Small and Hairy (Gay SPH)
I walk into the men’s gym locker room, more nervous than usual. I just finished my morning workout and needed to take a quick shower before heading into the office. I usually worked out after work, but since I needed to stay after work a little later to attend an important meeting, I decided to try going to the gym in the morning. The workout itself was great, but I never had to take a shower in a public space before. And I have never been comfortable with my body.
My friends, family, and past partners always insisted I was attractive, being a six-foot male with decent muscle mass. Still, my dark body hair and tendency to carry a bit of extra weight around the middle always made me nervous about taking off my shirt in public situations. And even though I am almost 25 years old… I never experienced penetrative sex with anyone; this is mostly because of one other body insecurity… my smaller-than-average penis.
As I walk up to my locker, I glance around. I sigh with relief – no one else seems to be here. I input my combination, and the locker swings open to reveal my gym bag. I ruffle through it a bit to find my shampoo, body wash, flip flops, and towel.
‘Do I bring the towel to the showers? Do I wear it to and from,’ I questioned?
I had never done this before. So I take out my phone and do a quick search—wear the towel. Got it. I glance around again. Still no one. I quickly take off my shirt. My shoes. Socks. Shorts. I glance again. Someone is walking in.
“Dammit,” I curse under my breath.
A man that seems to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties, treks in. His grey sleeveless shirt is wet, so he must have just finished working out himself. His full beard had a bit of grey, but otherwise, it was as dark as his short hair. He glances at me sitting on the bench but proceeds to his own locker, unluckily on the same wall, but luckily at around six feet away. I huff, shivering with anticipation and nervousness. I do not want to take off my boxer briefs with him there.
‘Should I put on the towel and then take them off…’ I wonder. ‘But he will probably think I am weird. He will know that I am hiding something…’ I go down the rabbit hole of overthinking things. ‘Fuck it.’ I stand up, put the towel around my waist, and proceed to pull off my underwear from underneath. I quickly grab my soap and slip on my flip-flops. I turn to head towards the showers and see the man staring at me. I break into a cold sweat as I scurry to the showers. ‘Fuck, he is judging me,’ I think to myself as I pass into the shower room area.
As I enter the showers, I notice that there is not much privacy. There are stalls, but they only come up a bit above waist height. Definitely not what I was hoping for. ‘Should I just abandon this and drive all the way home to take my shower.’ I ask myself, but I know I can’t. That would put me at work at least an hour later than usual. So I reluctantly picked the stall in the corner to be next to only one other stall.
I place my soap and shampoo on the stall wall. I walk into the stall and turn on the water, waiting for it to get warm. I glance around the shower area – no one here. ‘I guess that guy is not taking a shower,’ I sigh with some relief. But with my heart still beating faster than when I was doing my cardio earlier, I quickly remove my towel, hang it on the hook on the outside of the stall wall, and jump into the stall itself. The warm water hits me, and it feels nice, but my anxiety over someone seeing me reminds me not to take my time. I immediately turn to reach for my body wash.
And then I see him. The man from the locker room. Walking into the showers. Completely naked. A glance allowed me to see he was decently toned and hairy as well. And his dick definitely looked bigger, but I did not focus on that. ‘Dammit,’ I thought.
I pull the body wash bottle close and make sure my back is facing the stall exit. ‘Calm down. Calm down,’ I tell myself. I open the cap of the body wash and start to squeeze it into my hand.
A deep “How was your workout?” comes from my left-hand side.
I turn my head. The man walks up to the shower stall right next to mine and places his stuff on the stall wall to his left.
“U-uh, it was good,” I stammer, trying to keep my body and eyes facing the wall.
I can feel him looking at me. I know he is.
“What did you focus on? I think I saw you on the elliptical, so cardio?” he asked, turning on the water and walking into the stall.
I can see that he is looking at me from the corner of my eye.
“Y-yeah, mostly cardio today. I-I did lifting a few days ago…” I say. ‘Why are you talking to me? Why are you using the stall RIGHT next to mine?’ my internal dialog shouts.
