Small Dick Words
By SmutWriterAI.
“Man, I’ve got nothing to complain about there,” I said, puffing out my chest like it meant something. “The ladies just love my big package.”
It was a total lie.
My dick was a pathetic one-inch nub when soft, maybe three inches hard on a good day. But I wanted to sound like one of the guys, you know? That’s when Mark, the 35-year-old asshole from accounting, cut me off with his signature smirk. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest.
“It’s not the size of the boat, kid,” he drawled, his voice dripping with that smug confidence he always carried. “It’s the motion of the ocean.”
The others chuckled, but I shot back without thinking, “Yeah, well, small dick words from a guy who talks a big game.”
The room erupted in laughs, though I could tell no one really believed I’d seen him naked. Mark’s eyes narrowed, but he just shrugged it off.
“We’ll see,” he muttered, low enough that only I heard.
*****
Months dragged by, and I tried to forget it. Then one afternoon, I was in the kitchenette at work chatting up Sarah from marketing, the girl I’d been crushing on forever. I was rambling about my squash skills to impress her, how I’d been practicing and felt unstoppable.
“I’m getting really good,” I bragged, hoping it’d spark some interest.
That’s when Mark sauntered in, overhearing everything. “Squash, huh?” he said, clapping me on the shoulder a bit too hard. “I used to dominate the regionals back in the day. Loved crushing opponents.”
My stomach twisted. I was decent at squash, but nothing like a champ. Sarah’s eyes lit up, though, and before I could backpedal, Mark grinned. “What do you say, kid? Fancy a game? Prove your talk.”
In front of her, with everyone watching? No way out. “Sure,” I forced out, my voice steadier than I felt. “But I’m no champion, Mark. So go easy on me,” I joked.
“Never,” he said, laughing. “How about after work? I’ll meet you at the squash center at 5 pm.”
“OK, let’s do it,” I said, thinking that a game of squash is harmless. I mean, who cares if he beats me? It’s just a game, and if he’s as good as he says, I might even learn a thing or two. However, even though I tried to rationalize the whole thing, fear and anxiety ate away at my gut because I knew nothing was ever simple with Mark.
*****
After work, I went home, changed, grabbed my gear, and headed to the local squash center, the air thick with my growing dread.
The court was unforgiving. Mark moved like a machine, his shots precise and brutal, slamming the ball past me every time. Sweat poured down my face as he toyed with me, letting me score a point here and there just to drag it out. By the end, he’d wiped the floor with me, 21-5, 21-3.
“Not bad for a beginner,” he said as we headed to the locker room, but his tone mocked me.
My legs burned, my ego shattered, and now the real nightmare loomed: the communal showers. The locker room echoed with the faint drip of water from the showers, empty except for us. Mark stripped off his shirt without a care, revealing a toned body from years of gym sessions. He kept yapping, towel slung over his shoulder.
“You gotta work on your footwork, kid. Loosen up those hips, might help in more ways than one,” he said chattily.
I fumbled with my phone, pretending to check emails, praying he’d head in first. But he lingered, stripping down to nothing, his cock hanging there, average to big, at least five inches soft, thick, and unashamed between his muscular thighs.
My heart pounded.
No escape.
I stood, hands shaking as I peeled off my soaked shirt and shorts. When I dropped my underwear, the cool air hit my tiny dick, shriveled to its pathetic one-inch state, barely visible against my balls. Mark’s chatter died mid-sentence. His eyes locked on it, then flicked up to my face.
A snicker escaped him, low and cutting. “Small dick words, eh?” he said, his voice laced with amusement.
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I turned beet red, frozen under his stare. We stepped into the showers, the hot water cascading over us, steam filling the tiled space. I kept my back to him, soaping up quickly, but I felt his gaze boring into me. My little nub twitched uselessly in the warmth, still tiny, exposed. He lathered his body casually, his cock swaying as he moved, looking even bigger now.
“Gotta say, kid,” he continued, not letting up. “That’s some teeny-weenie babydick you’ve got there. No wonder you talk a big game at work. The truth must really embarrass you.”
