The Small Print

By ittybittyone45.


This is a story about the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. It starts with one of the happiest moments I’ve had in a while. Through a mutual friend, I was being set up for a date with the woman of my dreams. Meghan was a short brunette with gorgeous wavy hair down to her shoulders. Her body looks like Photoshop in real life. I’m talking big perky C-cup tits, an ass that would make J-Lo jealous, and not an ounce of fat anywhere else on her body. Meghan had gone through a breakup a couple of months back, and our friend Ashley suggested we go out if she was ready to get back on the market.

Ashley, I should probably mention, is also a complete smoke show. Tall leggy blonde with big bouncy breasts and a lean surfer build. Both of these women have made large contributions to the spank bank that I draw on frequently. So I thought I was the luckiest man who ever lived when I got Ashley’s text setting up a casual date for Meghan and me last Saturday, but I could not have been more wrong.

Ashley had set up the entire evening to take all the stress off of Meghan and me, which was actually a really nice change as setting up a first date with someone you don’t know well, can be pretty stressful. Ashley had gotten us tickets to see some kind of 18 and up performance comic, and honestly, I was so excited to be going out with Meghan that it never even crossed my mind to look up anything online about the comic we were seeing. That was my first mistake. While not every show is the same, it is apparently known to be pretty risqué and involves quite a bit of audience participation. But on a fateful night, I was smiling from ear to ear as I picked up Meghan, blissfully unaware of how the night would unfold.

I rang the bell at her door, and Meghan was an absolute vision. She had clearly gone all out for her first jump back into the dating pool. The blue dress hugged every delicious curve of her body and was barely long enough for her to bend down without giving the world the most amazing show any man could ask for. The neckline also plunged dangerously low, and the exposed side boob made it clear that those gravity-defying breasts were not confined to the prison of a bra but instead free and tantalizingly swayed with each high heeled step.

My cock sprang instantly to full attention, and for the first and only time in my life, I was glad of its size. Not, I feel obligated to point out, because it was impressive. But, unfortunately, at 3.5 inches, my cock has only impressed women that it is, in fact, possibly for a dick to be that tiny. The single upside to my less than impressive member, though, was that Meghan could not see that the second she opened the door, I popped a stiffy, much like a high schooler desperate to see his first pair of boobs.

The car ride was pretty pleasant, and I actually managed to make some passable jokes, which she genuinely seemed to enjoy. Finally, I started to relax as, despite all odds, this absolute goddess of a woman was enjoying my company. If I didn’t totally imagine, it might even be flirting with me. Stealing glances at every red light, I could see her gorgeous tanned legs as her dress rode up ever so slightly from sitting in the car seat. I gave myself an internal pep talk hoping in vain to get my eager cock to calm down as the last thing I wanted was to get over-excited and blow a load in my pants. As I finished my pep talk, I managed to check back into the conversation as she mentioned how nice it was actually to go out on a real date. Her ex, she explained, had always opted to stay in and fuck her brains out with his big fat cock.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I said that I’m not used to the whole first date thing anymore… and I swear you have nothing to worry about, he wasn’t THAT big, just like 7 or 8 inches probably,” Meghan explained in a way she thought what put my mind at ease.

My heart sank at that comment. She had no idea that she just said her ex that was more than twice my size, was ‘not that big.’ But before I had time to respond, we thankfully arrived at the comedy venue.

Walking in the door, they had us sign a release waiver as tonight’s show was being filmed. Not wanting to hold us up at the door with both signed without reading, which was mistake number 2 for me. If I had read it, I might have noted that tonight’s performance may contain nudity of both the performers and those called for audience participation. I also would have noted that all recordings of the show were the express property of the performer and were subject to broadcast in both censored and uncensored format across all media formats. But I would find all of that out much later after wasting thousands of dollars on lawyers, which ironically gave the videos news time and put my shame in front of an ever-growing number of eyes.

By the time we had ordered our drinks and found our seats, the show was just getting started. The warm-up acts were actually pretty funny, and all were fairly normal stand-up routines. A few female comics predictably made some jokes about poorly endowed ex-boyfriends, which I managed to laugh along to without giving my little secret away. On the other hand, Meghan seemed to be laughing so hard at the small dick jokes I thought she’d fall out of her seat, which, combined with her earlier comment, made me get a nervous sinking feeling in my stomach.

What was I thinking of accepting a date with this male fantasy come to life? At best, she might feel sorry for me and give a pity handjob before texting Ashley, asking why she set her up with a baby dick loser. At worst, she would laugh me right out of her apartment the moment my 3.5-inch dicklette was exposed, and she’d tell every friend who would listen about my shortcomings for the rest of her life. Oh, how wrong I was about that. What happened was worse than I could have ever imagined.

