Epochal sexual technology is rare and can hit like something out of science fiction. The Pill, which altered forever relations between the sexes, is a perfect example. No change so drastic followed the inception of the Vartan Procedure. But twelve years ago, as we all know, this invention impacted our sexual culture in ways no one could have foreseen. Ways that may never be fully appreciated. The procedure, developed by one Dr. Charles Vartan over the course of a decade, was a relatively cheap and simple outpatient method of vaginal reconstruction. Originally, it was designed to return functionality and a feeling of tightness to external female genitalia following childbirth. But it was also used to improve vaginal aesthetics, and in that sense may be considered cosmetic. Contrary to haphazard criticisms proffered when news of the procedure first broke by feminist and other hostile groups, Vartanian tightness was not intended primarily to promote male sexual pleasure. Men were admittedly all too eager to exploit it.

However, patients reported increased pleasure, as well. Clinical trials confirmed women got just as much out of it as their partners. The tightness benefited both. Gynocorp International, the company holding the patent, didn’t anticipate the Vartan Procedure moving beyond its post-childbirth application. They had to deal, too, with public distrust and skepticism over the sexual claims made by advocates and enemies alike. But as more and more women opted in for pleasure or vanity, the procedure lost its novelty, became more socially acceptable, and Gynocorp made money. Far beyond simple reconstruction, now virtually all adult women undergo the procedure at some point in their lives, and often several times, not just mothers. But that’s not the sexual turning point we’ve been talking about. The procedure is one thing; the way it changed how the sexes interact is another. That happened suddenly, through an unexpected source. You know what I’m talking about: Cherry and Andre. She was a former model and pop singer.

Not exactly a sex symbol but certainly no stranger to masturbatory fantasies. He was a former basketballer and rapper, known as a lady killer. They were the most famous celebrity couple in the U.K., and together revealed the true import of the Vartan Procedure. First came gossip. Cherry hadn’t been secretive about her various elective surgeries–nose job, boob job, face lift, etc.–and didn’t hide her pussy tightening, either. In public, she called it reclaiming her femininity. No big deal. By then the procedure was old news. The real story didn’t start until it was whispered she was having an affair with her business manager, a 50-something nobody, with nothing like the cachet of her famous husband. That wasn’t the bombshell. Celebrities cheat on each other all the time. What caught the public’s attention like a house on fire was that a former assistant claimed Cherry strayed with Andre’s permission. More than that, she denied Andre intercourse, letting him do no more than licking her pussy.

To top it off, Cherry told her assistant her new lover had a baby dick, no more than 3 inches erect. Everyone knew Andre was packing heat because a sex tape he had made with a former girlfriend circulated years earlier on the internet. No one could understand why he’d be thrown over for a less impressive man. Then there was the whole black/white subtext, with Cherry being Welsh and Andre of African descent. Denying her Mandingo husband in favor of a reportedly tiny white boy threw everyone for a loop, though most people didn’t talk about it in those terms. At first. The story might have gone no further. But not only did Cherry not deny it, she laid out the whole story in an interview on national prime time television. Yes, she had cuckolded her husband. Yes, she was sleeping with her business manager. That her husband was only allowed to go down on her turned out to be untrue. Cherry still gave Andre hand jobs and blow jobs. She loved his big, beautiful cock, as she put it. It simply wasn’t for her pussy anymore.

Her pussy, she thought, was too tight for her husband’s big cock. A more modest size was appropriate. Vartan vaginas, as some people referred to them, deserved little dickies. Anything else was too much. Bear in mind, the Vartan Procedure ingeniously combined tightness with flexibility. Whatever her partner’s size, a Vartan girl felt full. No matter how endowed, her partner felt snug. So here was no medical basis for Cherry’s preference. Didn’t matter. She felt as she felt, and her preference caught on with the general public. It was one of those inexplicable phenomena of popular delusion and the madness of crowds things. Women who had gone under the knife–increasingly, that was near–all of them–got it into their heads that they needed small men to please them. At least during intercourse. We know how impressionable is the female mind when it comes to fashion, and how conscious they are of social status.

