SPH Experiences: My Alpha Roommate
By NotMyPanties69.
She was a hookup from a frat party—cute, tipsy, with short brown hair and a laugh that lit up the room. We stumbled back to my dorm around 2 a.m., Derek mercifully out. Things got heated fast: clothes flying, her on my bed, me fumbling to impress. But when I dropped my boxers, her eyes widened, then she giggled.
“Aw, that’s… sweet,” she said, patting my head like a kid.
We made out, she let me finger her—wet and warm, her moans fake as hell—but penetration? No chance.
“Maybe next time,” she whispered, grabbing her stuff. Before she left, she tossed her panties at me—pink lace, still damp.
“Souvenir,” she winked, gone before I could respond.
I stared at them, heart pounding.
Alone now, the room is quiet. ‘What the hell?’ I thought. ‘No one would know.’
I slipped them on under my boxers, the fabric snug against my skin, a thrill shooting through me. They rode up my ass, the lace teasing my tiny cock, which twitched to life. I lay there, hand slipping inside, stroking slowly, lost in the fantasy of Sarah coming back, overlooking my size.
The door clicked. Derek, back early from whatever. I froze, but it was too late. He flicked on the light, squinting at me sprawled on the bed, hand jammed in my crotch.
“Dude, what the fuck?” he barked, dropping his bag.
I yanked my hand out, scrambling to sit up, but the panties shifted, the waistband peeking above my boxers. His eyes dropped, narrowing.
“Are those… girls’ panties?”
Heat exploded in my face. “N-no, man, it’s not—” I stammered, but he stepped closer, smirking now, that cocky grin he wore when he had the upper hand, which was always.
“Bullshit. Stand up.”
I didn’t move, mortified, but he grabbed my arm, yanking me to my feet. The boxers tented slightly from my half-hard nub, and as I stood, the panties’ edge showed clearly.
Derek laughed, short and sharp. “Holy shit, you’re wearing them. Whose are they? Some chick ditch you mid-fuck?”
I mumbled something about a date, but he wasn’t listening. His gaze fixed lower, on the pathetic bulge. “Wait, lift your shirt.”
I hesitated, but his stare pinned me. Trembling, I pulled up my tee, exposing the flat front of the boxers. No real outline, just a small lump. Derek’s smirk widened.
“Drop ’em. I wanna see what you’re working with under there.”
“Come on, dude, this is weird,” I protested, voice cracking, but he crossed his arms, towering over me.
“Do it, or I’ll tell everyone in the hall you’re a panty-sniffing perv.”
Defeated, cheeks burning, I hooked my thumbs in and shoved the boxers down. The pink lace came into view, stretched tight over my groin. My little dick strained against it, the head poking the fabric, but it was comically small, like a kid’s toy.
Derek burst out laughing, bending at the waist. “Oh fuck, look at that! You’ve got a really tiny dick, man. Like, micro. Is that it? Pull the panties down, show me the whole pathetic thing.”
Humiliation twisted in my gut, but I obeyed, sliding the lace down my thighs. My cock bobbed free, erect but minuscule, veins barely visible on the slim shaft, balls tight and small underneath. It throbbed in the cool air, exposed, while Derek howled.
“Jesus, that’s smaller than my thumb! No wonder chicks leave their underwear—can’t even feel that worm.”
I stood there naked from the waist down, panties around my ankles, wanting to die. But Derek wasn’t done. He stepped back, unbuckling his belt with a grin.
“Alright, tiny, time for a real show. Watch what a man’s packing.”
He dropped his jeans and boxers in one motion, his cock flopping out—thick, veined, already half-hard and easily seven inches soft. It hung heavy between his legs, balls full and low. He stroked it once, twice, and it swelled, growing to nine inches of solid meat, the head flaring purple.
“See this? Big cock. The kind that stretches pussy, makes girls scream. Yours? It’s a joke.”
My mouth went dry, a mix of shame and something twisted stirring in me. He grabbed the back of my head, pushing me to my knees.
“Pick up the panties, pussy boy. Put ’em back on.”
I did, fumbling, the lace hugging my tiny erection again, making it look even smaller. Derek’s hand tightened in my hair.
“Now suck me off. Show me how bad you want to keep this secret.”
I leaned in, lips parting, his musky scent hitting me. The head brushed my mouth, salty pre-cum smearing my tongue as I took him in. He was huge—jaw aching as I stretched around the girth, barely getting half down before gagging.
“That’s it, suck my big cock with your little clit-dick trapped in panties,” he groaned, thrusting shallow.
I bobbed, slurping wetly, hands on his thighs for balance. The lace rubbed my own nub with every movement, a humiliating friction that had me leaking into the fabric.
He face-fucked me steady, grunting, “Bet you’ve never had a girl do this for you—too small to deserve it. Swallow it all, bitch.”
Saliva dripped down my chin, my knees aching on the dorm floor. Minutes blurred, his pace quickening, balls slapping my chin. Finally, he growled, holding my head still as he erupted—hot spurts flooding my mouth, thick and bitter. I choked, swallowing what I could, the rest spilling over my lips.
Derek pulled out, wiping his cock on my cheek. “Good girl. Clean up and keep your mouth shut.”
He dressed, crashing onto his bed as if nothing happened, while I knelt there, panties soaked with my own useless dribble, tasting him. I crawled to my bed, curling up, the shame settling deep. That night shattered something in me—exposed not just physically, but as the pathetic roommate with a babydick, forced to service the alpha. Derek never mentioned it again, but the power shifted forever. I avoided his eyes, jerked off in secret to the memory sometimes, hating myself more each time. College was supposed to be freedom. For me, it was just another layer of hell.
The End.
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