I was lost in the nightmare. What if scenarios playing out in my head when a waitress passing by was bumped by someone getting up. The tray of ice-filled drinks and frozen margaritas fell directly into my lap, and for what seemed like the first time all evening, my throbbing erection finally subsided. Unfortunately, though, the ice-cold drinks did more than deflate my boner. I made my excuses and quickly dashed out to the bathroom to clean up as best I could. I rinsed off with, of course, more cold water and went into a stall to pat myself as dry as I could.

Safely in the bathroom stall, I dared to survey the damage the cold had on my already diminutive member, and without exaggeration, I’d be lucky if at that moment you could have called it an inch. But, unfortunately, not much to do about biology, and stroking my cock in the men’s room didn’t seem a great idea, so I zipped up and went back to my date, determined to have as good a time as I could with this sexy angel I was lucky enough to be out with.

Getting back to my seat, I noticed the headline performer had taken the stage. Not having looked her up beforehand, I was also floored at how remarkably attractive she was. She was maybe 5’8” counting her heels, but her confidence made her seem over 6’0”. She was Asian with long raven black hair, small perky breasts, and a figure straight off a fashion runway. She was dressed in long black leather pants so tight it almost looked hard to breathe and a sleeveless tank top that left very little to the imagination.

Since she was already a few minutes into her set and I was the only person not seated, she noticed me immediately, and she also noticed my still wet crotch. Of course, under normal circumstances, my dick is too small to make a bulge, and people rarely notice a lack of a bulge as much as they do a big or small one. However, this was not normal circumstances, and she noticed right away from the wet, clinging pants that there was a small button poking out where there should have instead been a cock imprint hanging down.

“Did you piss your pants, little boy?” She asked to a roar of laughter.

I stammered a reply which she ignored and told me to join her on stage, at which point the stagehands being used to her antics more or less threw me on stage before I could object.

“Folks, it appears our friend here had a bit of an accident, but I think we can help him out.”

Before I could even begin to comprehend what was happening, I felt something hard at my back, like an upright table or one of those planks paramedics use to stabilize someone before loading them onto an ambulance.

“Nothing to worry about, little man,” she said with a devilish grin that sent shivers down my spine in both a pleasant and terrifying manner,” It’s always important to secure a child to the changing table, ladies and gentlemen. Still, I assure you it is for their own safety.”

‘Wait, what,’ I thought, ‘Did she say changing table?’

I started to fight against my restraints, but it was no use. This has to be a joke. Surely she can’t just pull someone on stage and take their clothes off in front of a room full of people and cameras. That HAS to be illegal. Right? As these thoughts raced through my mind, I glanced across the audience and saw Meghan laughing so hard she might fall out of her chair. The club seemed bigger than I had originally thought. Looking around now, I counted easily over 100 people drinking and laughing at my expense, but one table, in particular, caught my attention. Was that Ashley and her boyfriend Mark sitting front and center? Oh, God! Not just Ashley, but what seemed like our entire friend group was gathered at the 3 closest tables and staring right at me strapped to a table and at the whims of an increasingly sadistic sounded female comic.

“Well, these are clearly ruined, so no use keeping them,” said the gorgeous, domineering Asian woman now holding my fate in her slender fingered hands.

She wasted no time revealing a pair of scissors I was not even aware she had and cutting my shirt off. There was a series of woos and catcalls that I might have actually taken pride in if I thought there was a chance she’d stop there. But before the audience had quieted, I placed the scissors under the waistband of my pants and leaned in close, whispering in my ear so intimately I could feel her hot steamy breath on my face.

“Beg me to stop,” her seductive voice filled my head.

“Please stop,” I begged, but my pants were already on the floor in pieces.

At this point, you could hear a pin drop as everyone was caught in anticipation. The slender goddess walked around my nearly nude body, taking it all in with sick glee.

“I don’t want to spoil the surprise for the audience at home, but I think those abs may be compensating for something.” She said while waving her pinky finger to the cameras.

“At home?” I didn’t even realize I’d said aloud.

“Did you really not know? This is a live taping for a TV special, so I hope your little guy is camera-ready,” she said with a self-satisfied laugh.

I locked eye with Meghan, hoping for sympathy, and found nothing but humiliation. It was clear whatever slim chance I had with her tonight had been wiped out by a spilled drink and total bitch comedian. As I felt the cold metal blade of the scissors slip between my boxer briefs and waist, I saw Ashley and our friends howling with laughter, and Ashley’s phone pointed right at me, no doubt recording a high definition video, damn you technology, that would be shared to every person I ever met and then some.

“Holy shit!” the comic exclaimed as my underwear fell to the floor. “I knew it would be small, but this is ridiculous! It looks like a little button.”

She gestured for the cameraman to get closer because, as she explained, there was no way his zoom could get a good enough view of my baby dick. I felt like my face must have been fire engine red, and I hung my head in shame, which was unfortunate because then I could see that the cold drinks combined with my present nervousness had left me with a half-inch nub where my already tiny dick should have been. I saw Meghan get up to join our other friends who she had already know would be here as apparently I was being set up in a major way.