I mumbled something incoherent, the water drowning out my shame, but inside, it burned. Every glance he stole made my stomach churn, voyeuristic, dominant, like he owned the moment. His laughter echoed off the walls, deep and mocking, as he rinsed off.
“Bet the girls laugh when they see that little thing. Or maybe they don’t even notice.”
I wanted to sink into the drain, my insecurity crashing over me like the spray, mixing with the sting of defeat on the court.
We dried off in silence, but as I pulled on my boxers, trying to hide my inadequacy, Mark couldn’t resist one more jab. He dressed slowly, his presence towering. “Boy, it’s not even a cock. Just a little clitty hiding away,” he said and chuckled, zipping up his pants with ease.
I avoided his eyes, dressing as fast as I could, the humiliation twisting deeper, leaving me small in every way.
Back in the locker area, he clapped me on the back again, harder this time. “Hey, just to say… if you need it, maybe one day I could help you satisfy that girl of yours. Show you how a real man does it.”
His grin was predatory, eyes gleaming with that arrogant spark. I stood there, mortified, words failing me as he grabbed his bag and walked out, leaving the door swinging behind him. My mind raced. What the hell had I started?
*****
That offer hung in the air like a bad joke, but as Mark sauntered out of the locker room, something twisted inside me, part rage, part desperation. Sarah’s face flashed in my mind, her polite smiles during our chats, the way she’d looked at Mark with that spark of admiration. What if he was right? What if my tiny dick was why I couldn’t seal the deal with her? I zipped up my bag, heart hammering, and before I could talk myself out of it, I followed him into the hallway.
“Wait,” I called, my voice cracking a little.
He turned, eyebrow arched, that smug grin already creeping back. “Second thoughts already, kid?” he said, leaning against the wall like he owned the place.
I swallowed hard, cheeks still burning from the shower humiliation. “About… what you said. Helping me with Sarah. Maybe… Yeah, I could use some advice,” I mumbled.
The words tasted like ash, but saying them out loud made my stomach knot with a weird mix of shame and curiosity. His eyes lit up, predatory and pleased, and he nodded toward a side door marked ‘Private, Staff Only.’
“Good lad. Follow me. But this stays between us,” Mark said with a gesture to follow him.
We slipped into a dimly lit storage room off the locker area, stacked with old mats and forgotten equipment. The door clicked shut behind us, sealing out the world, but the air felt thick, exposed in its own way, like the walls had eyes. Mark flipped on a single bulb, casting long shadows, and turned to me with that commanding stare.
“Strip,” he ordered, casual as if we were back on the court. “Can’t teach if you’re hiding that little secret.”
My hands trembled as I obeyed, peeling off my shirt and pants again, the cool air raising goosebumps on my skin. When I dropped my boxers, there it was, my pathetic one-inch nub, soft and shriveled, barely peeking out. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling smaller than ever under his gaze.
He chuckled, low and rumbling, stripping himself down without hesitation. His cock swung free, that five-inch soft beast hanging heavy between his legs, already looking powerful even at rest.
“See this?” he said, gripping the base and giving it a slow shake. “This is what a woman notices. Not your baby clitty.”
Humiliation burned through me, hot and unrelenting, but I couldn’t look away. Something was mesmerizing about his confidence, the way he handled himself, like he knew exactly the power he held.
“Sit,” he commanded, pointing to a bench. I perched on the edge, naked and vulnerable, as he stood over me, his cock inches from my face. “Lesson one: size matters for the visual. Girls like Sarah? They want to see something worth getting on their knees for.”
He stroked himself lazily, and I watched, transfixed, as it thickened and lengthened right before my eyes, veins pulsing, the head swelling to a deep pink. It grew to what had to be seven inches hard, girthy, and demanding attention. My own dick twitched uselessly, staying tiny, a sad little button that wouldn’t rise to the occasion.
“Look at yours,” Mark sneered, nodding down. “Pathetic. No way that’s filling her up. Bet it slips right out.”
He laughed, the sound echoing in the cramped space, and I felt my face flush deeper, a wave of shame crashing over me. But beneath it, a strange fascination stirred, his dominance pulling me in, making me want to learn, to fix my flaws.
