“It looks unusually small tonight darling – did you have a sneaky wank when you were in the shower?” I asked my husband, as I climbed into bed, fresh from my own shower, and nuzzled up to him, putting my head on his chest and reaching down to gently feel his turtled manhood between my thumb and forefinger.

“No!” he replied indignantly. “It’s cold in here, and I’ve been waiting for you for ages. What were you doing in there for so long?”

“Just shaving my pussy darling – it takes a while to do it properly you know. I don’t want to miss any bits”, I said as I shut him down. He didn’t have a reply to that as he loves my pussy being clean shaven, and instead, he reached under the covers and pulled up my nightie, feeling between my legs, just to make sure I wasn’t kidding.

“Get out of there!” I playfully rebuffed him, pushing away his advance. “Only boys with big cocks get to feel my pussy – yours doesn’t qualify!” He feigned indifference and withdrew his hand.

“Play with that little dick of yours for me for a moment,” I tell him. “Make it good and hard for me, there’s a good boy. You know it’s not big enough to be called a cock don’t you? It’s hardly big enough to be a penis really. It is a dick though – a very small one. Perhaps dick-let describes it better.”

He should have been shocked at my tone and choice of words, and until not long ago, he would have been. Recently, however, during a lovemaking session, we had been discussing what turns us on and trying to discover each other’s secret fantasies. We were both at the height of our arousals, and he confessed – not that willingly and not without some embarrassment – that he had discovered he had a fetish. One that I hadn’t heard about before, but which had evidently been coined on the internet as a small penis humiliation fetish, or SPH, for short.

Apparently, I had unwittingly sown the seeds for this fetish on two occasions several months earlier. Once when I let slip that one of my previous lovers was very well endowed (which my husband correctly interpreted as being much larger than his own manhood), and once when he was prancing around our flat in the nude, and I playfully told him to put some clothes on and cover up his little willy, which was making even my little finger look large. I hadn’t meant to humiliate him on either occasion – they were just a passing comments.

He admitted to having been instantly aroused at both these comments, though he didn’t really understand why at the time. That led him to do some ‘research’ on the internet, and surprise, surprise, this was apparently quite a new, and relatively unknown trend, which was becoming popular with guys of all sizes, and with a woman who was seeking to change the power balance in their sexual relationships.

I must admit I was initially quite taken aback by the admission. It went completely against the grain of the alpha male, which in almost all other aspects, my husband was. At over six feet tall, and of a muscular build with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, and with a career that required him to carrying an air of authority and dominance about him, this wasn’t a fetish I ever imagined he would ever have.

Whilst surprised, but not offended by it at all; my initial thoughts were that it was just a passing phase that would not last. So far though, his desires for me to point out and tease him about his shortcomings in the genitalia department had continued unabated. I was starting to learn more about what it was that turned him on to the subject and had even begun doing my own research into small penis humiliation on the internet. You could say I was fast becoming somewhat of an expert on it…

Essentially SPH is a form of male sexual arousal, created by the excitement and fear of humiliation that arises when a man is being told that he is not enough of a man to satisfy his partner sexually, because of his small penis. Sometimes there are other aspects to it as well, such as a desire to be sexually submissive, to be told what to do – to be dominated – especially by someone who may not normally be the decision maker or boss in the relationship.

The one thing that really surprised me though was that many men who enjoy this form of humiliation do not necessarily have a small penis. The actual size of their cocks is largely irrelevant. The real thrill appears to be generated from either knowing or being told that there are larger cocks out there than their own, for which they must compete against or be compared with, and being humiliated or chastised for being so much smaller than their partner’s preferred ideal size, whatever that might be.

It is true that one of my ex’s had a very large cock, I’d guess maybe 7 or 8 inches. It is also true that my husband’s seemed smaller than all the other cocks I had experienced in my time a– certainly when he is soft, but probably also when he is hard – though I had never felt the need to find out exactly how his penis measured up to the average men. It honestly never bothered me; it did the job, and I was very satisfied with it. It seems that men are more hung up about dick size than women are, whilst I guess women have their own insecurities which men remain completely oblivious to.

I guess my vagina must have naturally contracted a little since being exclusive with my husband, and in doing so, I had mentally consigned the bigger cocks I had previously experienced to distant, lustful memories. When my husband enters me now, it still hurts if he doesn’t take it slowly, so it certainly feels big enough to satisfy me. He is also a skilled lover with his tongue and his fingers, as well as his cock – I’ve never had a more fulfilling sex life. I’ve read that one of the positive spin-offs of men with small or even average sized penises is that they try harder to make up for their shortcomings. That’s just fine by me!

However, I had decided to ‘go with the flow’ and indulge him in this new fetish. As long as we were both enjoying it, and neither one of us was being hurt, I would continue with it for as long as he found it arousing. So far it had given me plenty of enjoyment, although initially, I felt quite bad during the first few occasions for mocking and humiliating him the way he asked to be. I love him very much, and I don’t find the size of his penis limits our sexual satisfaction or experiences at all; I remained very content and sexually fulfilled with our sex life and our relationship in general, as was he by all accounts. The last thing I would ever want to do would be to hurt him or his feelings.

After those first few humiliation sessions though, it was very clear that it gave him a huge thrill to be humiliated and shamed in this manner, and I realised that at the end of the day, it was just a game of sorts for both of us, which we could discontinue if we grew out of it.

Who knows? I thought to myself at the time. I might even begin to crave being the dominant one in our sex lives and gain the same sort of thrill as he was enjoying but from the opposite side of this fetish of his. Little did I realize how much of an understatement this thought would later prove to be.

