standing beside it. He doesn’t look like a loser. He looks tough.
‘This your husband?’ I ask, a bit taken aback.
‘Bodyguard.’ She says, correcting me. ‘Among other things.’
I wanted to ask what other fucking things he was among, but just as she tells me this, she drops right out of her trench coat, and she’s wearing this sheer white gown that’s basically translucent. An exhale escapes me, and I run my hand over my head. I could expect a body underneath, but she’s got the perkiest little ass I’ve ever seen.
‘Top floor, Nikolai.’ She says as she owns him. And maybe she does.
Nikolai hits the button for the elevator while I take the opportunity to check out Alexa’s body. Her nipples are already poking through her see-through dress, and I could see her black thong disappearing into the cheeks of that perfect ass.
I whistle. But I remember that I’ve got to keep my cool. Five hundred bucks are on the line. More if I don’t fuck it up. Just need to size up the husband, and then I’ll be deep inside her for the next few hours. Stay professional! Hopefully those stamina vitamins kick in. Whatever they were. I remember she said her husband was in pharmaceuticals, so it had better be the good shit.
The elevator door closes, and she’s on me. First, I’ve got my hands on her tits, and then I remember that perfect, perky ass. I’ve grabbed six in my life. And Alexa’s beat them all by a long shot.
Before the bell rings, she shoves me away.
‘Easy, tiger.’ She says in that sexy accent. ‘This is an American saying, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, it is.’ I say, heavy with desire and already hard.
The bell dings and the door slides open. She steps into the pitch-black room, disappearing in the dark. I follow her.
It takes a while for my eyes to adjust. The only light coming in is from the moon outside.
Minimalist style too. A bit off-putting, but I guess they wanted all the attention on the view, which is impressive, overlooking the forest below. Nothing for miles except a few radio towers. Wonder if he owns them.
A banker’s lamp flicks on. It must have been rigged to a few more lamps because they all turn on at the same time too. There was a black leather desk in the office. And an ex-military-looking dude standing at attention. He’s in his late forties or early fifties. Hard to tell because he’s in good shape. Weird haircut, going bald, but it’s long in the back. A skullet. Slacks and a polo shirt. He’s a helluva golfer, I’m sure.
I nod to him, but he doesn’t nod back.
‘Another bodyguard?’ I ask.
‘No, this is Raif, my husband.’
Ah, Raif. We meet at last. I get another look at the guy. He was NOT what I was expecting. He was muscular, but not like he works out or anything like that. More like he’d been a wrestler when he was younger and kept in shape.
‘This is the young man?’ He asks expectantly, as if he doesn’t make much of me. And I won’t lie, I’m a bit intimidated. I can see why he was such a success on the radio; his voice has timber, bass, baritone, all that shit. And he looks tough. A little scary even. Has these cobalt blue eyes that unnerve you if you try to match them. Why this guy would ever need a bodyguard, I have no idea.
‘Yes, honey. The one I was telling you about.’ Alexa says gently. ‘His name is Colin.’
Raif is unimpressed.
‘Ah yes. The model.’ He says with a scoff, his voice dropping into a new octave. ‘Well. Here you are.’
He takes an envelope out from a drawer on the desk and drops it onto the table with a thud.
‘Five thousand American dollars. You want to count it?’
I blink in disbelief. Did they make an error? That’s ten times what I was promised.
‘I trust you.’ I say, trying to sound cool.
‘Don’t.’ He says coldly. ‘It would be a very big mistake.’
Trying not to lose face, I step forward and look at the money. I have to count it a few times because I keep losing track, but it’s all there: twenty-one hundreds.
Forty fifties.
And fifty twenties.
Five thousand fucking dollars.
‘It’s all there.’ I say.
‘I know.’ He says with an edge to his voice. ‘So my wife’s told you what you are here to do?’
I look back at Alexa; she’s leaning against the wall with a cigarette in one of those long black holders. She’s made her tongue into a taco and is pushing the cigarette holder into it.
‘Yeah.’ I begin. ‘She-‘
‘Sir.’ He says, correcting me. ‘You think you can come here and fuck my wife and not show me respect?’
I let him have his moment. Okay, fine. You’re tough. You’re in charge, you little dicked prick.
‘Sir.’ I say, correcting myself.
‘That’s it, baby.’ Alexa says soothingly as she blows a cloud of smoke. ‘Don’t be afraid to make him show you respect.’
What a fucking loser. Must be part of the game. I tread lightly—five grand on the line.
Even though he’s burning holes into me with that stare.
And then I hear a thud on the table. I look down, expecting more money.
Instead, I see his cock resting on the table. And it ain’t no three inches. He’s at least my size when I’m at my hardest. Definitely not what I was expecting. I glance back at Alexa, who is unreadable, before I look back at Raif.
‘Look at him. He’s speechless, sweetie.’ Alexa says.
I am. I take a step back in disbelief. I feel my own cock shrink a bit at the sight of his. Not what I was expecting at all.
‘You will find the dressing room there.’ Raif says, nodding to a door. ‘Your costume is waiting for you.’
‘Ccc–cccostume?’ I stammer.
He doesn’t say a word—just this little smile on his mouth.
‘Think of it like it is a disguise.’ Alexa coos into my ear. ‘You don’t want to be recognized, do you?’
I’m getting a little nervous at this point.
‘Recognized?’ I ask with a nervous laugh. ‘Are we committing a crime here?’