“Now, technique,” he continued, his voice dropping to a husky instruct. “You gotta know how to work what you’ve got, but with that shrimp, it’s all about the tease.”
He demonstrated with his hand, wrapping his fingers around his shaft and pumping slowly, the skin sliding over the hardness with a soft, slick sound. Pre-cum beaded at the tip, glistening under the light, and he smeared it down the length.
“Start slow, build her up. Use your mouth if you have to, lick the clit like this.” He mimed it crudely, his tongue flicking out, but his eyes stayed on me, mocking. “You? You’d probably need a magnifying glass to find hers properly.”
The jab hit hard, stirring that emotional churn inside me, anger at his arrogance, but also this reluctant awe at how he owned every inch of himself.
I shifted on the bench, my tiny dick finally stirring to its full three inches, hard but insignificant next to his display. The voyeuristic thrill of watching him stroke himself so openly, in this hidden corner of the club, made my pulse race. It was public in the worst way. Anyone could walk in, catch me exposed like this, learning from the man who’d just crushed me.
“Touch it,” Mark said suddenly, his tone brooking no argument. “Feel the difference.”
Hesitant, torn between fleeing and diving deeper into this twisted lesson, I reached out. My fingers brushed his cock, hot, velvety steel under the skin, and he groaned softly, thrusting into my grip.
“That’s power, kid. Yours? Forget penetration. Stick to fingers or toys, or eating her out. Yes, babydick boys like you eat a lot of pussy while real men like me fuck it. That’s the difference between us, kid.”
The contact sent a jolt through me, humiliation mixing with an unwelcome spark of arousal. I pulled back, my hand sticky, staring at my own inadequate hardness. Mark kept going, his strokes faster now, breath quickening.
“Imagine Sarah seeing this instead of your nub. She’d beg for it.”
His words wove into my insecurities, dominating my thoughts, leaving me fascinated by the raw confidence he exuded. Why couldn’t I be like that? The emotional pull was intense, wanting his approval, even as he tore me down.
He slowed, releasing himself with a satisfied smirk, his cock still throbbing, semi-hard and imposing. “That’s enough for today. Remember your place, small dick, observer, not player. Practice what I showed, but don’t kid yourself.”
He dressed quickly, leaving me there, naked and conflicted on the bench, my mind swirling with shame, curiosity, and a nagging hunger for more. As he opened the door, glancing back with that arrogant wink, I wondered what I’d do next: tell Sarah, or chase this humiliating path further?
That wink lingered in my mind like a brand as I scrambled to dress, my tiny dick still half-hard from the unwanted thrill of touching him. The storage room felt suffocating, my thoughts a whirlwind of shame and that twisted curiosity. I avoided Sarah’s eyes when I left the club, mumbling some excuse about needing to head home. But Mark’s words, ‘observer, not player,’ echoed, gnawing at my insecurities.
*****
By the next evening, my phone buzzed with a text from him: ‘Hotel on 5th. Room 312. Bring Sarah if you want real lessons. Or don’t, your call, small dick.’
My stomach dropped. How did he even have her number? Probably from office chatter. Part of me screamed to delete it, but the pull was stronger, that desperate need to prove something, anything. I called Sarah, voice shaky, inviting her for ‘drinks with a friend’ at the hotel bar, lying through my teeth about Mark being ‘cool once you know him.’ She agreed, her laugh light and oblivious, twisting the knife deeper.
We met in the lobby, Sarah looking stunning in a simple black dress that hugged her curves, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Mark was already there, all easy charm, buying rounds and steering the conversation with his effortless dominance. I nursed my beer, feeling like a third wheel in my own twisted plan, my mind racing with what I’d unleashed.
After an hour, he leaned in, whispering something to Sarah that made her giggle, then shot me a knowing glance. “Why don’t we take this upstairs? Got a suite, better views,” Mark said.
She hesitated, glancing at me, but I nodded dumbly, heart pounding.
What was I doing?