There was a cascade effect. For perhaps the first time in human history, women competed for smallies instead of studs. Small penises were in. Some thought this strange happening a result of women’s desire to be perceived as tight. Whatever the reality of the procedure, if women let other people–especially other women–know their men were small, they figured their reputation for tightness would be secure. But they didn’t actually have to sleep exclusively with small dicked men to stay tight. The procedure guaranteed they’d stay tight no matter what. Sex with hung guys didn’t stop. Women were simply more likely to have long-term public relationships with below-average men.

Sex with studs went underground, for the sake of perceived tightness. Whereas, before, a woman might have tried to hide the fact that her partner was under-endowed now she shouted it from the rooftops. Women threw around measurements freely and encouraged their husbands to wear tight-fitting clothes. Whenever possible, they had their little men show off the goods. Skinny dipping parties, strip poker games, and other opportunities to get together and show off your man’s (lack of) size shot up in popularity. Often enough these public boyfriends were cuckolded by larger men.

If openly admitting to affairs had been somewhat normalized before the procedure, these days women kept mom. Or if they did confess to their friends, they stayed away from the topic of size. Your circle finding out you cheated with a larger guy meant they’d think of you as “loose,” literally. Experts theorized women strayed as often in the past. Certainly, they never lost their natural desire for big, beautiful cocks. Thus, the Vartan Procedure probably increased the number of tiny dicked cuckolds. Their sex lives were not commensurate with their elevated status, though now they at least got to feel snug when their girls let them inside.

*****

Pete knows he would never have made partner without his wife. No mansion in the suburbs, no in-ground pool, no luxury cars, and no overseas vacations. Before he met Heather, Pete was a mid-level grunt at his big city law firm, carrying water for the big boys, taking on cases no one else wanted. With Heather by his side, people finally noticed. She worked client dinners, broke into the bosses’ wives’ social circle, and turned the bosses’ heads. Everyone wanted a piece of her, which didn’t bother Pete. He felt lucky just to have her around. His sex life–or lack thereof–from high school through his first years at the firm followed a sad pattern. Though moderately attractive and well spoken, Pete didn’t go for high-value targets because of an embarrassing first experience. One of the pretty, mean girls from high school, Shirl, sucked him off in the men’s bathroom sophomore year, then spread it around school that he had a baby dick.

That ruined his confidence. Ever since, he’s chased at best moderately attractive, quite often overweight or homely, girls. He’d fall for them, and they’d walk all over him. Take his money–for clothes, food, rent, trips without him–and fuck whom they pleased. The pattern held for several short-term things and three lengthy relationships. (Sue, Debbie, Mary; too tall, fat, horse-face.) Pete dried out at 28, sexually and romantically. He didn’t meet Heather until his 36th year, so you do the math. He despaired of finding a wife long before then and assumed the only sex he could get without paying for it was with girls who spread it around. Whether or not this was because of his understatement, Pete couldn’t say any more. Instead of bothering, he threw himself into his work, with little to show for his trouble over many years.

Speaking of his shortcomings: 3.5 inches hard, and not particularly thick. Only one of his girlfriends ever confirmed that his penis was the source of her unfulfillment. (Mary.) Not counting that sophomore bitch. And that was in the haze of a breakup fight. Nevertheless, Pete knew. He could tell he left his partners unsatisfied. The guys they picked over him, when he happened to find out, all had a big dick air to them. The confidence, the swagger. You could sense they were packing. Then came the change. The Vartan Procedure was sold at first as post-childbirth vaginal reconstructive surgery. Gradually, women of all kinds had their lady parts tightened for the promise of increased sexual pleasure. Pete’s own sister, Gail, had it done. As she informed everyone, whether or not they wanted to know. Pete considered it too much information.

That wasn’t all. As I’m sure you know, the procedure flipped the fortunes of men with small penises upside-down. When it was revealed that international pop star Cherry cheated on her stud of a husband with an undersized man, on purpose, women at long last developed a thing for small guys. They wanted to be like Cherry and wanted to be known for having tight pussies. Big dicks became declasse, despite doctors insisting the procedure ensured tightness without regard to your partner’s size. Letting other girls know your man was small down there helped ensure they would see you as fashionably tight.

This would benefit Pete directly, as his wife Heather was one of the girls galvanized by Cherry’s story. She wanted to be seen as tight, and Pete’s was exactly the kind of cock to help. Off course, the Vartan Procedure ensured tightness no matter what. Women still enjoyed sexual pleasure from larger than average members and undoubtedly kept in mind all a big dick implies about a partner’s masculinity.