Anyway, back to the story… nuzzling up to his neck, I whispered in his ear, “you have such a small dick you know, baby. Look at it, with your tiny little balls. It’s small enough when it’s hard. It’s ridiculous when it’s soft. I admire you for having the nerve to walk around our flat naked, when it’s so soft and small and all shriveled up like that. Aren’t you worried about me taking a sneaky photo of it and posting it on some website about guys with small dicks, or ‘accidentally’ showing it to my girlfriends after we’ve all had a few wines?”

He shrugged in mock shame and rolled his head away to avoid eye contact. As he did so though, I felt his cock begin to swell. It’s funny how it never failed to hide what was really going on in his head. Even when he wanted to hide his arousal, eventually his penis would always give the game away.

“Do you really think that your little dick can fill me up the way proper cocks do?” I continued. “It doesn’t. It’s been ages since I last had a normal sized cock in me – you know, a proper one, one that is at least average in size, one that stretches me out and leaves me all loose afterward, confirming that I’ve just been fucked by a real man..”

“Do you realize that every single one of my past lovers have had cocks way bigger than yours?” I continued.

“How does it feel (when you are fucking me) to know that all the other cocks I’ve had have gone in much deeper in than you, that they have stretched me wider, and that they have touched me in places you will never be able to reach with the tip of your tiny wee one? You definitely have the smallest dick I’ve ever been fucked with, I’m afraid. In fact, you have the smallest dick I have ever seen.”

I wrapped my fist around it as if I was holding a joystick, squeezing it a few times and pushing it this way and that, to let him know I held and controlled his very being in the palm of my hand.

“God, it’s so fucking small and pathetic when it’s inside me – it barely touches the sides of my pussy, let alone reaches the end. It’s OK for a warm up, but it leaves me with an insatiable craving for a much bigger cock afterward.”

He closed his eyes in shame but mumbled in agreement. His small but beautiful, perfectly symmetrical and circumcised cock now stood proud and fully erect, hard and hot, pulsating in my hand, and it was clear my words were giving him his ultimate thrill.

“I’m sorry baby – I’m just honest about it like you wanted me to. We both know you have a very small dick, and now that you have told me you actually enjoy being humiliated about it, I’ve decided not to hold back on telling you how small it is any longer, and to be more frank about it. You really do have a fucking small cock.” I paused for a moment, to let my words sink in.

“Do you regret ever telling me about your small penis humiliation fetish? Do you think you might have started something you can’t stop? Opened up a much bigger can of worms than you dared wish for?”

He didn’t answer, but it was obvious he was thinking it through. He slowly shook his head, clearly too embarrassed to verbally admit he didn’t want this to stop.

“Would you enjoy being tied up and being totally under my control? Then I could take some pics of you naked to show my friends later – you wouldn’t be able to stop me. What if I pulled out a ruler and properly measured your little dick to see just how big – or should I say small – you actually are? If you knew I might do that and find out the exact truth would you still let me tie you up, or would you actually find that a turn on? You dirty, kinky, little boy.”

Without waiting for a reply, I climbed out of bed and reached underneath for the bindings that we kept hidden, but permanently attached to the legs of our bed. I secured his ankles to the foot of the bed, with his legs together, resting about a foot apart, but unable to move. He never resisted, but I knew he wouldn’t. Moving up the bed, I secured his arms at right angles to his body. Again he didn’t oppose my actions, apart from a mock show of resistance, once it was obvious that he had left it too late to escape.

We had only experimented with a few bondage sessions, and all of a very tame nature previously, but on those occasions I knew that my husband liked to be tied up firmly, with no chance of being able to struggle free, to add to the reality of the situation. I, therefore, made sure there it would be impossible to wriggle out of the bindings, no matter how much he might try. They were clasped firmly around his ankles and wrists, so much so that they almost restricted the blood flow. No way will get out of these, I thought to myself, as I did a final check, removing some slack line from the left wrist binding.

I picked up my I-phone from the bedside table. “Time for some photos of you for keepsakes little man – make sure you have your best smile on.” I saw him frown, and I knew he wasn’t comfortable with this. When I had taken photos of him naked before he had always gone back and wrestled my phone off me, deleting them, least they should make an unplanned and inopportune appearance again. This time though, the restraints would prevent him doing this, and I could take all the snaps I liked.

I clicked away several photos, close up, showing his small cock in all its glory, and from further away, capturing the expression of his embarrassment and awkwardness, clearly the owner of the hard little penis, standing proudly in the foreground.

“OK, time to save these files somewhere where you won’t find and delete them like you usually do,” I said, as I created a secret folder with an unobvious file name unlikely to be discovered later and deleted by a concerned husband trying to hide the evidence of his shortcomings. “The girls will get a good giggle out of these!” I joked as I put the phone back down.

“How long do you think the average penis is?” I asked him, without waiting for a reply. “Don’t worry, I’ve already googled it to find out – I knew I wouldn’t be able to trust your answer. And just how long is your little dick then? Don’t even think about exaggerating it – I already have a rough idea, I just want to hear you admit it to me.”

He mumbled something inaudible. “Come on – answer me!” I ordered. “How long is that little dick of yours?”

“Five and a half,” he mumbled.

“Five and a half?” I asked. “Well, that surprises me. That would make you just a fraction under average in length, and I think you and I both know that’s not the case – you are way below average, Mr. Small Cock”. Tell me about your girth then – that’s what really counts for a girl. What’s the circumference of your dick? And this time be honest, or a picture of you and your little penis will end up on the internet for everyone to see.”

“Umm, I think it must be about five inches” he stammered. “You think?” I said. “Are you trying to tell me you’ve never measured it?” He shook his head. “Telling lies now too, are we?” I accused him. “Why do you keep a tape measure in your bedside drawer then?” I asked, as I reached over and slid open the drawer, pulling out a sewing kit tape measure. “What’s this been used for if you haven’t measured yourself when you’re alone? And don’t try and tell me you’ve started sewing in your spare time”. We both giggled at this. “Having a pin for a dick is about all you have got in common with sewing,” I said gravely as I returned to the task at hand.