The elevator ride was torture, Mark’s hand brushing Sarah’s waist casually, while I trailed behind like a shadow. Room 312 was lavish, with a king bed, dim lights, and a bottle of champagne chilling. The door clicked shut, and the air thickened with tension. Mark turned to me first, his eyes hardening. “Strip, kid. Completely naked. Time to show Sarah what she’s missing.”
Sarah’s eyes widened, but she didn’t bolt, curiosity flickering as she sipped her drink, watching. My face burned as I obeyed, fumbling with buttons, shirt hitting the floor, pants pooling at my ankles. Boxers last, revealing my shriveled one-inch nub, soft and insignificant under the room’s soft glow. Sarah’s gaze dropped, a mix of surprise and pity crossing her face, and I wanted to vanish.
Mark chuckled, stripping down himself with no shame, his cock swinging free, five inches soft, heavy, and commanding. “See this, Sarah? Real man’s equipment.” He gripped it, shaking it tauntingly toward me. “Not like his baby dicklette.”
She bit her lip, glancing away, but stayed, the emotional weight of her presence amplifying my humiliation. I stood there, exposed, arms at my sides as he ordered, feeling the cool hotel air on my skin, my tiny dick twitching uselessly.
“On your knees,” Mark commanded, his voice low and authoritative, stepping closer until his thickening shaft hovered inches from my face.
The scent of him, musky, masculine, filled my senses, stirring that reluctant fascination again.
“Lesson two: submission. You gotta learn to serve what you can’t match,” Mark declared.
I hesitated, knees buckling under his stare, dropping to the plush carpet. Sarah watched from the bed, her breath quickening, a flush on her cheeks. Mark’s hand tangled in my hair, guiding my mouth to his cockhead, now swelling to full hardness, seven inches of veined girth.
“Open up, small dick. Suck it like you’d want her to suck yours…”
The first taste was salty, overwhelming, his pre-cum smearing my lips as he pushed in, filling my mouth with hot, pulsing flesh. I gagged slightly, inexperienced, but he didn’t care, thrusting shallowly, mocking me the whole time.
“Look at that pathetic erection,” he sneered, glancing down at my three-inch hardness bobbing uselessly between my legs. “Yours is a joke, tiny, worthless. Bet it couldn’t even tickle her.”
His words hit like punches, emotional barbs twisting in my gut, but my body betrayed me, arousal building from the dominance, the humiliation of performing for Sarah’s eyes. She shifted on the bed, thighs pressing together, watching intently as Mark dominated my mouth, his hips rocking, cock sliding deeper, stretching my jaw.
He ridiculed me relentlessly, pulling out to slap his wet shaft against my cheek. “Feel that weight? That’s what she needs. Not your little worm.”
I whimpered around him when he shoved back in, his free hand roaming my body, pinching my nipples, slapping my ass, owning every inch while I knelt submissive, tears pricking my eyes from the mix of shame and strange thrill.
“You’re nothing but a watcher, kid. A cuck with a clit.”
Sarah’s soft gasp pulled my gaze; she was touching herself lightly through her dress, drawn into the raw display, her eyes locked on Mark’s commanding form.
Finally, he yanked free, his cock glistening from my saliva, throbbing angrily. “Enough. Now watch a real man work.”
He turned to Sarah, who stood, dress slipping off her shoulders at his urging, revealing her full breasts and trimmed pussy. I stayed on my knees, forgotten, as he pushed her onto the bed, spreading her legs wide.
“This is how you fuck her right,” Mark growled, positioning his thick cock at her vaginal entrance.
She moaned as he thrust in roughly, one deep stroke burying him to the hilt, her walls clenching around his girth. He pounded her expertly, hard, rhythmic strokes that made the bed creak, his balls slapping against her ass, her cries filling the room.
“Feel that stretch? Your boyfriend’s shrimp dick couldn’t do this.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sarah moaned as his cock slid deep into her cunt.
Mark chuckled. “Oh, but he wants to be. Isn’t that right, shrimp dick?” Mark paused his fucking and glared back at me expectantly.
I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir,” I said like a little bitch.