‘We might be. If you hadn’t signed the contract.’ Raif says authoritatively. ‘Now the only crime would be a breach of contract if you back out. Now get changed.’
What? What the fuck did I sign? What the fuck?
I shuffle back towards the dressing room. I don’t want to turn my back on this guy.
‘Don’t forget your money.’ Raif tells me.
I look back down at the table, his flaccid cock still resting next to the cash. I’ll be honest, I’m afraid of it, like it’s a snake that might bite me. My hand inches towards the envelope and I pick it up, carrying it with me as I back away towards the dressing room.
What did I get myself into?
The dressing room is big and empty, which makes it feel even bigger. There’s a mirror, a sink, and a stool. And a suit bag on a hanger. My fingers are trembling at this point. I unzip the bag and find a black minidress and a blonde wig waiting.
What in the actual fuck?
As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door, and it opens; it’s Alexa. I hold my shit until she shuts the door behind her before I lay into her.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ I demand. ‘You said your husband had a small prick. That I was supposed to cuck him. And fuck you. What am I doing here?’
‘Calm down. Calm down.’ She tells me, even though I am as calm as I can be in the moment.
I turn back to the hangar.
‘And this? What am I supposed to do with this? You expect me to put this on?’
She nods.
‘Of course I do. It was all in the contract that you did not bother to read.’
I blink before shaking my head in disbelief.
‘I’m not wearing a fucking dress. Or a wig. Or any of this shit. A wig? I mean, are you serious?
What the fuck?’
‘So you’d rather be recognized?’ She asks flatly.
‘You keep saying that, what do you mean “recognized?”‘
‘It’s all going to be filmed, Colin.’ She tells me. ‘It was in the contract. We’re offering you a way to distance yourself in case there are any leaks later on.’
Filmed? Leaks? The only distance I want is from this place.
‘Like hell.’ I say, making for the door. ‘I’m out of here.’
Alexa shrugs.
‘You’re free to go. But the money stays. It’s five grand, Colin. Tax-free. It would change a lot for you. Imagine what you could do with that money.’
My hand is on the door handle. It is a lot of money. But I can’t. I take the envelope out of my coat pocket and set it on the counter by the sink.
‘Look, I just can’t do it.’
‘Oh, Colin,’ she sighs. ‘You already signed the contract and the release form. If you back out now, Raif’s lawyers will ruin your life, first with legal fees and then a scandal. He’s done it before. And I don’t want that to happen to you. You seem like such a nice guy. Besides, he likes you.’
‘Oh really?’ I ask as I roll my eyes.
Alexa moves towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck.
‘Oh yes,’ She whispers. ‘And I like you too. And you must know, I showed him the painting of you every night the past week. He was quite taken with you. He believes you have so much potential. So do I. So much androgynous aura. He’ll be so very disappointed if you leave.’
I’m already turned on with her pressed against me. I sigh. It is a lot of money.
‘And what am I supposed to do?’
‘Just relax, Tiger.’ She says, releasing me and turning to an old globe. She opens the globe and begins pouring a scotch. ‘Have a drink if you like and just try to have some fun. Now get dressed. Completely. Raif wants to get to know you a bit better first.’
‘Oh, I’m sure there’ll be great conversation.’ I mutter.
‘Before I forget, here, remember to put this on.’ She says, handing me an anal plug.
‘Are you serious?’ I protest. ‘What am I supposed to do with that?’
‘Wear it for me. Sometimes I like to tickle my men there. And remember, there will be a bonus for you if you perform well.’ She says as she hands me a glass of scotch to steady my nerves.
I hold the thing tight in my fist. Unbelievable. Are all Europeans like this?
‘That scotch is older than you are.’ She tells me. ‘It’s older than both of us put together.’
I drain it in a gulp. Fuck it. And fuck her. Think of the money. Think of the bonus, whatever the fuck that’ll be.
‘Another.’ I tell her.
She pours another. Okay. So this won’t be easy money, I think, but it will be money. Ten times more than I thought it would be. And I will be in disguise; no one’ll recognize me. Even if this will be the weirdest fucking night of my life. A story I won’t tell anyone.
She watches me as I get undressed. I’m getting nervous. More nervous than I was when I had sex for the first time. And way more nervous than I was when I modeled for her. It’s almost ironic. I’d laugh, but I’m starting to shake.
‘Where’s he from? Your husband?’ I ask, trying to make things less awkward.
‘We are from Sweden.’ She answers flatly.
I’m down to my briefs. And I’m trembling. I take a deep breath, and I pull my boxer briefs down. It’s not just my imagination; my dick has shrunk. It’s like he’s scared too. I’m maybe four inches. I can’t even think of how it compares to Raif. Jesus, I’m in over my head.
‘Don’t forget.’ She says, reminding me of the anal plug. ‘Lubricate it first.’
‘Huh?’
‘You must lubricate it first.’ She says, nodding to a bottle on the table nearby.
‘It’s not going to get stuck inside me, is it?’ I ask.
‘It never has before. But rest assured, Nikolai is a trained physician.’ She yawns.
‘The dude running your elevator is a trained physician?’ I ask in confusion.
Alexa nods.
‘A proctologist.’
‘Your doorman is a proctologist?’ I ask in even more confusion.
‘We pay better.’
*****
I pump some oil onto the anal plug and insert it into my ass. I exhale as I push it in. It fills me up; I grunt at the feeling. It’s not unpleasant, but it will sure as hell take some getting used to.