“Right, let’s see what you are made of, little man,” I said, as I reached for his manhood. “Mmm, yes you are almost right about the girth, 5 inches exactly,” I said, as I wrapped the tape measure around his cock about half down his shaft. “But the length, mm. Did you mean centimeters or inches?” I mocked. I held the start of the tape measure up firmly against his pubic bone, and straightened his cock up until it was at right angles to his stomach, then measured along the top of it, right to the tip. “Let’s see now, it’s more than four but definitely less than five inches. I’d say you’re your length is officially coming in at 4.9 inches, even less than your girth. Pathetically below average on the length, and barely acceptable on the girth. Definitely below average on both counts. You officially have a small penis darling – does that make you happy?”

He looked up at me, guiltily, and slowly shook his head in shame.

“My husband has a very small penis,” I said, quietly, incredulously, almost as if learning this news for the first time. I paused, looked up at the ceiling dramatically. Looking back at my husband, I gave him a mischievous grin, before turning my head to face the wall adjoining our neighbors flat. I drew a breath and suddenly cried out loudly in mock frustration, “God, your cock – it’s so… fucking… tiny!”, pausing between each word for impact. I couldn’t help giggling loudly at my outburst.

I had said this in a slow and deliberately loud voice, which would likely be heard by the couple in the adjoining flat if they were in. Due to the layout of our building we hardly ever saw the couple next door except occasionally in the corridor. We didn’t know them by name and would probably even have struggled to recognize them in the street. It gave me a naughty kind of thrill to possibly be outing my husband’s small cock to people whom we knew existed just next door, but to whom in reality we knew that we would probably never have that much to do with, due to the busy lives we all lead these days. That somehow made it both exciting and OK that they may have heard my outburst through the thin walls.

We knew from experience that these plasterboard walls between our flat and our adjoining neighbours wall were certainly not soundproof, as we had from time to time heard them if they were speaking more loudly than usual, and we had even heard them having loud, vigorous sex on several occasions, possibly after a few too many drinks, when they were less inhibited than usual. We therefore normally made an extra effort to keep the noise down when we were in bed together. Tonight though was different…

If they were home tonight, they would almost undoubtedly have heard my slow, deliberate words; ‘God, your cock – it’s so – fucking- tiny,’ as well as my loud giggle, and would know who it was that I was referring to.

My husband squirmed with fear and embarrassment. It was one thing for me to know his secrets, but I knew it would be pushing his boundaries for anyone else to know about them – this one in particular.

“Does it scare you, or does it turn you on to know that I’m now aware of exactly how small your pathetic little penis is? That your ‘little’ secret is now finally out and officially known? Are you perhaps just a little scared now that I know your exact measurements, that I might tell someone how small it really is?” I continued.

“It’s less than five inches long,” I said in a high-pitched, girly voice, pretending to have a conversation with a girlfriend. “Can you believe that? He tries to fuck me with his little dick, but it’s just not long enough. After he’s finished and lying there all sleepy, I have to pull out a dildo and finish the job myself, like a proper man with a normal sized cock would have done”, I giggled.

Do you trust me not to tell any of my girlfriends about how small it is? Girls often talk about these things. Don’t worry about it though. They will know to keep it to themselves if I tell them about yours – it’s what we girls do, we share our deepest, sometimes darkest, secrets with each other all the time.”

I paused to let him think. “What – you don’t like that idea?” I asked. “You want me to burden myself with keeping your little penis a secret? Mmm… I’m not sure I can – it’s something that always comes up in the conversation with us girls at some stage. We don’t like to keep things from each other, especially when it comes to talking about sex!”

I bit my lower lip guiltily and looked away – the last couple of statements were just a little too close to the truth, and I knew I had recently overstepped the mark during a conversation with a close friend. Hopefully, though nothing further would come of that and she may have even forgotten about it. Yeah right…!

He looked genuinely concerned as he took in my body language, and noticed my lack of eye contact. I wondered for a moment if I had pushed him too far out of his comfort zone, but his cock indicated that he was still very aroused, and so I continued.

“I’ve been thinking, and I’ve decided that I need to get some new love toys to help satisfy me, seeing as you are too small. Would you want to watch me use them? Would you want to use them on me? Will you be surprised that the ones I choose will be much larger than you?”

“Would it turn you on to see my pussy getting stretched apart and me being satisfied by a dildo that is much bigger than you, doing what you can never do with your very small dick?”

“It looks like it would turn you on – look how hard your little pee-pee is now. It’s trying to be a cock, but it can’t – it’s just too small”, I giggled school-girlishly.”

I was right – he was as hard as ever, and he knew it, as he looked down to see his cock standing proudly – a true indication of the effect my words were having on him. He nodded slowly.

“If I made you wear a strap-on dildo or a penis extension to make love to me, would you do that? Even if it meant you wouldn’t be allowed to cum until much later – maybe not at all. Think about how much longer you would last if you were fucking me with a toy first – we both know how easily he can get over-excited sometimes.”

“Perhaps we should consider getting a cock cage and locking up little Mr. Pee-Pee so that he doesn’t get too excited before it’s his turn. I’ll keep the key, and he’ll be under my control until I’ve been sexually satisfied. No satisfaction for me and he stays in his cock cage – perhaps for days. Would you like that – to have your sexual release completely at my discretion and under my control?” He slowly, bashfully nodded his agreement to the question.

I reached across to my side of the bed and pulled out my latex rubber 6.5-inch dildo from the bedside drawer, which was incredibly lifelike, veins and all. Even though there are larger ones available, I’ve always found this the perfect size for me during my self-sessions – it’s longer than my husband’s penis, but not so much wider than him that it hurts or stretches me too much. I still need to be able to feel my husband inside me, after all. I held up the dildo alongside my husband’s cock so that we could compare the difference in size. It was clearly much bigger, both in length and girth.