He nodded with a smirk and resumed his fucking. I watched, transfixed and broken, my tiny dick leaking pre-cum onto the carpet, untouched and inadequate. Sarah arched under him, nails digging into his back, lost in the pleasure he’d denied her with me. Emotional turmoil churned, jealousy, arousal, the deep cementing of my place as the loser, the submissive observer.
Mark glanced over again, smirking as he railed her harder, her pussy slick and gripping his shaft visibly. “You’re just a pathetic cuck, small dick,” he growled. “Stay on your knees where you belong.”
His words sealed it, humiliation rooting deep in my soul, leaving me aching for more even as I shattered inside.
He kept going, varying his pace, slow grinds to tease her clit with his base, then brutal thrusts that had her screaming his name. Sarah came first, shuddering around him, and he followed soon after, pulling out to spray thick ropes of cum across her stomach, marking her while I knelt witness.
Breathless, he stood, cock softening but still imposing, and kicked lightly at my thigh. “Clean her up if you want, loser. But remember, this is your role.”
Sarah lay spent, eyes meeting mine with a mix of satisfaction and sympathy, the room heavy with the scent of sex. I crawled forward, torn, wondering how much further I’d fall into this. I hesitated on all fours, the carpet rough against my knees, staring at the glistening mess on Sarah’s stomach, Mark’s thick cum pooling in her navel, streaking her skin.
The salty tang of sex hung heavy in the air, mixing with my own shame. Sarah’s chest rose and fell, her eyes flicking to me with that confusing blend of pity and post-orgasm glow. Mark loomed over us both, his cock still semi-hard, dangling like a threat between his thighs. He nudged me again with his foot, harder this time, the sole pressing into my side.
“Don’t just stare, small dick,” he said, voice dripping with mockery. “Clean it up. Use your mouth, show her how low you’ll go.”
My gut twisted, humiliation flooding hot through me. I glanced up at Sarah, her expression unreadable, but she didn’t stop me. Crawling closer, I lowered my head, tongue darting out to lap at the warm, sticky ropes on her belly. The taste was bitter, foreign, his essence marking her in a way I never could.
She shivered under my touch, a soft sigh escaping, but her hand reached down to stroke Mark’s thigh instead, pulling him nearer. I felt like a ghost in the room, invisible yet exposed, my tiny dick throbbing painfully at three inches, untouched and leaking.
Mark laughed, low and cruel, watching me work. “Look at you, slurping up a real man’s load. Pathetic. Bet your little nub’s never made a woman cum like that.”
He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back once I finished, forcing me to meet his eyes. Cum smeared my lips, and Sarah’s gaze burned into me, amplifying the emotional gut-punch.
“Now, stand up. Time for your part in this show.”
I rose shakily, legs trembling, my body on full display, skin prickling under their stares. Mark pushed me back a step, positioning me at the foot of the bed like a spectator in my own nightmare. Sarah propped herself on her elbows, wiping a stray bead of sweat from her brow, her pussy still flushed and slick from his pounding. Mark climbed back onto the bed, his cock already stirring back to life, thickening as he pulled her legs over his shoulders.
“Watch closely, kid,” he ordered, lining up his now rock-hard shaft, eight and a half inches of veined power, at her entrance. “This is what she craves. Not your worthless shrimp dick.”
He thrust in deep, eliciting a sharp moan from Sarah, her head falling back as he filled her. The wet sounds of their joining echoed, her juices coating him as he started slow, deliberate strokes, his hips rolling to grind against her clit. I stood frozen, heart hammering, the sight twisting jealousy and arousal into a knot in my chest. Mark’s eyes locked on mine, smirking through each pump.
“Touch yourself. Slowly. Show us that babydick in action, or lack of it.”
My hand moved before my brain caught up, fingers wrapping around my pathetic three-inch erection. It felt tiny in my palm, barely filling it, as I began to stroke, agonizingly slow, just the tip of my thumb circling the head, smearing my pre-cum. Shame burned my face, but the command in his voice held me captive, that dominant pull making my body obey even as my mind reeled.
“That’s it,” Mark taunted, picking up speed, his thrusts turning harder, the bedframe thumping rhythmically.