With every micromovement, I can feel the damn thing inside me. I move, but it doesn’t. It’s always there, massaging me. I blow air out of my mouth. Whoa.
‘Now get dressed,’ she tells me firmly as if losing patience.
I open the suit bag and lay the dress on the counter. There’s everything: stockings, panties, even a little bralette. I turn back to her one last time.
‘You’re really serious about this?’ I ask. A bit relaxed from the booze.
‘My husband is interested in lesbians. I am not,’ she tells me in a matter-of-fact tone as she blows a cloud of smoke from her cigarette.
I nod. Okay. Fine. But whatever.
I start with the panties, pulling them up my legs. They scrape against my thighs, and I immediately see my legs differently. All the little muscles I have seem more pronounced.
More defined. And then I pull them all the way up my hips. They are snug against me. I’d put on a pair a girlfriend had left at my apartment once just to see how they’d fit, but my dick was spilling out of them.
But for some reason this pair covers me completely. And I’ll be honest, I’m glad just to have something on again, even if it’s this. And maybe it’s the booze talking, but especially this. I went from being just some sexy dude to something… else.
I pull the stockings on next; they’re a bit like pants, except not at all. They only go up to my thighs. I realize there’s no way I’ll be able to tell anyone about this. Fuck. It was probably in the fucking contract. Why didn’t I read the damn thing? How did I get myself into this?
‘You hook them to your panties, sweetie,’ Alexa tells me as if I’m one of the girls.
My panties, she says. Jesus, I am in so fucking deep. This is insane. Am I even doing this for the money anymore?
I sneak a glance at myself in the mirror, to my surprise and relief. I really don’t look all that bad. In fact, I look kinda hot. Everything looks framed well. I blink a few times and even turn a bit to check out my ass. The panties are hugging my cheeks rights. I look… hot.
‘Enough of that, dear. You’re on Raif’s cock now.’
I turn sharply to Alexa.
‘What did you say?’ I ask
She looks at me like I’m an idiot.
‘I said you’re on Raif’s clock! Pose on your own time.’
Embarrassed, I quickly pull the bralette on over my chest, adjusting it to make sure it covers my nipples. When she checks her phone, I risk another glance and check myself again.
Damn, I do look good.
I put the dress on next. It’s tight on me and could be longer, the bulge in my panties poking out at the bottom.
‘Are you finally ready?’ She asks, handing me the wig.
I take a deep breath.
‘As ready as I’ll ever be,’ I answer as I carefully put it on. It looks a bit like her hair—same style and length. We don’t look like sisters, but maybe cousins or something. Gee-sus, this is some strange shit.
She leans into me and kisses me on the cheek.
‘Let’s break a leg now, Tiger,’ she says with a pat on my ass and a push towards the door.
I half expect Raif to be still standing by the desk with his dick out, but to my relief the boardroom’s desk is gone, and the room is now set up like a dinner table. A long, cold boardroom meeting table.
And Raif is waiting there, but not with his dick out.
‘Dinner is served.’ He mutters, gesturing to the lineup of dishes with those metal tops over them to keep them warm. When the hell all this was set up, I have no idea. ‘I hope it’s still warm.’ He complains as if he was the one who cooked it and had been kept waiting.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Raif. What’s for starters?’ I say flatly as I take a seat.
The liquor has relaxed me, and even the plug has me feeling a bit sedated as well. I shift in my seat. It’s definitely still there! Just get through the next few hours. The money is yours no matter what. We signed a contract; if this is how they want to spend the time, fuck it. And fuck the bonus, too. I’m walking out of here with five fucking grand.
Forty fifties.
Twenty hundreds
And fifty twenties.
Five fucking grand.
Raif removes the tops of the plates and breathes into each like he’s getting high off it. I can’t tell what “it” refers to. Some kind of sauce with a few flower petals on the side that I’m not sure if I’m supposed to eat. It looks like baby food.
‘Artichoke spinach foam,’ He says in an overpronounced way that makes me think it really is just baby food.
He digs in, using his fork and knife to eat the stuff. It is impressive, honestly, the pointless discipline it would take to force yourself to eat this restrained way. I use a spoon. It’s pretty rich stuff.
The next course is more baby food, but also some kind of bird that I can only hope is not a pigeon. But even if it is, it tastes okay. It’s like food from a five-star restaurant. I barely recognized a thing on the plate, but it all tastes good. What I expect to be salty is sweet and what should be sweet is salty.
‘The banana pineapple paste is delicious,’ Alexa says. ‘It complements the duck oh so perfectly.
Raif sighs as if it could be better, his eyes shifting back to me.
‘She looks good.’ He says to Alexa about me or to me about Alexa; I can’t tell.
Alexa exaggeratedly leans over the table, reaching out and resting her hand upon his wrist.
‘Anything for you, baby. Did I tell you she was a model?’
She? Huh?
Alexa turns back to me.
‘Raif gave you a compliment, dear.’
‘Thanks,’ I say quietly as I knock back another glass of bourbon. ‘And thanks for dinner.’ I say, trying to sound grateful. ‘I’ve never had banana pineapple puree before. Or duck.’
‘I figured,’ Raif says rather accommodatingly. He is warming up to me. ‘It could be better. By the end of the night, you’ll have had many things you’ve never tried before.’
I glance over at Alexa in confusion.
She shakes her head as if I shouldn’t be worried.
‘Alexa tells me you were six inches. Impressive.’