“Look at that honey – that’s what a real man’s cock looks like,” I told him, as we both looked at them, lined up side by side. “That’s the sort of size I’m looking for in a cock. Your dick looks like a wee pinky finger being held up beside a large middle finger.” He squirmed with embarrassment.

I placed the dildo between my legs and gently rubbed the length of it between my pussy lips, several times, teasing my entrance, but deliberately not penetrating it yet. “Yesss” I whispered. “This is going to feel so good soon when it goes all the way in, the way a real cock would feel.” I held it up to the light and the juice that hard started to rise from my pussy, was clearly visible around the first half an inch or so.

I rested the base of the dildo on his forehead, holding it there whilst I straddled him. I shuffled forward until my pussy hovered just a few inches above his face, giving him a good view of my moist but as yet, still tight and unpenetrated cunt. Sitting up a little, I positioned myself at the end of the dildo and eased myself down until the head was just resting in the fold between my pussy lips. I could see him looking up, gazing intently as he took in the sight of it all, and I heard his breathing, deep and excited.

Slowly, deliberately I began to ease down on the lifelike cock. My pussy resisted it at first, and my flesh whitened at the pressure. Then my lips began to ease apart with the extra force, as they gave way and accepted the penetration, and the shaft began disappearing, inch by glorious inch as it sank inside of me. I gasped involuntarily as the entire length of it sank firmly into place, with the lifelike balls now pressing firmly against the back of my thighs. He had a perfect view of the entire penetration, and I could tell he loved seeing me being completely taken by it, as I buried it deep, with my cunt, my pussy lips visible, stretched and tightly enveloping the outer circumference of the lifelike cock.

Hold the base of it with your teeth I commanded. As he did so, I pulled away, and the pink shaft re-emerged, shiny with my juices, until just the head remained hidden in my opening. I eased down on it again, and we repeated this process several times, each time is easier than the last, as my juices really began to flow and my pussy loosened up, now accommodating the full width and length of the cock with ease. Finally, I pulled out all the way, and it slipped out completely with a slurp and landed on his chest.

“How does it feel knowing that you can never fill me up and stretch me out the way this cock just did?” I asked. He didn’t reply, but gazed at me intently, urging me on.

“Here, lick this clean for me, little man,” I said as I held the dildo out in front of him. Following my command, he shyly licked and sucked the length of it, until he had gone over every inch of it with his tongue. “Who’s a good little cock sucker then?” I asked once he had completed the task. He suddenly seemed to realize he had been licking and sucking an imitation cock, and he blushed deeply at my question, without answering.

“I’ll just pop it here for later. If you need a reminder of what a real cock looks like, you won’t have far to look”, I said. As I lay it down on the pillow beside him, it rolled up against his cheek.

“Maybe in future, we should not let you cum in our sessions. Or at least not until I have cum good and hard, properly. Maybe that will mean that you start to work harder to satisfy me. You know, to help compensate for you having such a small dick. Maybe this little game of yours could start to work for me after all…” I said, pretending to think out loud.

“Maybe we introduce a new rule that if you cum before I do, you have to eat me out? Hmmm – yes that’s it – you’ll have to clean up your own cum if you haven’t satisfied me first. If you were only allowed to cum if you clean me up afterward, would you? No clean up equals no cumming for you.”

I had said this last comment before I thought it through properly, but as the words rolled off my tongue, it gave me a new kind of thrill, one that I had not experienced before. This was taking the change in power to a whole new level. It was one thing for me to be telling my husband what a pathetic little cock he had, largely at his own insistence, but for me to possibly make him eat his own cum creampie? Well, this was a whole new ball game – the ultimate humiliation.

I couldn’t believe the thrill I was starting to get from this nasty thought. I had often wanted him to kiss me after I had sucked him off, to know that just maybe he was tasting some of his own cum when we kissed, but he was usually quite coy about any lip contact after receiving a good blowie.

The thought seemed to be turning me on in the same way that it always turned him on when he made me go down on his cock after he had entered me with it, but before he had cum when he knew that he was making me taste my own pussy juice, fresh off his cock.

The power I had over him was really going to my head now, and I think he too sensed a shift, an upping of the tempo. This wasn’t something we had discussed before, and we were both entering new territory.

“Have you ever eaten your own cum before? ” I asked. He shook his head. “Have you tried to? Have you wanted to? You pretend you don’t like the idea but why has your little dick suddenly become so hard?”

He didn’t answer, but he couldn’t hide the hardness of his cock, and so I pushed on, going into an area we had not previously ventured into.

“I think the idea must excite you, even just a teeny weenie bit” I challenged. “Did you chicken out of doing it on your own previously? Would you like me to make you eat your cum instead? Would that be easier if I ‘make you do it,’ so that it’s not your decision, you won’t have a choice, and you can’t change your mind?”

He still didn’t answer, but there might have been the faint sign of a nod of agreement, – or had I imagined that? He continued to watch me intently, presumably wondering where I had gotten this idea from, and just how far was I going to take it.

“Would that be humiliating for you? I would then call you my kinky, little-dicked cum eater, my sissy little cum slut. Perhaps I’ll make you wear a pair of my knickers at the same time. You liked it when I made you wear my knickers before fucking me one other time didn’t you? I know you’ve tried to get me to make you do it again at least a couple of times, but I keep pretending not to have picked up on it. Why don’t you just put a pair of them on yourself, without getting me to make you do it? Show me what sort of a man you are. One that wears the pants alright, – my pants, or should I say panties.” I chuckled out loud, then tut-tutted, disapprovingly.

I guessed that by his short, rapid breathing and the far away look in his eyes that he was excited beyond belief. The site of his cock straining and twitching did nothing to dispel this assumption. I might have just opened the door to something that neither of us previously knew existed.