Sarah’s moans grew louder, raw and unrestrained, her eyes half-lidded but fixed on him, not me.
“See how she looks at a real cock? Yours is a joke, tiny, useless. Couldn’t even stretch her pinky finger.”
He slammed in deeper, balls slapping her ass, her breasts bouncing with each impact. The emotional sting hit harder than the words; Sarah’s pleasure was so genuine, so absent with me, it carved into my insecurities like a blade.
I struggled to keep the pace slow, my grip tightening involuntarily as arousal built, shame flooding me in waves. Every stroke of my hand felt futile next to his brutal rhythm, my tiny dick twitching helplessly while his dominated her pussy, stretching it wide. Pre-cum dripped from me, pooling on the floor, but I couldn’t stop. The humiliation fueled a twisted fire, making me ache for release even as tears pricked my eyes.
Sarah cried out, her voice breaking, “Oh god, Mark, yes, harder!”
Her gaze never strayed to me, lost in his dominance, her nails raking his arms. I jerked slower, deliberately, under their unwitting audience, well, Mark’s deliberate one, my breath coming ragged, control slipping as the scene unfolded.
Mark grinned over his shoulder at me, sweat glistening on his chest, pounding her relentlessly now, the pace frantic. “You’re nothing, small dick. Just a cuck jerking his clit while I own her. This is your place, watching, humiliated, knowing you’ll never measure up.”
His words blended the taunts seamlessly, size and submission crashing over me, public in this intimate hell. Sarah arched, another orgasm building, her moans drowning my soft whimpers, and I teetered on the edge, torn between holding back and the overwhelming urge to shatter right there, exposed and broken.
Mark’s rhythm didn’t falter, his hips slamming into Sarah with a wet, relentless smack that filled the room, her pussy clenching around him visibly as she chased that peak. But then his eyes sharpened on me, that predatory gleam cutting through the haze of my own torment.
“Get over here, small dick,” he growled, his voice rough from exertion, one hand shooting out to grab my arm.
He yanked me forward like I weighed nothing, my knees buckling as he pulled me onto the bed’s edge, positioning me between Sarah’s spread thighs.
I stumbled, my hand still loosely gripping my tiny erection, the three-inch hardness slipping in my sweaty palm. The heat from their bodies hit me first, Sarah’s skin flushed and slick, Mark’s musky sweat mingling with the sharp scent of her arousal. My heart pounded, a storm of shame and unwanted excitement churning in my gut. Part of me wanted to bolt, to escape this degradation that exposed every insecurity I’d buried. Still, another part, the twisted, submissive core he’d awakened, kept me rooted, craving the command in his tone.
“Face down,” Mark ordered, shoving my shoulders down until my cheek pressed against the mattress, inches from Sarah’s core.
She was soaked, her pussy lips swollen and glistening, stretched taut around his thick cock as he thrust in deep. Juices leaked out with each withdrawal, dripping onto the sheets, and the sight made my stomach twist, jealousy stabbing sharp because I’d never made her this wet, this desperate.
“Lick her. Taste what a real man does to her while I fuck her senseless.”
Sarah gasped, her hand flying to my hair, not pushing me away but guiding me closer, her fingers trembling. “Do it,” she whispered, voice breathy and broken, eyes locked on Mark’s face above her.
I hesitated, breath hot against her inner thigh, the conflicted pull tearing at me. This was humiliating, reducing me to a tool in their pleasure, my tiny dick ignored and pathetic beside his dominance. Yet the arousal throbbed harder, a sick thrill at being used, at tasting the evidence of his superiority mingled with her need.
My tongue flicked out tentatively, lapping at her slick folds where they met his shaft. The taste exploded, salty-sweet, her essence mixed with the faint tang of his pre-cum leaking inside her. Mark groaned in approval, his pace quickening, pounding her hard and fast now, his balls slapping against her ass with every brutal drive. Each thrust pushed more of her wetness toward my mouth, and I licked deeper, thorough, swirling around her clit as it peeked out, swollen and begging.
“Fuck, yeah, clean her up while I wreck this pussy,” Mark laughed, the sound cruel and booming, vibrating through Sarah’s body into mine.