‘Six and a half,’ I say, correcting him. I’m unsure of what he meant by were, but whatever, English ain’t his mother tongue.
That odd little smile pops back onto his face.
‘And how big are you and your androgynous energy now?’ he asks smugly.
I stop chewing. Shifting in my seat, I can even feel I’ve shrunk a bit. I swallow my food and try to pat myself not too obviously.
I am smaller. What the fuck? I look back up at him, and he’s amused. I turn to Alexa, and she’s smiling as if it doesn’t matter. She shakes her head. Don’t worry.
‘I asked you a question, my dear,’ he says with authority. ‘How big?’
I pat myself again. I’m maybe three inches.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask, still not wanting to panic.
‘Relax, dear.’ Alexa tells me, ‘It was all in the contract.’
As if that’s a fucking comfort.
‘What the fuck was in the contract? I didn’t read any of it!’ I declare, bursting to my feet.
Raif enjoys my outburst.
‘It’s not permanent, dear,’ Alexa tells me. ‘But you will experience some immediate shrinkage from the vitamins you took.’
‘It’s not permanent?’ I ask to make sure.
Alexa shrugs.
‘At least as far as we know. You’d have to speak to Nikolai about it.’
‘The protologist doorman?!?!’ I ask as I pat myself—still three inches. I’m somehow comforted by that. I’ve still got three inches.
‘How long will I be like this?’ I ask.
Again, Alexa shrugs.
‘A few days. Or weeks. Or months. However long you want. We have vitamins to reverse the process. If you had bothered to read the contract…’
I fall back in my seat, shocked, relieved and… aroused. I glance down at my crotch. For some reason, I’m actually turned on.
‘An erection? Oh! That’ll make it shrink faster.’ Raif says approvingly. ‘As the blood rushes to your penis, it will even cause further shrinkage. Dr. Nikolai is a genius.’
I pat myself again.
Jesus Christ, he’s right. I’m down to two inches. If that. There’ll be nothing left of me. I look up at Alexa.
‘More scotch, dear?’ She asks, pouring me a full glass, which I begin gulping before she even pulls the bottle away.
Please relax; it can be reversed. Drink some booze, relax—one crazy night. And then reverse it.
‘Good idea, my dear,’ Raif says, and it’s unclear whether he’s speaking to me or his wife. ‘Alcohol will shrink it even further!’
‘Wha-what?’ I stammer. ‘Why? Why are you doing this to me?’
Alexa shrugs.
‘I’d heard about a stuck-up prick who didn’t mind showing himself off. I wanted to see for myself. So I did. And Raif enjoys tearing down young studs a peg or two… Or six and a half.’
‘Pegging?’ Raif asks, perking up. ‘A most excellent idea, my dear.’
Alexa turns back to me.
‘Are you finished with your duck?’ She says as if it doesn’t matter.
I glance down at my erect little penis; I can’t even see the pitched tent anymore.
‘I’m afraid I lost my appetite.’
‘A shame, Alexandro spent all evening on the next course. But if you’re finished, why don’t you come with me?’
She takes me by the hand and pulls me onto my feet. I’m wobbling a bit, but am pulled along.
‘I’m not going to grow breasts, am I?’ I ask. ‘Or is that in the contract too?’
Alexa sighs as if I’m stupid.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. We don’t have the technology for that at the moment. But maybe in a few months.’ She turns back to me and winks. ‘You’ll just have to be patient until then.’
I’m so dizzy from it all that I don’t even reply.
‘Now, we’ll begin with a simple pegging.’ She tells me as she sheds her translucent dress. And opens a safe, coming out with a double-sided strap-on dildo.
Before I know it, I’m on my hands and knees.
‘Whoops, we mustn’t forget this,’ Alexa tells me as she slides the plug out of my ass.
I wince in surprise and look up to see Raif staring down at us, an all too content look on his face.
‘How does it feel to be so small, Collie? Or is it Coline now? Collie, perhaps?’
I look down at my dick. It’s the size of an acorn. A rock-hard acorn, but still an acorn.
Before I can answer him, Alexa pushes into me with the strap-on. I grunt hard, nearly falling flat on my stomach, but my arms and legs are trembling. Alexa pulls out and thrusts in again.
And I moan.
I didn’t mean to. Like I really didn’t fucking mean to. Like I cover my hand with my mouth because I did not fucking want to.
‘Oh… she likes it,’ Raif says approvingly. ‘Talk dirty to her, baby. She’s been a bad girl. A positively naughty one.’
Alexa thrusts into me again, and I fight back hard against the moaning, but I lose completely.
‘Trying to hide it now, aren’t you? You were born to be a little slut, weren’t you, Collie?’
I’m dizzy from delight, but I sure as hell don’t want to admit it to this prick. Alexa pushes into me again.
‘Yes!’ I wail as she enters me again, pulling back just enough and pushing into me again.
‘You’ve been a naughty little bitch, haven’t you, Collie?’ Alexa asks, her voice close, her breath hot in my ear.
I nod my head vigorously, but that’s not enough. She spanks me so hard that I yelp before answering.
‘Yes! Yes! Yes, I have.’
More thrusting. More moaning.
‘So very bad!’ I whine like the naughty little bitch I am.
Raif is clicking his tongue in disapproval as he circles us; Alexa has stopped. I’m trying to get my bearings. I shake my head to clear my thoughts. What the fuck is going on?
‘You thought you could come here and fuck my wife, didn’t you? And now you’re the one getting fucked. How does it feel?’