“What a little sissy boy you really are. First, you wear my knickers when I tell you to put them on, not really expecting that you would, and then you confess that you like to be mocked for having a small dick. Now you want me to make you eat your cum?” I exclaimed loudly.

He moved his head, though it wasn’t clear if it was a nod or a shake. I knew he wasn’t entirely comfortable with how loud my last comments had been, for fear of the neighbors hearing, but I could also tell from the lust in his eyes that he was thrilled by the naughtiness of it all.

I took his indecisive head movements as a sign that he wanted to be seen shaking it, but that he was actually subtly nodding, and so I continued, making sure I spoke clearly, and a little louder than was necessary.

“Well alright, if that’s what you think will turn you on. We can pretend it was my idea if it helps you get over the guilt of eating cum – at least it will be your own cum. I know you will probably be all excited and up for it beforehand, but that as soon as you cum you will probably try and change your mind. I’ve read about that sort of reaction by guys before – it’s quite common apparently – so I’ll be ready for it. However if you have asked me to make you do it, you won’t be able to back out. There will be no changing your mind at the last moment. I’ll make you beg me to make you eat it before you cum, and then you’ll just have to go through with it, whether you want to change your mind or not.”

“Perhaps I could make you cum in my pussy then lick it all back up again straight away – you know, a proper creampie for you to eat? Is that what you want? With you tied down there will be no going back. To start with, I’ll straddle your little dick and bury it deep in my pussy. I’ll bring you right to the edge, then stop, and bring my pussy up to your face, make you lick around my lips, taste my juices, maybe you’ll even get to taste some of your own pre-cum.”

“You’ve confessed to me before that it’s a bit of a turn on for you to be made to lick my pussy after you’ve just had your dick in there, getting my juices running, haven’t you? Haven’t you?!” I repeated more loudly, eventually getting a reluctant nod back.

Continuing in a louder voice, I said “You’re not saying much, are you? Then again you’re not arguing or refuting any of this either. Can I take it that your silence means that you agree with everything I’m saying? Can I?” I asked again when he failed to answer. Again he gave me a slow, reluctant nod. “I thought so,” I said, just to officially confirm where we both stood to ourselves and anyone else who may have been listening in.

His hard cock looked purple and angry and throbbed and twitched away, with pre-cum starting to ooze from the tip. His eyes told me that he was begging for an opportunity for sexual release, even if he was too proud or humiliated to ask for it himself.

I begin to act out my words, climbing on, straddling him again, and positioning my pussy just above his cock, gently rubbing my pussy lips across the head of his penis. I gently kneeled down, and my moist cunt lips easily spread apart, as I allowed the head of his cock to slowly enter me. I held it there and felt him begin to tremble with excitement. After a few seconds, I slowly, deliberately, forced myself down, and his cock sank deep inside of me. He hissed with elation as my pussy finally enveloped his cock for the first time that night, and I must say, I drew a deep breath myself.

After pausing for a few seconds, I asked him “Is it in yet?” He nodded slowly. “All the way in?” I ask. Again he nodded guiltily. “Sorry,” I say, “it’s just that after that nice big dildo stretching me out when you go in for sloppy seconds with such a small cock, I can’t tell if you are actually in, or if you have slipped out or maybe even gone soft on me. You really do have a small dick baby, and I just can’t feel if it’s actually inside me or not. I hope you don’t mind me checking?” He shook his head.

I began humping him slowly, and I could tell he was very excited. “That’s it, my little man,” I whisper in his hear. Then louder, “Come on, fuck me with that tiny little dick of yours, baby. We can both pretend it’s a proper cock, even though it’s only a small one.”

The humiliation from these words was visibly getting to him. When I thought he couldn’t take it any longer, I held my body movements, and instead just clenched and unclenched my pussy muscles, feeling it grip and release around sides of his cock, as I helped get his pre-cum juices flowing, without taking him over the edge.

Then I sat up, feeling him slide all the way out of my vagina with a slurp. I shuffled forward on my knees until my pussy hovered, just inches above his face. He tried to sit up to reach it, but the restraints hold his arms back, and instead, all he could do was raise his head, his tongue eagerly outstretched, trying to get a taste of my pussy.

“Uh-huh,” I tut. “Not so fast.” “First of all, who is feeling horny?” I asked. “I am,” he mutters, “so fucking horny you won’t know what’s hit you in a moment” “Really?” I say. “Do you not realize that you are the one who is tied up and under my control? It will be me that decides when you are ready and allowed to cum, not you. Next question – who has a tiny dick?” He didn’t answer.

One of the strange quirks of this SPH fetish for my husband was that he still struggled to admit that he had a small penis, or that being told this turned him on. That’s not to say he didn’t like it when I told him how small he was; he just struggled to admit it to me himself. This still seemed to be the ultimate in humiliation for him – a metaphorical hurdle he had tried to clear on his own a few times, but always struggled at, without me pushing him along. I persevered.

“Come on little boy, admit it, tell me you have a small penis, or we may as well stop here.” I began reaching for the bindings as if to untie them. “I need to hear you say it yourself.” I leaned forward and whispered in his hear, “and make sure you say it very, very loudly – you know – loud enough for everyone to hear.” I cast my eyes furtively in the direction of the neighbor’s wall.

He could see I meant business, and he clearly didn’t want me to stop, so cleared his throat. He surprised me by beginning very loudly, almost as if he was calling out to me in another room. “I’m sorry baby, OK? Come back to bed. Yes, you’re right, I admit it. I know I have a small cock – much smaller than average – and I’m sorry it’s not bigger. I love it so much that you still let me make love to you with it, and that you allow me to please you with my tongue, and with your much larger dildo which I just love pleasuring you with.”

He stopped, his face flushed red with the shame and embarrassment of his admission, and the knowledge that if the neighbors were in their bedroom, they would not have failed to hear his outburst.