But try telling that to Lady Gossip. Gail was ahead of the curve on penis size preferences and saw the shift coming. This despite the fact that she kept seeing her ‘On again/off again’ boyfriend, who was packing a thick 7 inches. But that was her. Other girls had other desires. She watched one slut after another stomp on her brother’s heart and was long past sick of it. Based on the high school rumor mill, Gail knew her brother didn’t have much down there and assumed that’s partly to blame for his romantic woes. Two of Pete’s former ‘girlfriends’ also let her in on his secret.

The Cherry Bomb–as the media dubbed the seminal event in changing small penis status–had her friends and acquaintances chattering about where to find small men. She knew a small man. Perfect opportunity to set her hapless brother up. One night while visiting mom and dad’s for Christmas, Gail decided to introduce Pete to new possibilities. We join the scene in progress. After dinner, charades, and a nightcap. The parents have gone to bed. Pete and Gail are both sleeping over, each in their old room. Gail waits in the hallway outside the master bathroom for her brother. The toilet flushes and the sink runs. Pete emerges. She gives him a start, and they stand awkwardly for a moment before she starts in.

“Hey, bro,” she says.

“Hey, yourself. Long time no see.”

“A whole ten minutes.”

He expects her to proceed, but she stands there. “What’s up?”

“Listen, there’s something you need to know, but don’t freak out,” she says ominously.

“What,” replies Pete uncertainly, “you need to borrow money again? I don’t mind, so long as you leave me enough for rent.”

“No jokes. I’m serious…You, um, know about the procedure, right?”

“Procedure? You mean like to ensure due process, huh-huh,” he says as she grimaces. “Sorry, lawyer joke.”

“I said no jokes. I mean the Vartan…”

“Oh, ‘the procedure.’ The one you won’t stop telling people about.”

Pete was only mildly disturbed by his sister’s forthrightness, despite the fact that it was about her pussy. He had secretly watched her for years. Nothing especially perverse. Ever since she was 14, two years his junior and nowhere near his sexual thoughts, and she stepped into the early stages of puberty, he has noticed. He was fascinated, in a barely erotic manner, and never stopped noticing. She grew into a buxom girl with tits and ass to spare and a gorgeous head of curly blonde hair. He never thought of anything beyond that, until talk of her procedure put images in his mind’s eye. He was embarrassed by such thoughts, and would never have expressed them to another human being.

Gail continues, “That one, yes. You may have heard of Cherry…”

Of course, he had. He had also masturbated to her picture, and even to that sex tape of her husband on the internet before the big story broke. Pete was as confused as anyone that Cherry would cut him off.

“Are you selling People magazine? I’m not interested in that stuff.”

“You should be. Lemme tell you, I know about, you know, um…you remember high school?”

“Wait, where are you going with this? I have to go to sleep, or I won’t be up to beat traffic tomorrow,” Pete says as he moves to detach himself from his sister.

“Stay put. Listen. I heard the rumor about you and Shirl in the boys’ room.”

“Okay,” Pete says, stock-still now. That was a traumatic memory, and he doesn’t like the fact that Gail knows about it.

“It was all over school that you were, that you had…”

“Why are you bringing this up, Gail? Jeez.”

“One of your girlfriends told me, too. That you were small down there,” she says, glancing at his crotch.

“Gail, jeez! Who? Why are you talking like this?”

“Calm down,” she says. Pete is beside himself, but he keeps listening.

He finds himself oddly turned on, knowing his sister knows and is openly discussing it.

“I always hated the way your girlfriends treated you. But I didn’t think it was my place to say anything.”

“Didn’t stop you from letting them know you hated them. They all knew, by the way. They all told me what a bitch my sister was, the ones who knew you.”

“Not my place to say anything because I knew I couldn’t help!”

She looks at Pete sympathetically.

“Couldn’t help because I’m ‘small down there,’ you mean? Jeeze, you *are* a bitch. I don’t need that kind of pity. I don’t need to hear you talk about my dick and your pussy.”

“Pete!”

That was a bit too far, Pete realizes. He was indignant and turned on a bad combination. “Why are you going into all this, anyway?”

“If you’d let me get to it.”

“You’ve had plenty of time. If I talked around all my cases like this in court, I’d never win.”

“We’re not in court. Pete, come on, I have something to say. Don’t be so sensitive.”