I bite my lip as she pounds my ass. I can feel my orgasm building.
‘You thought you were hot shit, didn’t you? Getting hard at that art show. Thought you were hot shit your whole life just cause of the size of your cock.’
‘Yes. Yes. Yes,’ I pant in agreement.
‘But not anymore! You’re a dirty little slut now, aren’t you, Collie?’
‘Mhhmhmm,’ I agree through a whine, my voice as high as a kite.
‘And you’re about to finish, aren’t you?’ He asks menacingly in that goddamn deep voice of his.
Alexa pulls out, and I try to recover my senses.
‘And now look at you. Tiny little prick, and taking it up the ass, too. Dressed like a little slut and getting fucked like one, too!’
I nod.
‘You’re ready to cum, aren’t you, Collie?’
I nod again. I glance down at my little acorn; it’s dripping precum. Oh god, am I ready to cum.
Raif smiles and unzips his pants.
‘You’ve never sucked cock, have you, Collie?’
I shake my head.
‘But you want to now, don’t you?’
I don’t need to be told; I nod and crawl towards him. His dick is hard and ready for me, and there’s no foreplay, not pageantry; he just leans forward, and I open my mouth to receive him. And he begins fucking my mouth hard, down into my throat. I’m not even sucking him. And then he pulls back.
‘Are you going to be a good little slut, Collie? Are you going to suck me or am I going to have to fuck your mouth?’
‘I’ll suck you, I’ll suck you!’ I say, begging for the chance to.
He nods as if pleased by my submission and leans forward. I take his cock into my hands, give it a squeeze with both hands, feeling the blood pumping through it. It’s like I’m in a trance.
I can’t even believe it. I angle it towards my mouth and then wrap my lips around his cock and begin bobbing my head, keeping my lips as tight as possible. Trying to remember how all the girls who’d blown me had done it.
Before too long, he’s moaning, and I begin moaning when he does. Except mine are coming out in high-pitched little squeaks. Like I’m so happy to serve him that I can’t even hide it.
‘You’re a natural born cock-sucker, aren’t you, Collie?’
I squeal my agreement.
He taps my head as if I should stop and exits me. I take a deep breath of fresh air that I didn’t know I needed, like I shouldn’t know. Like he’s there to tell me when to breathe. I look up at him.
‘Say it,’ he says in that deep radio-perfect voice. ‘Say you want it. Say you want my wife to fuck you in the ass because your dick is so tiny she wouldn’t feel a thing.’
I take a deep breath; I’m staring up at him. He’s ready and so am I.
‘I want it.’ I demand. ‘I want it so fucking bad. Fuck me. Please fuck me. Fuck my ass. Fu-‘
Alexa moves in for the kill and is inside me again. She begins pounding my ass hard. I’m moaning, and then he pushes his cock back into my mouth. I’m at the breaking point.
‘Who’s in charge?’ He asks.
‘Yourgh aghargh.’ I tell him, my mouth full of his cock.
My words, already barely coherent. It’s as if language has left my mind. It’s like they’re literally fucking my brains out. And as if he knew when I was going to finish, he cums when I do. I feel it sliding down my throat. And then I explode my load.
And as I collapse, Alexa pulls herself out of me.
‘I think you forgot this, Collin.’ She tells me, handing me my wig. ‘So much for disguises, right?’
It’s then I remember the cameras. They’re everywhere. I snatch the wig and put it back on my head. I pull my panties back up as if that will restore my dignity. When all it really does is remind me I’m a sissy slut now.
‘Oh come now, Collie.’ Raif roars with laughter. ‘Don’t be so bashful! This is just the beginning!’
*****
The next morning I wake up on the living room floor of my apartment. I would have thought it all some crazy dream except all I’m still wearing are the same black panties from the night before. But the biggest reminder of all is also the smallest: for my dick is still the size of an acorn. And to make matters worse, I didn’t receive payment.
On the living room table is a small black leather purse where I find my keys, phone, and wallet. I call Alexa on the number she gave me, but the number’s disconnected.
Just when I’m working up the nerve to go back to that crazy tower and raise some hell, there’s a knock at my door.
It’s Nikolai, the proctologist-turned-doorman-turned… delivery man?
I don’t even bother getting dressed. I just open the door, wearing only my panties.
He doesn’t say anything; he just has this smug smile on his face. I’m about ready to kick his ass, but of course he’s probably a black belt as well as a doctor. He just hands me a thick envelope and is off on his way.
It’s addressed to Collie…
I tear it open and begin reading the letter:
Our dearest Collie,
Raif was most pleased with your “consulting services.” And I must admit, I enjoyed myself as well. I still don’t consider myself a lesbian, but I also don’t consider you a man either. As for the money, I’m sure you’ll agree: it’s more fun to keep the game going, don’t you think?
Remember: Whores get paid, sluts don’t. And prostitution is highly illegal.
If you’d like to continue the game, you’re more than welcome to. We will be hosting a little get-together next weekend, and if you decide to join, please dress the part. And be prepared to take it up the ass.
Come back to the address I gave you next Friday at 18:00. We’ll be expecting you. Consider yourself our “little” guest of honor. Please be prepared to work and to be worked. Until then, I suggest you continue as usual; it’s all part of the process. Don’t stop playing the game for a moment, or we’ll disappear, and you’ll be left with your “tiny tot.”