“Go on,” I said, pushing him for more. He began again, quieter this time as if I had come back to the bed, yet still just loud enough for the neighbors to possibly hear. “I really love it that you are honest enough to tell me what a small cock I have and that it’s not large enough to satisfy you. I understand why I need and deserve to be told about this so much by you so that I remain aware of it and can continue to try and make it up to you. You have every right to point out how frustrated you are with it, and in the future, I’ll try much harder to please you sexually in other ways”, he promised as he cast his eyes sideways towards the dildo lying on the pillow beside him, his voice quivering with nervousness. He stopped and waited for my reaction.

We paused, thinking we heard muffled, quiet talking through the wall, then it went quiet again. There may have been a slight knock on the wall, but then again it might have just been someone out on the street.

“That’s better,” I said quietly. “Now get that tongue of yours into action.” I eased myself onto his face and felt him feeling his way around my swelling pussy lips with his tongue, darting in and out, and teasing my clit. “Can you taste my juices, little man?” I asked as he worked away. He nodded. “What about your pre-cum? Taste that too?” He shrugged and continued with his tongue. I think we both know you are eating your own pre-cum by now, you kinky, dirty little man”, I said as I ground myself into his face, with a steady, determined rhythm.

I repeated this process another two or three times, each time first teasing his cock with my cunt, taking him a little closer to the edge each time, before returning my pussy back to his face, where his tongue lapped up our juices eagerly, as he hunted out my clit. There was no doubt in either of our minds by now that every time my pussy went back to his face, it carried more of his pre-cum for him to lap up. Just to be sure, though, I reached behind and gathered up the pre-cum that was by now continuing to seep slowly out of his cock in an almost steady flow, as he tongued my pussy. Reaching down, I held my fingers – wet and glistening with his pre-cum – just above his lips. He eagerly leaned forward and licked my fingers clean.

“Mmm, I see someone’s very keen to taste his own cum,” I say. “I wonder if he will be just as keen when it’s more than just pre-cum that he has to eat?”

I was so turned on with the power I held over him, and I was already in an incredibly high state of arousal. I could feel the excitement of adrenalin as it surged through my body. I smelt the aroma of my pussy, along with the clean smell of shampoo and moisturizers. I felt my cunt juices running down and out my pussy, and I could hear the slurping and licking, as my husband lapped them up, lost in his own desires. Every one of my body senses was working overtime, feeding me with information, and fuelling my desires even further. I was literally trembling with adrenalin and hormones.

I asked him if he was ready to cum. I asked him what he’ll do if I let him cum, and eventually, he finds his tongue again, telling me he is ready and he will do anything – absolutely anything at all. I tell him he’ll have to beg to eat his own cum, and that he has to promise me that as soon as he cums, he will clean it all up, like the good little cum slut that he is about to become.

I tell him a promise is a promise, that it’s obvious he must have wanted this for a long time now, and that tonight is the night he is finally going to eat his own cum. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Yes, what?” I ask innocently.

“Yes please,” he replies in an urgent but obedient tone.

“Uh-uh,” I tell him. “You don’t get it that easily. I said you have to beg”.

“Ple-ease” he whimpers.

“Please what?” I snap.

“Please, please make me do it.”

“Make you do what? You are making this very difficult for yourself” I snap, well aware he is now squirming with frustration and embarrassment.

Finally, he whispered urgently, “Please, just make me do it, baby, please force me to eat my cum.”

“You want me to make you do what?” I gasp, just a little too loudly, in a show of mock surprise, as if this wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “You really are so kinky!” I giggle, again just a little too loudly.

This wasn’t the usual semi-exhibitionist style for either of us, but then this was not a usual night for us either. I was by now far too excited and beyond caring too much about what the neighbors might think. What’s the worst that could happen if they were listening in? They were practically anonymous strangers.

It actually gave me quite a thrill to think that they might be there, just on the other side of the wall, listening in on us and some of the kinky things we were saying to each other, perhaps also caught up in our own excitement. I remember for some reason, wondering for a moment just how much bigger our neighbor’s cock might be than my husbands, and for a very brief moment, I felt a pang of envy that it was probably a lot bigger before the excitement of the current situation took over again.

Beside me, I felt by husband hesitate, unsure and unconfident that this was the way tonight was supposed to have panned out, lost and alone in this new territory that we set out to explore. “It’s OK,” I reassure him after a few seconds of letting him squirm, “this will just be between us now,” I said lowering my voice. “I just need to hear you say it yourself before I go through with it, to make sure this is what you really want to do.”

“I’m not sure” he whispered quietly, “but I need to cum so badly, and if these are the rules, then I’ll play by them.”

“OK, it’s your call,” I tell him. “Those are the rules. However, I need to hear you ask me to make you do it – properly.”

“OK,” he hissed in frustration. “Please baby, please, please make me cum, and when I do, please MAKE me clean it all up, even if it looks like I want to change my mind – I want to do this so badly, and I need to do this once, if for no other reason than just to get the idea out of my head. Hopefully, it’s just a one-off thing I need to try”.

“That’s more like it, my little-dicked sissy boy – you’ve just begged for it, so prepare to be made a kinky little cum eater,” I tell him, pleased with the result. “I don’t think you are going to like cum, but there’s only one way we will find out. Here we go now.”

At that stage, it’s very clear to both of us that we have just crossed a line – there’s no turning back now.

I spun around, straddling his face again but facing his feet this time, with my hands resting on his hips. He can’t escape, and he can’t resist my smooth, hairless pussy right in front of his face. I felt his tongue begin working its magic on my clit again.

Yet again, I’m amazed at how on edge I already am, despite not having had a lot of attention myself so far that night. I put all other thoughts aside for now and selfishly just concentrate on my own enjoyment for a moment. “That’s it, baby,” I tell him, “make it up to me for having such a small dick. Bring me to an orgasm with your tongue. Eat my cunt out!” I commanded.