“Ah, nice. Nice,” he responds.
I find myself now mostly facing the stall corner away from the man. I do not want him to see me. I want to get out of here. I am almost done shampooing at this point.
“So, got a girlfriend? Wife?” he asks.
‘WHAT THE FUCK?’ I think to myself. “N-no,” I respond.
I am trying to finish soaping up as quickly as possible.
“Hmm… hard to hear you over the water. Can you turn a bit towards me?”
I turn a bit, so my body faces the wall and my face a bit more towards him. “No,” I repeat.
“Ah, I see… I see…” he trails off.
And then he does it. I see him out of the corner of my eye. The thing I really did not want him to do. He looks down. Over the stall wall. At me. And I see a smile on his face.
“Is your water cold?” he asks.
I am stunned. ‘Did he? Maybe his water is not coming out hot. Do not overthink it.’ “No. M-mine is fine,” I respond.
“Really? Then why is your…?”
I stop rinsing the soap from my scalp. I just stare at the drain in front of me for what seems like an eternity. Then, I slowly turn my head a bit. He is looking over the stall at my small, flaccid penis. My heart drops. And then starts to race. I get excited… a bit… too excited. I feel it twinge a bit.
“How old are you? From the body hair, I would have thought you to be at least in your late twenties? The early thirties? But…”
I still just stand there, motionless. I do not know what to do. My anxiety is through the roof. He is talking about my penis. And my body. All of my insecurities… and yet…
My dick is now about half hard at about two inches.
“Wait, are you getting hard?” he asks. “Do you like it when I talk about your small dick, boy?”
My eyes widen. I am frozen with shock. My dick is almost fully hard at this point—almost 3.5 inches.
“My God, you are.” He laughs. “Turn to face me. I want to make sure I see this clearly.”
I do not do anything. I just stand there.
“I said face me, boy,” he demands, in a much firmer tone.
And I turn. Slowly. Now facing this man clearly making fun of my small penis.
“What the fuck. You are fully hard. I think I see… pre-cum? Damn. That is really pitiful.” He leans over the stall wall, his face only a foot or two away from my crotch. “How old are you?”
“T-twenty-five,” I respond.
“Well, I’ll be—a 25-year-old with a dicker smaller than a child’s. Mine soft is harder than yours hard. Do you want to see?”
I just look up at him. His muscular chest, wet and covered in dark body hair, slowly rising and falling. His dark beard almost hides his wide smile. His left thick eyebrow raised a bit in amusement.
“Well?” he asks again, more forcefully.
I can only manage a nod. ‘What am I doing,’ I chastise myself?
The man steps out from his stall and stands at the opening of mine. His pubes, completely untrimmed, could not hide his large member. I was not sure if it was fully soft, but regardless, it was easily hanging at least four inches. He just stood there, legs wide, water from the shower dripping from the large uncut head.
“See,” he said, motioning to his manhood. “Now that,” he motions to my crotch, “is not really a penis, now is it?”
I slowly shake my head no.
“I did not hear you, boy? Now, do you have a penis?”
He steps closer, his face only about a foot and a half away from mine.
“N-no, sir…” I stammer.
“Glad you acknowledge it, boy.”
He looks down at my crotch again, smiles, and then proceeds to grab it with two fingers by placing his thumb on top and his index finger underneath. I whimper and start to step back.
“No. Stay right there,” he commands.
I listen. We just stand there. Neither of us is moving. My penis between two of his burly, manly fingers. He starts to squeeze. Harder. And harder.
“Ow…” I whine.
“Quiet, boy,” he interrupts, pinching even harder. He then starts to slowly move his fingers back and forth… back and forth. “See, it only takes two fingers, like a clit,” he comments. Looking me straight in the eye.
And that sets me off. I feel my dick tense up. I let out a groan. And I cum. Right into the man’s other hand.
“A decently sized load, though,” he says, still squeezing my penis with one hand while holding up a hand full of cum with the other. “Now eat it.”
I shake my head.
“That was not a request, boy.”
“I do not….” I start before the man pulls hard on my small dick, bringing me to my knees.
