The sun beat down on the crowded beach, waves crashing rhythmically against the shore as surfers dotted the water like seals in a feeding frenzy. I paddled out on my board, the salty spray stinging my eyes, my loose board shorts clinging to my thighs. Underneath, my pathetic little dick—barely an inch when soft, smooth, and hairless—swayed freely with the ocean’s roll, but out here, it stayed hidden in the folds of fabric.

The set built fast, a monster swell rising on the horizon. I caught it late, kicking into position as the wave towered over me, curling with raw power. My board sliced down the face, but the lip slammed shut like a vice. Water engulfed me, tumbling me in a violent spin. I felt the shorts snag on something sharp—maybe a reef edge or the board’s fin—and then a sharp rip echoed through the roar.

Wipeout!

I surfaced gasping, arms flailing, but my lower half felt wrong—exposed, the cool Pacific lapping at bare skin. Panic hit as I realized: my trunks were gone, shredded away by the wave’s fury. My tiny cock bobbed in the current, the soft nub fully nude, my smooth balls tightening against the chill. I desperately scanned the water, but my swimtrunks were lost to the depths.

Kicking toward shore, I kept low, trying to shield myself with one hand while clutching the board leash with the other. The beach loomed closer, packed with sunbathers, families, and groups of bikini-clad women lounging on towels. Volleyball games paused mid-spike, heads turning as I washed up.

Finally, my feet hit sand. I staggered upright, water streaming off my naked body, and that’s when it sank in. I stood there completely bare on the busiest stretch of sand. My one-inch dick limp and exposed, glistening under the sun, my compact sack hanging right below for all to see. A breeze hit, making the little head twitch involuntarily.

The beach erupted. A mom nearby yelped, yanking her kid’s gaze away while fumbling for a towel. “Cover yourself!” she hissed, but her eyes flicked back despite herself.

Some guy yelled, “Look… A white pointer,” and all his friends looked and laughed at me.

A pack of college girls on neon blankets burst into laughter, one shielding her mouth as she stared openly.

“Oh my god, is that real? It’s like a little worm!” her friend cackled, pulling out her phone to snap pics before I could react.

I cupped my hands over my crotch, but it was futile. The tiny bulge barely filled my palms, leaving my ass cheeks clenching in the open air. Surfers paddling in hooted from the lineup, one yelling, “Wipeout of the year! Lost more than your balance, dude!”

Families scattered, dads chuckling under their breath while corralling wide-eyed children.

One dad said, “God, now I don’t feel so bad about the size of mine. I’m huge compared to that little thing.”

An older couple on beach chairs gawked, the woman whispering, “I’ve heard of grown men having boy-sized genitals. I’d never thought I’d actually see one in real life,” loud enough to burn my ears.

Hot shame flooded me as I shuffled toward my towel pile, every step jiggling my exposed genitals. Trying to hold my surfboard and cup my small, smooth genitals with one hand is not as easy as it sounds.

Bystanders pointed and whispered, “Look at that micro thing. It’s totally smooth down there like a baby.”

“Like a baby in every way,” a friend added to laughter.

A group of teens high-fived, one mimicking my tiny size with pinched fingers, their giggles echoing over the waves.

I grabbed a towel, finally, wrapping it tight, but the damage was done. My humiliating nudity etched into the beachgoers’ stares, my soft, inch-long dick forever the punchline of the day.

From that day on, the surfers gave me the nickname of ‘Slug,’ as an homage to my tiny dick. I had to take it and laugh along. I love surfing and want to keep doing it. Once the initial gossip about this day died down, no one paid me much attention, and I was able to surf in peace. But it does make me shiver a bit when I sometimes hear across the water as I’m waiting for a wave, “Hey, Slug… How’s it hanging?” followed by laughter.

So what? When I catch that perfect wave, then all this crap seems so unimportant and trivial.

 

The End.

 

 

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