Obediently he increased his tempo, flicking away at my clit, and before long, I felt the first waves of an orgasm begin to arrive, building, then passing through, then building in intensity again. I was in heaven, and soon I could hold back no longer. I began to shudder and tremble. He eased off just enough to allow me to catch my breath; then he buried his tongue deep inside my pussy before bringing it back out, wet with my juices, forcing it against my clit, flicking it from side to side in a circular motion.

Within seconds, and with the force of a fire hydrant I was overwhelmed by an orgasm the strength of which I had not experienced before. I groaned and cried out loudly in ecstasy, before finally biting my lip to avoid making any more noise than we already had, least the neighbors might finally decide that enough was enough.

I was totally consumed by the raw power of this orgasm, and I could feel my pussy quivering and convulsing as it continued to pass through me.

I collapsed down on my husband in the classic sixty-nine position, feeling his cock against my head, harder than ever, but I didn’t have the strength to take him in my mouth.

He continued flicking at my clit gently with his tongue, but it was now so sensitive that I had to beg him to stop. He continued to lick around my pussy avoiding my clit, lapping up the juices of my orgasm. I can honestly say I had never come harder than I did that night. The proof was seen in his face, now covered in my love juices, which I saw when I eventually did have the strength to sit up again, as I beamed down at him with a smile on my face.

“Wow!” I gasped, breathlessly. “That was really something!”

He grinned back sheepishly. However, it was clear he was still desperate for some relief.

I upped the volume a little. “Despite your small dick, you still sure know how to please a woman don’t you?”

He beamed shyly with enjoyment and satisfaction at the pleasure he had been able to deliver me and appeared unconcerned about anyone hearing that at least.

“I wonder if you’ll enjoy lapping up your own cum with as much gusto as you did mine,” I said, reminding him that this game was only halfway through and that only a few minutes ago – it seemed like half a lifetime – he had begged me, promised me even, to make him eat his own cum.

I leaned forward again, reaching down, took his cock in my hand, and gently begin to work away on it, holding it like an ice-cream, licking and sucking the head occasionally, but mainly just squeezing and milking it rhythmically. His entire body twitched involuntarily, still secured firmly by the arm and ankle restraints, as he responded to my touch.

His cock looked angry now, purple and swollen, begging for release, and I sensed it wasn’t going to take long. I felt his body begin to stiffen and tense up. I felt his breath against my thighs, and the vibrations of his tongue, as he moaned in ecstasy, his mouth covering my smooth pussy. His tongue still darted in and out, probing my vagina and flicking at my clit, with an urgency I have not felt before.

“Are you ready to cum, my little lover boy?” I taunt him.

He didn’t answer, but his dick began to twitch and throb and then, he let out a loud guttural moan, his mouth still covering my pussy, like three or four squirts of cum suddenly burst out, shooting several inches high, one even hitting my cheek, before falling back down onto his stomach. I soothingly clenched and released my hand, milking his still rapidly twitching cock, holding it firmly as the rest of his thick load of cum was pumped out, spilling out onto my thumb and forefinger, and dripping down over the rest of my fingers, with some overflowing onto his torso.

His entire body twitched in spasms as his balls pumped the last of his seed out of his cock, his orgasm slowly subsiding. After an eternity, I eventually feel his body let go, and he relaxed. I sensed the first stages of him wanting to change his mind on his cum eating promise, as he tried to roll his head sideways to get free from my pussy.

Unfortunately for him though, his head was still held firmly between my thighs, where he had been intently delving his tongue into my pussy, right up until the moment he came, just a few seconds ago. I shuffled back a bit so that I could see his whole face, yet his head was still held firmly between my thighs.

I scooped up the overflowing cum, and quickly – before he could protest – brought my hand to his mouth. He knew what was coming, and that it was pointless to resist. Even so, though, he still tried vainly to roll his head away. However, my hand followed his mouth the short distance from side to side easily. He was trapped, and he couldn’t escape.

I asked him if he is now ready to become my little cum eater. Out of embarrassment, he doesn’t reply, but he stopped trying to move his head around and closed his eyes, perhaps in shame.

I gave him a second or two to savor the moment and the magnitude of what he is about to do. To take in the taboo nature of it, what he wanted to have happened, what he begged me to make him do, but what he is now clearly having second thoughts on doing.

I’m surprised at how empowered I feel, as I look at my husband’s beautiful manly body, naked, and tied firmly to the bed, and gaze lovingly down at his face, held firmly between my thighs. I’m the one in control here I tell myself, trembling a little with excitement and satisfaction. I’ve not often taken the lead role in our lovemaking situations, and I feel the thrill and realization that tonight is a little different – make that a lot different – perhaps the start of a new side to our relationship.

“Open wide my little cum eater with the small cock” I ordered him. “You wanted this, not me, and you’ve made me promise to make you go through with it, no matter what. I’m not going to break that promise, and I’m going to enjoy making you do this.”

He opened his mouth just a fraction, and I lowered my cum covered fingers to his lips. He made no attempt to lick them until I informed him that neither of us is going anywhere until he has fulfilled his obligation. He reluctantly poked out his tongue, and timidly began to lick around his lips where I have wiped my fingers.

“Good boy,” I tell him, as I place my hand back in front of him, “but you haven’t finished yet – my hand needs to be spotless before you have finished your end of the bargain.”

He opened his mouth wider, and I bring my hand back to his lips, feeding him my fingers one by one, as he licks them clean, slowly and reluctantly at first, then increasing in tempo, as if he has finally accepted his part in this act. He realizes that the time to resist this act has already passed and he might as well get it over with, enjoy it even. I scoop up the cum that escaped my clutches, and which still lay glistening on his torso

“Well done,” I say as he licked and sucked at my fingers clumsily, like a teenage girl giving head for the first time. “You’ve almost eaten every last drop of your entire load of cum. As well as it is officially confirmed that you do indeed have a very small penis, tonight you also became my own little cum eating slut, by begging me to make you eat your own cum – and then you actually went through with it. How does that make you feel?”