Thank you again for your performance. Raif and I especially enjoyed your opening appearance and can only hope for more. Enjoy reviewing it yourself. I’ve watched it a few times, and I must say, it’s been edited to perfection. Nikolai is also very skilled at that. Oh, and please keep the footage in a secure location. We wouldn’t want any embarrassing leaks, would we?
Benevolently yours,
Alexa & Raif
P.S. I read there’s a new testosterone supplement on the market soon. Unfortunately, it’s quite expensive. Keep up the game and be a good little slut, and maybe you’ll get your stocking stuffed $$$$$ But if you do not play, I am afraid to say that you’ll have a useless nub for the rest of your days XOXOXO.
I tilt the invitation’s envelope, and sure enough, a microSD card spills into my hand. No doubt the footage she was referring to. Of course, it’s a microSD card…
Before I can satisfy my curiosity and review it, there’s a knock at the door, and I barely remember to pull on some sweatpants and a shirt before I see who it is.
Jessica. What is she doing here?
‘Collin, what are you still doing at home?’ She asks frantically. ‘Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet about this.’
I look at her dumbly.
‘What do you mean?’
She grabs me by the hand and begins pulling.
‘The whole class is waiting on you! You did sign up to model for me! I mean, my class!’
My stomach sinks. I can hardly say a word. If I back out now, I’ll look like the biggest loser ever. And if I go through with it… I’ll humiliate myself beyond measure.
Jessica leads me along. She’s so earnest, so sincere. So… innocent. Like she hasn’t been able to work up the nerve to ask me out this whole year, and now this opportunity to see me naked just fell into her lap…
Professor Li, a fit woman in her mid-thirties but looks younger due to the genetic benefits of being Asian, is unimpressed and tapping her feet as we arrive.
‘Sorry, Professor Li,’ Jessica says on my behalf as she pushes me into the Professor’s office. ‘My friend accidentally slept in.’
‘Well, exceptions can be made,’ she says severely. ‘It’s better than going through the paperwork of having him expelled,’ she turns away, muttering. ‘Being made to wait like this…’
‘Oh, he definitely will!’ Jessica declares with all the innocent sincerity of a girl with a crush. ‘Collin’s a terrific model, you’ll see!’
I’m biting my lip hard.
‘He better be,’ the professor says threateningly. ‘Head on in.’
She points into the classroom where I can already see the other students are waiting.
‘B-b-b-ut what about a robe? Don’t I get a robe or somewhere to change?’ I stammer.
‘You should have thought about that before you hit the snooze, Mr. Forsyth. Now go on in there and undress to your underpants. I doubt we’ll even have time for full nudity.’
I feel a rush of relief. Maybe I can get by with just my torso?
If. Never has so much hung on such a small word. If. If I hadn’t shown up late… there might not be enough time for me to be completely nude. I might get out of this with my reputation intact.
I march into the classroom like I’m heading for the gallows. I look around the room. All my targets, all my prospective conquests, everyone I’ve even remotely been interested in or had a crush on is in there. And soon they’ll know everything.
I shrug out of my shirt, and I hear a few murmurs of approval. I do the best poses I can think of, but notice no one has even started drawing… They’re just waiting for me to take my pants off.
‘Mr. Forsyth,’ Professor Li says severely. ‘Your pants, too, if you please.’
I swallow hard. No option. No hope.
I look back at the door, and there she is in the window.
Alexa, with Raif beside her. Beaming proudly, waiting expectantly for the show of humiliation that will follow.
I sigh as I slide my sweatpants down, and I already begin to hear murmurs. But this time, they’re not impressed. I look up to make eye contact with one blonde, Dana, whom I’d been so close to sealing the deal for a date.
But it’s a deal that will never be sealed. Her hand is on her mouth. Her friend leans in next to her and whispers something barely audible, but I can make it out painfully clear:
“Where’s his penis?”
Dana stifles a giggle and gives me a fraction sign with her finger and her thumb.
‘All right, class,’ Professor Li says. ‘I suppose I’m the only adult here besides Mr. Forsyth, whom I applaud for his vulnerability. And while I was expecting underpants and not underpanties, I suppose there’s only one solution: Mr. Forsyth. Could you remove your panties, please? It seems this completely reasonable undergarment is causing a disturbance in my class.’
I freeze.
‘Are you sure?’
The professor nods.
‘Quite.’
‘But I thought you said you wouldn’t have time for full nudity?’
The professor shrugs.
‘I think we’ll find the time. Down with your panties, please.’
I can’t help but sputter a weak defense.
‘B-bu-bhut-bbbb-‘
Professor Li tilts her head severely.
‘If you do not remove your panties, I’ll see to it that you are expelled from the university. Now strip them off, or I’ll do it for you.’
My heart is pounding hard enough. I look down in defeat, and with trembling fingers, I slowly begin to peel my panties down, trying to think of some way to hide my micropenis from them. Could I just cover myself with my hand? Could it be part of the pose? Is there any way to keep my relationship as a viable man intact? But before I can strategize or answer any of these questions:
I feel firm fingers on the waistband of my panties, and they are slung down to my ankles.
I turn in surprise to see the Professor was quite serious about removing my panties for me. And just as I feel the draft across my useless nub, I shiver and already begin to hear the laughter.
‘Oh.’ I hear the professor exclaim as she is still kneeling, her hands still gripping my panties. She’s staring right at me, and her eyes squint as if even at that proximity she cannot make out what should be there. As if she is surprised.
She slowly begins to pull them back up as if I should be covered up.
‘Class, I think we should be a bit more understanding,’ she says as she pulls them up.