He reached down, batting my hand away from my cock before grabbing it roughly, his fingers engulfing my entire pathetic length.
“Look at this joke. Three inches? That’s not a dick… It’s a fucking clit. A woman like Sarah here needs a cock like mine to stretch her out.”
His squeeze was mocking, not pleasuring, sending a jolt of humiliated heat straight to my core. I whimpered against Sarah’s pussy, the vibration making her buck, but shame burned my cheeks, exposed, ridiculed, my body betraying me with a fresh spurt of pre-cum onto his hand.
I dove in fully then, worshipping her with my mouth, tongue plunging into her folds as best I could around his invading cock. The angle was awkward, his thrusts forcing her hips to grind against my face, smearing her juices across my lips and chin. She moaned loudly, a raw sound that twisted the knife, pleasure from me secondary, amplified by him.
“Oh god, yes, lick me there,” she panted, her free hand clutching the sheets, body arching into both of us.
But her eyes stayed on Mark, adoration clear, making my chest ache with that emotional rawness, the realization that I was just an accessory to his conquest.
Mark’s laughter rolled again, darker this time, as he hammered deeper, the bed shaking under us. “Pathetic little worm, slurping up the mess I make. Your tiny nub couldn’t even tickle her. I bet she wouldn’t even feel your babydick inside her.”
He emphasized with a particularly hard thrust, Sarah’s cry echoing, her thighs clamping around my head. The dominance washed over me, his control absolute, blending the humiliation into something intoxicating. Shame flooded me, hot and unrelenting. I was nothing, a loser jerking off to his own inadequacy, but the arousal twisted it, making my hips twitch uselessly, desperate for friction he denied.
I licked harder, thorough and obedient, sucking her clit between thrusts, feeling her pulse under my tongue as she neared the edge again. Mark’s hand released my cock only to slap my ass sharply, the sting jolting through me, asserting his power.
“Worship us, small dick. Show her how you’ll serve from now on, tongue for her, eyes for my cock, owning what should have been yours.”
The words seared, but I obeyed, lost in the mix of degradation and desire, my mind fracturing under the weight. Sarah’s breaths came in gasps, her body tensing, and Mark’s pace turned frantic, his grunts mixing with her pleas, pulling me deeper into their rhythm.
The room spun with scents and sounds, sweat, sex, her moans drowning my muffled groans, and I teetered there, face buried in her soaked heat, his dominance chaining me in place. Part of me hated it, the emotional gut-punch of being so utterly diminished, but the twisted arousal held me fast, begging for more even as tears blurred my vision.
Sarah’s moans escalated into sharp, desperate cries, her body coiling tighter under Mark’s relentless assault. I could feel it building, the way her thighs quivered against my cheeks, her clit pulsing wildly against my tongue as I lapped at her soaked folds. Mark’s thrusts grew erratic, his cock slamming deeper, stretching her in ways that made her walls flutter visibly around him.
“Fuck, she’s gonna explode,” he grunted, his voice thick with triumph, one hand fisting my hair to hold me in place.
The pull stung, grounding me in the humiliation, but I didn’t stop, my tongue delving deeper, tasting the slick mix of their arousal coating everything.
Then it hit.
Mark buried himself to the hilt with a guttural roar, his body tensing as he came deep inside her. I felt the first hot spurts indirectly, the way her pussy clenched rhythmically around his shaft, milking him as ropes of cum flooded her.
Sarah shattered, her orgasm ripping through her like a storm, her back arched off the bed, thighs clamping hard around my head, trapping me against her spasming core. She screamed, a raw, uninhibited sound that echoed off the walls, her juices gushing out in a fresh wave that soaked my face.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…”
Her entire body shook violently, tremors vibrating through her into my mouth, and I kept licking, thorough and obedient, even as the intensity overwhelmed me. The taste shifted, thicker now, salty and warm with his release leaking from her, mingling with her sweetness on my tongue.