I looked down and saw that his cock, which never really went completely soft after he came, is now starting to stand again. “Looks like someone likes being made to eat their own cum,” I whispered. “You can’t hide your true feelings with that little indicator down there.” I felt him pause from licking and feel the warmth of his face on my thighs, as he flushes with guilt and embarrassment, knowing that he’s been caught out.

“Who’s a good little-dick cum eater then?” I asked, in a deriding tone. “Who liked being made to eat their own cum?” I continued.

He didn’t answer and instead squirmed in shame.

“It’s OK,” I tell him, as I dismounted from his face, and spun around to face him, kneeling beside him on the bed, so that I could watch his expressions. “You are a kinky little cum eating slut. But don’t worry though; this will now be just another little secret of ours, just like your other ‘little’ secret – the one about your very small penis and your need to be teased and humiliated about how small it is.”

I paused for a moment, unsure whether I should finally make the confession that I’m about to make. However it’s been nagging at my conscience for a while now, and I decided that honesty is the best policy, and opt to carry on. “About your ‘small penis’ secret though, I’m afraid I do have a big confession to make. Unfortunately one of my best friends now knows about it.”

His eyes flicker open instantly. “What’s that?” I hear him ask in disbelief, as he stopped licking and sucking my fingers clean. I noticed the hardness begin evaporating from his cock almost instantly.

“I’m so sorry, baby. We were both tipsy when we met for after-work drinks about a month ago – perhaps I was just a wee bit tipsier than her. We were talking about lovers and former lovers, and the subject of cock size just sort of came up. She was telling me about how the guy she is currently seeing has a very small cock – the smallest she has ever had.

“I didn’t mean to say anything about you, but in defense of small cocks, I was telling her just how good small ones can be, and it just sort of—slipped out.”

He ignored my obvious but perhaps ill-timed pun.

“Before I knew it, the penny dropped, and we were both suddenly aware that it was obviously you and your small cock that I was telling her all about, rather than anyone else’s. She seemed fascinated though, not only to hear that you are smaller than average, but she was also especially interested to hear that you seem to get off on allowing me to – wanting me to even – humiliate you about the size of your little cock. I think she was wondering whether the same sort of thing might also be a thrill for her current man.

“She just kept asking questions, and… well, I just kept sort of answering them I guess. Once I realized she knew it was you I’d been talking about, I did make her promise not to say anything to anyone about it though, not ever.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I never meant to out you, or tell anyone your secret, I just got caught up in the moment and the wine, and she just kept pushing and pushing for more info, and well—”

I didn’t finish that sentence but left it hanging. I watched his facial expressions intently, though it was difficult to tell what was going on behind those fantastically blue eyes of his. Was it fear and humiliation that if my girlfriend talks – as she almost undoubtedly will sooner or later – others will hear about his little secret; that he has a smaller dick than most other men? Was it embarrassment and shame that I’ve spilled the beans and accidentally outed him for his SPH fetish?

Or possibly, was it excitement, knowing that one of my close friends now knows some very intimate details about him, such as his length and his girth, and probably that he’s circumcised, and even some of the kinks which turn him on? Could this possibly be an unexpected turn on for him?

“I’m not sure how much she remembers from that night – she’s not brought it up again since then. But then again, the two of us haven’t really caught up properly since that night either”, I said, trying to gauge his reaction. “She did seem really surprised though and was genuinely interested. Not judgmental at all, just really interested to hear that you have a small penis, and was she amazed to learn that you actually gain pleasure from being humiliated about it.”

I paused to let the information sink in. “Perhaps she has forgotten about what we talked about,” I tried to reassure him.

His erection, having initially softened to barely a semi, now looked like it was beginning to stir again.

“Then again, though, perhaps she hasn’t. She wasn’t as hungover as I was the next day, and she has a memory like an elephant for all the ‘little’ details.”

This pun also seemed to go unnoticed, as I watched him mull over this revelation, but I noticed that the hardness of his cock was definitely starting to return. I began to sense which way his mind was leaning on my confession, though not without some relief I might add. I hadn’t meant to tell anyone, and I was thankful he didn’t seem to be as concerned about it as I had expected. In fact, watching his cock now, I would say the news was having quite the opposite effect on him.

“I can find out what she remembers about that conversation if you like?” I asked.

“Umm, no, I don’t think you should bring it up again – not unless she does first” he replied.

I could see his mind working overtime, mentally trying to work out which girl I was out with a month ago whom I told. Unfortunately, for him, I have quite a large circle of girlfriends, and we regularly catch up for drinks after work.

His now fully erect cock made it abundantly clear he’s turned on by the news that one of my girlfriends had accidentally found out all about his small cock.

“Baby, um, I’m just wondering, does this news actually turn you on?” I asked as I nodded towards his cock standing proudly.

“No, of course not,” he replied, but without enough conviction to be convincing, as he willed his erection to subside, without success. “Which girlfriend is it?” he eventually asked, with a tremor of fear – but also un-concealable excitement – in his voice.

I considered whether to tell him which of my girlfriends it was that now knew his secret, but decided against it for the time being, in case it made things awkward between them. They were actually good friends and always had plenty to chat about when they did catch up, and I didn’t want to risk spoiling that.

“Well… I’m sorry, but that will have to be my little secret I’m afraid” I stated, matter of fact, now back in charge and with my confidence now restored. “But one day she’ll probably look you in the eye with a knowing smile – perhaps give you a cheeky wink and subtly flash her little pinky finger at you. Then you’ll realize that she’s the one – the one who also knows everything about you, your kinky fetish, and your very small penis.”