The Small Dick Club: SPH-THEMED STORIES

I’d always known deep down that something was off in my relationship with Kylie, but I buried it under layers of denial and hope. At 29, I was finally engaged to the woman of my dreams—bright, beautiful, with that killer smile that lit up rooms. We’d been together for three years, and despite my insecurities about my body, she always reassured me. “Size doesn’t matter,” she’d say after we’d fumble through sex, her moans sounding forced even to my ears.

My dick? It’s a pathetic little thing—barely four inches hard, shrinking to nothing when I’m nervous, which is always. I’d spent my life avoiding intimacy because of it, but Kylie made me believe we could make it work. Or so I thought.

It was a Friday night, the kind where plans fall through, and you end up crashing early. Kylie had invited her best friend Jessica over for ‘girl talk’ while I pretended to watch the game in the living room. Their laughter drifted from the kitchen, light at first, then turning hushed and conspiratorial. I muted the TV, curiosity pulling me toward the door. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just wanted to check if they needed refills on their wine. But as I hovered in the hallway, Kylie’s voice cut through, sharp and unfiltered.

“God, Jess, I can’t keep doing this. Last night with him was another disaster. He tried so hard, thrusting away like a little rabbit, but his tiny dick just… pokes around. I faked it, like always, but I’m dying inside.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. I pressed closer to the wall, breath shallow, praying I’d misheard.

Jessica snorted, her voice laced with that bitchy edge she never hid from me. “Kylie, seriously? Have you been putting up with that micro-cock for three years? Dump his ass before the wedding. You’re too hot for this shit. Remember that guy from the gym last week? The one with the thick nine-incher who bent you over in the locker room? That’s what you deserve, not playing pretend with your fiancé’s nub.”

I froze, stomach churning. The gym? Kylie had said she was at yoga. Flashes hit me—her late nights working overtime, the way she’d shower immediately after coming home, smelling faintly of unfamiliar cologne. Cheating. Regularly. Because of me. Because my dick was too small to satisfy her.

Kylie sighed, but there was no regret in it, just resignation. “I know, I know. But I love him, Jess. He’s sweet, treats me like a queen. The ring on my finger? He saved for a year to buy it. It’s not his fault he’s hung like a toddler. I’ll just keep fucking around on the side. That bartender from last month, the one who railed me in his car until I screamed—guys like that keep me sane. As long as he doesn’t find out, we can make it work.”

Love.

She loved me, despite my tiny dick.

But that love came with a side of betrayal, her pussy getting stretched by strangers’ cocks while I jerked off alone, imagining her body under mine. Heartbreak twisted in my chest, hot and nauseating. I wanted to burst in, scream, and demand answers. But my feet wouldn’t move. Unsure what to do—confront her and lose everything, or pretend and live with the lies?

Jessica laughed, clinking her glass against Kylie’s. “You’re crazy. Love? For what, emotional support while you chase real dick? Tell him the truth. Show him the pics from your hookups if you have to. Turn him into your little cuckold. Make him watch next time, or better yet, fluff the guy before he fucks you. Bet that shrimp between his legs would twitch at the humiliation.”

Kylie burst out laughing, the sound like glass shattering in my soul. “Oh my God, can you imagine? Him sitting there, stroking his baby carrot while a real man pounds me? He’d probably cum in his pants without touching it.”

Their giggles echoed, carefree and cruel.

“You’re a better woman than me,” Jessica cooed. “I would have dumped his ass the moment I saw that little thing.”

Kylie giggled. “I nearly did,” she confessed. “But then he looked so pathetic that I kinda felt sorry for him and let him do me. But as I got to know him, I realized he was a great guy, despite his deficiencies. But I love the cuckold idea. That would be the perfect solution. The best of both worlds. I get to enjoy a good life with him and a good amount of big cocks pounding me raw.”

“Oh, Kylie. You’re such a slut,” Jessica said and laughed. “Or you could dump babydick and marry a good guy with a big cock and live happily ever after.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kylie groaned, and both giggled.

Horror washed over me, cold and complete. The girl I loved—my fiancée—wasn’t just unfaithful; she was plotting to humiliate me further, reducing me to a sideshow in her affairs.

I backed away silently, retreating to the bedroom, mind reeling. That night, as she slipped into bed beside me, oblivious, I stared at the ceiling, tears burning my eyes.

Break it off?

Fight for us?

The ring on her finger felt like a noose now, tightening with every memory of her ‘love.’

My tiny dick throbbed uselessly under the sheets, a cruel reminder of why she’d never truly be mine.

I really don’t know what to do about it.

 

The End.

 

 

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