The hand he was using to hold my penis disappears, and he shoves his cum-covered hand in my face. I shut my eyes hard,
His hand pushes against my mouth, covering my face with my own cum. I slowly start opening my mouth and stick out my tongue. He rubs his hand even harder, making sure my tongue glides over every inch. He then shoves his index and middle fingers into my mouth.
“Yes, eat your own cum. Sissy bitch”.
I slowly start to open my eyes… to find the man using his free hand to hold his smartphone.
“W-what are you?” I start to exclaim.
“Shut up!” he responds, pushing me down.
I fall on my ass, my still hard, 3.5-inch dick now in full view. I quickly get back up and cover myself.
“Ha-ha, it’s too late. I already have the photos and videos. And yes, they are automatically backed up. So don’t even think about trying to reach for my phone,” he says, with a smug look on his face. “Now, you are going to do exactly what I tell you?”
“W-why would I do that?! What are you doing? Why take the video?” I ask, grabbing my towel and putting it in front of my still hard penis.
“Well, Alex Jackson, if you do not listen, I will send these videos and photos to your work. Family. Friends… you name it. Then, post it on some public forums. For EVERYONE to see.”
“Wait? How do you know my…?”
“I know your name and where you work, Alex. And with that, it will be pretty easy to find your phone number, address… whatever I want.”
Now doing a power stance, the man has both hands on his hips, his penis swinging freely.
‘What do I do,’ I think to myself? ‘How did this happen?’ My mind is racing. I just stand there in shock.
The man walks up to me. “My name is Derrick. I will be texting you later today with instructions. You will follow these to the letter… or you know what will happen. See you later, baby dick Alex.”
Derrick smacks my small dick through the towel hard enough to make me fall to the ground in pain. He walks out of the shower with his things. I just sit there on the ground, water still running, not fully believing what just happened. What IS happening?
After a few minutes of sitting in a puddle of water in a daze, I finally got up, quickly rinsed off, ran back to the locker room, and got dressed.
I leave the gym in a hurry, continuing to glance around to see if I could see Derrick. As I jump into my car, I got a text: ‘When you get to work, strip in the office bathroom and send me a photo. Do NOT get dressed or leave until I respond, instructing you to do so. Otherwise… I will send your sister the video I took. And if you think I am bluffing, her phone number is ###-###-####.’
I just stare at the text for a few minutes, nothing even thinking. ‘How can I get out of this mess? Where can I go? Should I call the police?‘
These thoughts just swirl in my head as I start my drive to work.
Chapter Two: Risky Workday
I made it to work a few minutes early, sitting down at my desk, feeling anxious as hell. I log into my work computer and start working on my project, only to be interrupted by another text. Derrick.
‘Where is that picture, you tiny dick slut? You have 5 minutes.’
My mind starts racing. Fuck. He means it!
I quickly get up and go into the restroom. Luckily no one was inside. I jump into one of the stalls in the corner and take off my shirt and pull down my underwear and pants to my ankles. I snap a quick picture of my neck down.
Less than 30 seconds later, I receive another text.
‘What the fuck is that? Are you stupid? COMPLETELY naked. Nothing on. And include your dumb slut face in the picture.’
I take off the rest of my clothes and put them on top of the closed toilet lid. Then, I lift my phone… and take a full nude selfie. Send.
30 seconds later.
‘That’s more like it. But… still not enough. Open the stall door. Step outside and take another pic.’
I hesitantly open the stall door and step out. Snap. Another picture. Send.
‘Good.. good. Now take a selfie using the big mirror at the sinks.’
How does he know my office bathrooms have huge mirrors? Lucky guess? I proceed to take a nude mirror selfie.
‘Okay, only two more tasks, bitch, then you can get back to work. One: take a picture of you licking a urinal.’
I text back, ‘What? Why?‘
‘Shut the fuck up and just do it. Or all these pictures are going to your mother too. ###-###-####.’
Of course, he has my mother’s phone number. Shit. I quickly walk over to the urinal and put my tongue on the outer rim. Another picture was sent.