‘Yeah, cover it up,’ I hear one girl groan in disgust.
‘But professor,’ one would-be artist declares. ‘I really want to draw the subject. And we were kept waiting.’
The professor is so close to preserving my modesty before she relents in the pursuit of art.
‘Very well,’ She says, leaving them around my thighs.
Humiliated, I lift my head to see Jessica. She’s not laughing. It’s something worse: Pity. I’m pitiful to her. She shakes her head out of sympathy.
‘Now, now, class.’ Professor Li says, rising to her feet. ‘As an Asian woman, I’ve certainly seen my share of small members, and while I must admit that’s certainly the smallest I’ve ever seen, it took a lot of courage for Mr. Forsyth to come here and show off his body for us. Especially his micropenis. That cannot have been easy.’
She rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
And that’s all it takes. I didn’t even realize due to the size. Like everyone else, I didn’t even know I’d been hard all this time. And then it happens.
First I leak, and then I, Collin “Collie” Forsyth, completely unstimulated and unencouraged, with a shudder and shiver at the professor’s warm hand upon my shoulder, begin to drip ejaculate onto the floor. There are no more laughs; it’s just shock. Followed by a groan or two of disgust. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.
Professor Li sighs as she draws a napkin from her sports coat and kneels to wipe up the mess.
‘I had a feeling this might happen,’ she says, almost sympathetically. ‘You see, ladies, this is what happens when a man is so utterly deprived of affection because of the size of his penis. He becomes stimulated without stimulation.’
She wipes up my semen, collecting it all in one smooth motion, catching the long final string that leads up to my penis and pulling away in one graceful motion. She takes another napkin from her pocket and begins dabbing at me in a most patronizing manner.
‘Take note of how much there is. And I’m sure the poor dear pleasured himself before he came in. Doubtless that’s why he was late. But being in front of you women, in this state, well, it was probably the most heterosexual experience of his life.’
I bite my lip, wanting to speak out, but remember Alexa and Raif in the window and the game that must be played. Or I’ll be left like this forever. This is just part of the game.
‘He may never experience this amount of sexuality with a woman again.’ Professor Li says, shaking her head.
‘I think you’re right, professor!’ Dana declares, a remark that lightens the mood from pity back to humor, and the class shares a laugh.
‘You may laugh, but it is true,’ the professor says before glancing at the clock. ‘Now, some of you are in my next class on male psychology, and thanks to Mr. Fortsyth’s thoughtless, though now for reasons incredibly understandable, tardiness, I will begin my next lecture. Anyone who is not in my next seminar is, of course, free to go.’
No one moves.
‘Professor, I didn’t sign up for this.’ I say weakly, choosing my words as carefully as possible to stay within the rules of “the game,” whatever they are.
‘Oh, Collin, I’m sorry, but perhaps you failed to notice the clause in my contract. “Subject agrees to psychological analysis following the modeling session,”‘ she says, quoting it from memory. ‘If you leave now, it will be grounds for expulsion. Trust me, I don’t mind the paperwork.’
Defeated, I lower my head in shame.
‘Can I at least pull my panties back up?’ I ask as I begin to pull them back up, hoping to hide behind the safety of them.
‘No,’ the professor says, slapping my hand away, and so the panties remain around my thighs, a humiliating reminder that I am not even allowed to cover myself.
Professor Li begins circling me, still holding the evidence of my orgasm on the napkin in her hand for all to see. And anyone not looking at it is staring at the little button between my legs.
‘As you all know, I wrote my dissertation on sexual frustration due to size,’ Professor Li begins, flawlessly shifting gears from art to psychology. ‘And I’d like to demonstrate and… hopefully prove one of my long-held core beliefs. Dana, could you film this with your phone? I’d like plenty of evidence.
Before I know it, there are dozens of phones out, snapping away or filming.
‘To recap, the subject, one Colin Forsyth, while performing as a nude model, ejaculated at only the slightest touch. Not from sexual stimulation, which might be understandable, but from my hand simply resting gently upon his shoulder. Needless to say, this came as a surprise to us all as we did not even notice an erection. Class, be sure to zoom in on Mr. Forsyth’s micropenis.’
I can practically hear the zooms.
‘Now, in line with the theory put forward in my dissertation “tiny penis, big libido.” I would like to draw attention to the rather large amount of semen extracted from Mr. Forsyth’s micropenis. Dana, get this, and do come in and get a close-up of the micropenis. It’s really quite extraordinary to see one so small.’
I don’t move a muscle as Dana does just that, trying not to laugh. To think I almost had a chance with her. When I was a man. Now I’m just an object of ridicule.
‘Now, everyone, watch.’
Professor Li holds the napkin up to my lips.
‘I theorize that the subject is probably so malleable from sexual frustration that he’ll do anything. Case in point: Mr. Forsyth,’ she says, turning to me. ‘Lick this napkin clean.’
I look up from the puddle of semen resting on top of the napkin and then at the window. Raif is nodding his head. I look back at Professor Li. There’s not a doubt in my mind that she would expel me if I do not comply. I then make the mistake of looking out at the women who are now fascinated with me. I’m no longer a man, but at this point, am I even human?
‘Mr. Forsyth,’ Professor Li says, spanking me on my bare bottom for encouragement.
I lean forward almost involuntarily and taste myself. And despite the groans of disgust, I’ve licked the napkin clean before I even realize.