Jealousy twisted in my chest, sharp and emotional, watching her come undone like that, her eyes rolling back in the pure ecstasy I could never give her with my dick. But beneath the shame, that conflicted arousal surged, my tiny dick throbbing uselessly, leaking pre-cum onto the sheets. I was part of this, yet so far from it, reduced to cleanup, to witnessing his dominance etch itself into her pleasure.
Mark held there for a moment, grinding slow circles to push his cum deeper, before finally pulling out with a wet pop. His cock emerged glistening, thick, and spent but still imposing, strings of their mixed fluids dripping from the tip.
Sarah collapsed back, panting, her pussy gaping slightly, cum oozing out in a creamy trail down her ass.
“Good girl,” Mark murmured to her, stroking her thigh possessively, before his gaze snapped to me. “Now clean me up, small dick. Suck every drop off like the pathetic cuck you are.”
I hesitated, my face flushed and slick, heart hammering with fresh humiliation. His eyes bored into mine, commanding, and that submissive pull won out. I shifted on my knees, leaning forward to take his softening cock into my mouth. The head was warm, salty with his cum and her essence, and I sucked gently, tongue swirling to lap it clean.
He groaned low, hand guiding my head as I worked down the shaft, tasting the creampie residue, her tangy arousal blended with his thick seed. It was degrading, intimate in a twisted way, my own erection twitching at the act, shame burning hot because this was me admitting defeat, servicing the man who’d exposed my inadequacies.
“That’s it, lick my balls too,” he ordered, voice laced with mockery.
I obeyed, dropping lower to tongue his heavy sack, sucking the wrinkled skin clean of sweat and stray drips. The musky scent filled my senses, overpowering, and I felt small, exposed, my three-inch hardness bobbing ignored between my legs, a joke compared to what I’d just worshipped.
Sarah watched, her breathing steadying, a soft smile playing on her lips, twisting the knife deeper. She wasn’t repulsed, just satisfied, her hand idly stroking my hair like I was a pet.
Mark chuckled, pulling back once I finished, his cock now shiny with my saliva. “Not bad for a tiny-dick loser. Now finish her, eat that creampie I left. Show her how you’ll take care of the mess from now on.”
He stepped away, heading toward the en-suite bathroom without another glance, the shower hissing to life moments later.
I turned back to Sarah, her legs still parted, cum leaking steadily from her swollen pussy. She met my eyes, a mix of affection and something new, pity? Desire?
“Come here,” she whispered, voice husky, guiding me down.
I buried my face between her thighs again, tongue plunging into her heat, lapping up the warm flood of his release. It poured out, thick and viscous, coating my tongue as I sucked it from her cuntal folds, swallowing the evidence of his claim.
She moaned softly, hips rocking gently against my mouth, her fingers threading through my hair. The taste was overwhelming, bitter-salt from him, fishy from her, and emotions crashed over me: humiliation at devouring what he’d planted, arousal at her responsiveness, a deep ache of submission that made my dick ache untouched.
Why did this turn me on?
The conflict tore at me, tears pricking my eyes even as I licked deeper, thorough, cleaning her as ordered.
The shower ran steadily, steam wafting out, and Sarah’s breath quickened under my attention, her body still sensitive from her peak. “You’re doing well,” she murmured, but her words felt hollow, laced with the afterglow of him.
I worked harder, tongue circling her entrance, drawing out every drop, my mind reeling from the emotional rawness, exposed, diminished, yet strangely connected in this degradation.
Mark emerged minutes later, towel slung low on his hips, water dripping from his broad chest. He smirked down at me, still on my knees between her legs, face buried in her pussy.
“Look at you, slurping up my load like a good little bitch. Pathetic,” he said.
He grabbed his clothes, dressing quickly, the casual dismissal stinging worse than any taunt. As he zipped up, he paused at the door, glancing back with that arrogant grin.
“Thanks, Sarah. Later, loser. Remember your place, tiny dicks watch and clean.”
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving silence in his wake.
Sarah pulled me up gently, her touch soft against my cheek, but the room felt heavier now, charged with what we’d done. My body buzzed with unresolved tension, dick still hard and ignored, mind swirling with shame, fascination, and a hunger for whatever came next.
What had I become?
And why did I want more?
The End.
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