“Okay, fine,” he says impatiently.

“Get on with it.”

“Well, Cherry has sparked off something. Girls who had the procedure done, they’re looking for a certain kind of guy. All my girlfriends are asking where they can find small guys.”

Pete goes from beside himself to clear across town. What could she be getting at? Does she want to set her small dicked brother up with her girlfriends? Was he so pathetic that he needed to benefit from some whore celeb’s weird fetish? But he is intrigued. It has been a while since he got any, and forever since he was in a meaningful relationship. He had given up hope. This could rekindle his romantic interests, if true.

“You want to set me up?”

“Yes! Oh, you don’t know how much! I want you to be happy, and I’m so happy I can finally help.”

She sounds sincere, and Pete believes her. But it’s a bit too much to process, there in their parents’ hallway, late Christmas night.

“If you want, I’ll do it. But I don’t want it to be like a science experiment,” he says.

“No, oh no. Nothing like that. The girl I have in mind is sweet. She wants to find someone just like you. Someone to treat her nice, provide for her, and make her happy.”

“Okay, well…”

“But first,” she says, “I have to make sure.”

“Sure? Of what?”

“This girl, Heather, she’s looking for something specific. I can’t go by high school gossip.”

“Huh?”

“Show me.”

“Gail, seriously,” Pete says nervously.

“Show me. Plenty of guys have shown me their cocks. It’s no big deal. Of course, in your case you’re not showing off,” she giggles. “But don’t be embarrassed. Things are changing. Guys like you don’t need to be embarrassed anymore. Plus, I’m your sister. So it’s not like it’ll mean anything.”

Pete hesitates. This is too much. He can’t show Gail. She’d know! It’s one thing for her to have heard about his dick, but actually seeing it? She’d know for sure. She’d always now, for as long as they lived. Then again, Pete was coming to realize he’s always wanted an erotic encounter with his sister. He hadn’t thought of it like that before. His attraction to her had always felt more like curiosity.

However, there were times it overflowed into desire, however briefly, like the time when her bathing suit top slipped down. A couple of pecks on the cheek burned for a moment. When he heard her boyfriend giving it to her on her parents’ bed when she didn’t know he was home. This is more like the real thing. Gail sees his penis out in the open. Ah, what the hell, he thought. Pete starts to unzip, and Gail puts out her hand to stop him.

“Not in the Hall. Go back in the bathroom.”

Pete trembles as he walks back in. Gail follows. She closes the door slowly, so as not to make too much noise. Her back is to him. He is overly excited and has his belt unbuckled and pants and underwear down to his knees before she turns. Crap, I’m hard, Pete thinks. Oh well, she’ll probably want to see me that way, anyway.

Gail says, “Let’s get on with it,” as she faces Pete. Then, with wide eyes, “Whoa, bro, you’ve got a boner!”

“Yeah, that happens.”

“Wow, you are small,” she says, giggling. “Sorry, it’s just, you know.”

“Yeah.”

Pete stares at her staring at his little dick. He can’t believe he’s in this situation. He’s amped up. He wants to grab her, do something, but stifles the urge. She continues staring.

“Can I touch it? You know, to make sure it’s all the way hard?”

“Yeah ”

Pete finds he can’t say much more than a word at a time. He wants his sister to touch him, though he doesn’t know why. He definitely doesn’t want her to know that he wants it. He also doesn’t want to do anything to break the spell. Gail reaches out and grabs onto Pete’s dick, which disappears into her small hand.

“Oh, wow, it’s plenty hard,” she says, then let’s go. “Thanks, we’re done. You can put it away.”

Pete complies. Just like that, the moment is gone.

“You’re what Heather’s looking for. I’ll text you details next week. ‘Night.”

Gail pecks Pete on the cheek, as she has many times before. Pete is left reeling, eager to go to bed and relieve himself of the tension Gail built within him in the bathroom. She exits, and he waits a minute or so, just in case. Then he goes upstairs, jumps on his childhood bed, whips off his clothes, and jerks himself with his thumb and two forefingers. He’s spent in no time. The cum lands on his chest and belly.

He ruminates for a moment before clean-up. The afterglow. This Heather person sounds promising. Pete can’t bring himself to think of a real relationship. He merely hopes he’ll get some action for the first time in years. Little does he know he’s about to meet his future wife.