‘See!’ The professor exclaims proudly, ‘My point is proven. This poor male, if he can even be called that, is so starved for heterosexual experiences that he will do virtually anything a female will demand of him. Not only will he comply, but he will also enjoy. Even including… Miss Fletcher, could you please open my top drawer and bring me a pair of rubber gloves and Vaseline?
Jessica obediently does as she is asked.
‘Be a dear and bring it here.’ Professor Li tells her.
Jessica runs to the professor and hands her the dildo.
‘Dana, could you stay in front of Mr. Forsyth? I’d like to get this edited into the documentary I’m going to make.’
‘The rest of you, feel free to gather around and watch as I insert my finger into Mr. Forsyth.’
The professor pauses while the class rearranges itself behind me.
‘I believe that even though he has already sexually climaxed without stimulation only moments ago, he will do so yet again. For while he possesses what can be called a penis, he actually has more in common with females, specifically the ability to climax consecutively. It’s a sort of consolation prize for being born with so minuscule a member.’
The professor pauses again to direct Dana on how to film what is about to follow.
‘Dana, make sure you have a clear focus on his face. I want to capture his pleasure at being penetrated anally as well as the resulting orgasm that I believe will follow and follow shortly. Jessica, would you mind capturing footage of his erection?’
‘It might be difficult.’ Jessica says flatly.
‘Why is that?’ The professor asks as if her entire theory is suddenly on the line.
‘Because… well…’ I watch as Jessica’s face breaks into a smile. ‘It’s so tiny!’ She says.
And for the first time, the professor breaks, joining in with the girls’ laughter.
‘Now, I’m going to lubricate my finger properly, because, well, why be cruel to Mr. Forsyth? Nature has already been cruel enough!’
I’m spanked hard on my bare behind and told to bend over.
And I do, leaning over the stool I was sitting on, with a full view of Jessica’s smartphone and smirk. I look up at the window to see if I have my Scandinavian master’s approval.
The professor inserts her finger into me, and I moan.
‘Fascinating.’ Professor Li says clinically as she pushes deeper. ‘Is he hard yet, Jessica?’
‘I…. I can’t tell.’ Jessica says, squinting at my privates.
‘Mr. Forsyth, are you?’
I’m biting my lip and nodding as I’m probed deeper by the professor.
‘Professor, may I try?’ Dana asks as she snaps on a pair of gloves. ‘Colin and I went on a few dates, and while I’d never let him penetrate me… honestly, I’m not even sure if I can. I did kind of have feelings for him… like I thought he might be the one…. Would it be okay if I’m the one who pleasures him?’
‘Even better!’
‘Oh, Colin.’ Dana whispers into my ear as she probes me with her finger
I shudder hard, and as hard as I fight, I cannot resist pushing back into it.
‘Take note,’ The professor declares, ‘the subject is pushing back into Dana’s finger, as if he is enjoying it. Truly fascinating, tease him a bit, won’t you, Dana?’
Dana denies me that which I want most as she pulls back, her finger sliding out so fast it makes a bubblegum-smacking sound. I nearly lose my footing.
‘Interesting, the subject is so off-balance from any amount of sexual contact with a female that he is literally off-kilter. You may resume probing, Dana.’
I bite my quivering lip as she pushes her finger into me again. I moan, which is made note of.
‘The subject moans quite like a female,’ the professor says as if she is building her hypothesis.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Dana whispers as she pushes and probes me, ‘but it’s better this way. If I’d have been naked, I might have felt bad enough to let you actually fuck me. That wouldn’t be fair… to me. I need a real cock.’
I am. So. Fucking. Close.
‘Oh, Collie…’
That does it, with a whimper, I spray my load right onto the film camera.
Time has stopped, but only for a moment. I’m brought back down from on high by a firm slap on my ass by Professor Li that coincides with me sliding right off of Dana’s finger and down onto my knees…
The cameras are still rolling.
‘You know what to do, Mr. Forsyth,’ the professor says, acting more like a film director than a documentarian.
I do. I crawl forward and lap up my semen that has landed on the camera lens.
‘Amazing,’ the professor says clinically as she summarizes what has transpired. ‘Take note, class, I believe we have something more than just a man with a micropenis; we may, in fact, be bearing witness to a sissy being born.’
‘Professor, what’s a sissy?’ Jessica asks innocently.
‘A fantastic question, Miss Fletcher. A sissy is someone, a man, who is such a pathetic specimen of a male that he, or rather, she, takes on the affectations of a female to cope with being dealt such a bad lot in life. Take note, while the subject has just experienced orgasm, he, or possibly rather, she at this point, will still do as directed due to the establishment of sexual dominance.’
‘But professor,’ Jessica asks curiously, ‘if the subject is this starved for sexual attention from women, even women who penetrate him from behind, what would happen if a man, like a real man, fucked him in the ass?’
I’m still on my hands and knees, with my ass up in the air as if an invitation for Dana, the professor, or anyone else to probe me. I look back, though I didn’t need to. I could tell the professor was thinking up another experiment.
Another most excellent question, Miss Fletcher,’ the professor says, clearly impressed. ‘But one best answered another time in another experiment. I believe the subject, Collie, as I think we shall now call her, has had enough excitement for today. We will need to work him up to actual cocks. We wouldn’t want to stress such a sad little sissy. Besides, I think we ladies all know what it’s like to be fucked hard and when we need a good rest afterward. I’m sure Miss Collie is no different, even if it rather looks like she wants more; let’s not stress her for now…’
The End.
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