‘Eh, not good enough. Move your tongue more into the bowl.’
I wince and comply. Tastes bitter.
‘That’s better. But still not good enough. No reason to look so unhappy. Make sure to smile!‘
“What the fuck,” I whisper under my breath.
I take one more pic. Smiling.
‘There we go! Good slut. Such a good listener! Now… the last command… Step outside. One more pic.’
My heart drops. ‘But that’s too risky! I can get fired,’ I text back.
‘Do it, or I send these photos and videos. 5 minutes.’
I stand in the stall for a few minutes, thinking about what I should do. Then, I look down and finally notice my small dick was fully hard this whole time, leaking. ‘Am I enjoying this,’ I think to myself? I definitely was riled up.
I step out of the stall and head to the door to the bathroom. I quietly push it open and peek outside; no one around. I slowly step out. I feel completely exposed. I AM completely exposed. I raise my phone into the air and take a full-body nude selfie. Send.
“Hey!” I hear.
‘FUCK!‘ I think. I quickly duck back into the restroom without looking around. I run into the stall and start grabbing at my clothes. The bathroom door opens.
“Who was that? I know you are in here? What were you doing?”
‘I am so FUCKED!‘ I internally scream. I do not answer. I do not move. I am just standing in the stall naked, holding my clothes against my chest.
“Well, at this point, you have two options. Either I come over to that stall, see who you are, and tell security, or you come out willingly as you are, “ he pauses. “You have one minute to decide.”
“O-okay. I am coming out,” I stammer, slowly opening the stall door while holding my clothes against my groin with the other.
I step out and see Nathan, my previous manager standing there with his hands on his hips. When I first joined the company, I had a temporary manager while the team I joined was transitioning to another company section.
“Well fuck, Alex. I did not think you were into this type of shit,” he says, and I fully emerge from the stall.
“I-I’m not! I was blackmailed into…” I started to explain.
“Save it. I do not want to hear your excuses. Just drop the clothes.”
“W-what? I stammer.
“Drop them on the ground. Right now,” he demanded.
“B-but why?” I ask.
“If you do not do it right now, I am getting security.”
He smiles. I drop my clothes. Revealing everything. My small erection is still standing at full attention.
“Haha, you definitely are enjoying this,” says Nathan, slowly pulling out his phone from his pocket.
“W-what are you doing?” I ask.
“This,” he says, snapping a photo. “Now turn so your side is facing me. And kick the clothes back into the stall.”
I just stare at him for a second, horrified.
“Now,” he demanded. “I won’t ask again.”
I follow his instructions. I kick my clothes into the stall and then turn to my side.
“Wow! What the fuck! That thing is SMALL! I thought it looked a bit tiny when I saw you outside the restroom, but seeing it from this angle…” he pauses and takes a few photos. “I can tell that thing it what… four? Maybe five inches?”
“Three and a half….” I murmur.
“What, say that again?”
“I have a three and a half-inch dick,” I exclaim.
I turn to see Nathan now taking a video. “Wow. That really is pathetic. Well, I gotta get back to work. I recommend you get dressed.” He starts to walk out. “Oh, wait, throw me your underwear.”
I stand there for a second.
“Give me your underwear, or I am showing this to the authorities.”
I quickly run into the stall and throw him my boxer briefs.
“No underwear for you today. Derrick’s orders.”
I am stunned. They are working together? Do they know each other?
“But why? Why is he doing this? Why are YOU doing this?” I plead.
“I am not sure why Derrick is, but I find it funny. And now I have some nice pics and vids to get off to later.”
And with that, Nathan just walks out of the bathroom. I return to the stall and slowly get dressed. I see I received a text from Derrick.
‘Did you have fun? Did your tiny dick stay hard, even though you got caught? Or possibly BECAUSE you got caught? Haha, fucking slut. After work, meet me at the following address:
### ##### ##
#######, ## #####
You know what will happen if you do not.’
To Be Continued…
*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Just remember, even with the limited editing we do, it doesn’t mean any possible major flaws in this story were fixed.