“Wow! Hubba-Hubba, miss! You’re not with this loser, are you?” The comic asked.

“Not really, in fact, this was kinda like our first date,” Meghan could barely speak for laughing,” Or should I say our last!”

The crowd roared with laughter at the comment, and Meghan was brought on stage where our comedian welcomed her with a mock sympathetic hug as clearly, SHE was the traumatized one for enduring an evening with the less than one-inch wonder. Once on stage, she explained to Mel, which I was just now discovering was our comic’s name, that a friend had actually set us up.

“Oh, she set you up, alright! Must not be a good friend!” Mel exclaimed.

Meghan pointed out Ashley at the front table, where she stood, and took a bow. Ashley explained to Mel, and by extension, the audience, that she’d actually caught me pissing outback after a party once where she saw exactly what I WASN’T packing. She hadn’t said anything, though, as we were all friends. She would have, she explained, took my little secret to the grave had it not been for what she’d overheard the other week. A few of our friends and I were ranking the females of our group based on ‘bang-ability,’ which was dumb, but we’re guys, and guys are sometimes dumb. She took great offense apparently to the fact that I said she looked fake and shallow. She also overheard me ranking Meghan here at the top of the list, and while she agreed that Meghan was a total knockout, she still felt I deserved to be taught a lesson.

“Well, that is quite the story,” Mel was clearly amused, “and thankfully, you took him to the right place. This baby carrot…wait, baby carrots are bigger…bottle cap? Yes, bottle cap dick is going to be seen worldwide uncensored on the internet and with the world’s smallest censor bar on prime time television.”

I saw a wicked smile on Ashley’s face as she suggested that I’d probably blame it on the cold and being a ‘grower.’ Mel caught on to her meaning quick and sent an assistant backstage with some instructions.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Mel said, mischievously beckoning Ashley on stage as well.

All three of these incredibly sexy women shared a moment’s glance before surrounding me. I felt six soft hands running all over my neck and torso. They kissed my neck and nibbled my ear as their hands inched ever closer to my now stirring dick. I felt my cock harden despite myself and thought that at least I could say 3 gorgeous women fooled around with me. But just as I thought I could feel the warmth emanating off of their hands on my dick, I felt something cold slap again the top of my cock, and suddenly there were no more hands on my body. I opened my eyes, realizing in the pleasure of the moment I had shut them to drown out the impossible situation I had found myself in.

“Lucky us looks like we don’t even have to touch that pathetic thing, and he’s already rock hard,” Mel taunted.

And I looked down, realizing that I was being measured in front of a live audience for television and internet fame. Worse than that, my happy trigger erection had just denied me even a few pity strokes from one of the vicious vixens. I couldn’t make out the numbers on the ruler from this angle, but the unnecessarily closed camera no doubt caught the exact measurement.

“Well, would you like the honor, Miss Meghan? I mean, you almost had to go home with this pathetic excuse for a child’s penis.”

“Oh my god! It’s three and one-eighth inches fully hard!” Meghan practically screamed.

“What? No! It’s 3.5 inches,” I said with immediate regret.

Ashley, the phone still in hand, took great pleasure in snapping a picture of my cock next to the ruler showing it clearly short of the 3.25-inch mark.

“Well, there’s no way any of my jokes could top this. Calling you a shrimp dick is actually an insult to shrimp dicked men everywhere,” Mel said just to ensure my humiliation was complete.

I was left strapped to the board on stage until the club had to close at 2 AM. Pictures were encouraged, and I am pretty sure every single woman and a good number of the men posed with me and my impressively tiny dick. Particularly embarrassing was when Ashley had her boyfriend take out his soft 8-inch cock to compare. The strangest part was that my cock never once went soft. Each insult only seemed to make me hornier. Finally, with the last call sounded, Meghan and Ashley approached me once again to remove my restraints and asked me in a hot breathy whisper into each ear if I had managed to learn even one teeny, tiny, pathetically small lesson. As I stepped away from the board with their hot breath still in my ear, I came all over the floor.

I felt Mel’s stiletto kick me in the back as I fell to the floor.

“Pathetic baby dicks never learn, now clean that up before I have security kick you out with no clothes or car keys.” Mel no longer looked like a comic to me but a full-on dominatrix.

Next year, I spent suing Mel to remove the videos from her websites and stop selling merchandise showing my 3 1/8-inch cock next to that damn ruler. Not only have I gone bankrupt from all the lawyers, but apparently, my court case makes for good TV because every lawsuit was covered extensively by the news. Which of course, Mel was happy to provide the video clips with the unnecessarily small censor bar, although it was really more of a dot. She also made sure they included the web links in their stories to the uncensored clips and mentioned me by name. So please, people, for the love of God, don’t sign those damn waivers as I did. I’m begging you to read the small print.

The End.


*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Just remember, even with the limited editing we do, it doesn’t mean any possible major flaws in this story were fixed.

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