Exploring Small Dick Humiliation For The First Time

By Freya Ocean

“Are you up for some humiliation?”

I read again. 

“In what way?” I replied. 

He’d never told me that he had a humiliation fetish before. I didn’t take him as a particularly dominant man.

“Preferably towards me,” his replied.

Ah, he wanted to be humiliated. 

While he had never told me that he was a bit subby, it did make sense in my head. He had always wanted me to show him photos and videos of me with other guys to make him jealous.

I thought about it as I was walking to his place. 

I wasn’t sure I had it in me. I was quite subby myself. I had recently begun experimenting with being a top though.

The week before, I had tied a guy up, blindfolded him, and edged him until he begged me to stop and to let him cum. I had enjoyed hearing the agony in his voice as I stroked his cock. 

Fast and then slow. Fast and slow. 

I had never seen a bigger cumshot than I had that time. His cum had flown everywhere; in my hair, in my face, on my tits, on the floor, on himself.

It’d made me feel powerful. He was at my mercy and there was nothing he could do. 

I was starting to think there was a sadist hiding inside me. The sadist wanted to come out and play.

Humiliation was different, though. It was something I’d never done, or even had anyone do to me.

The rain drizzled down, dripping from the hood of my forest green raincoat. He was younger than me; his 25 years to my 33. A police officer. 

At work he was powerful. Behind closed doors he wanted to let go of his power. To give it to someone else. 

I understood it. 

Humiliation at Number 14

 “You can tell me about the last guy you fucked, how he was so much better than me and my small, limp dick.”

“Like I’ve ever seen your dick small and limp.”

“You will today.” 

I chuckled to myself as I wiped rain drops from my eyes. I wasn’t entirely sure I would.

He lived in a one-bedroom apartment just off a main road. Metal gates towered in front of me. I pressed the button for number 14 and waited. 

The buzzing sound let me know that the gate was open. 

I pushed the gates and walked up to his building. Again, I pressed number 14 and waited for the door to buzz. He was stood inside the door of his apartment expectantly.

He wore white shorts and a t-shirt, despite it being only the end of April. 

It had been a cold April too. He’d told me he usually wore shorts all year round. When I had invited him to a party in February once, he came at 3am wearing shorts.

He led me through the hallway into his bedroom. He stood by the bed and looked down at me, arms slumped at his sides. 

It was my cue to take control, to tell him what to do.

Easing into humiliation

“Take off your clothes,” I told him.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head. His chest muscles twitched a little. Then, he bent down and pulled his shorts down. He was naked in front of me.

His big dick was already hard. It was like it was saluting me. 

Not so soft and not so limp. As I had thought.

I told him to sit down on the bed and he did. I wanted him to watch what I was doing at first. I wanted to ease into the humiliation.

I took a bottle of oil from his bedside table and poured it all over his cock. 

Next, I put my hands around it, slowly stroking up and down. I went faster and faster, until his breathing became ragged and his moans louder.

Then, I stopped suddenly. 

He groaned. 

I began stroking the top of his cock again, slowly. 

“Wow, this is such a pathetic little dick,” I said and shook my head at it, pityingly. “Do you think you could ever pleasure me with this?”

“No miss, I don’t think I could,” he stammered. 

“I have never been with a guy with such a small dick. I’m so disappointed. It’s pathetic really. You’re not even a man, you’re just a young boy. How could you ever give me what I need?” 

I was stroking his cock slowly as I was talking to him. He moaned a little louder each time I said something horrible to him. His legs shook slightly.

“I fucked a guy before I came here. He was a real dominant man. He knew how to make me wet. When I’m with you I’m just dry like a pistachio nut.”

Nothing more than some skin

I could tell he was close to cumming. I stopped stroking.

“I don’t even want to touch you anymore. That’s just a disgusting piece of skin. I’m so embarrassed for you.” 

“I understand, Miss. I’m embarrassed too. It’s a pathetic dick. No more than a skin.”

“I might not even let you cum. I’m not sure you deserve it.”

“That’s up to you to decide,” he mumbled.

His cock twitched as he lay down on the bed. I’d never seen him harder before. 

I thought he would like the frustration of me not letting him cum. 

“Maybe I’ll just leave you here, balls full and aching, wishing I had finished you off.”

He groaned again, louder this time. If I touched him again now, he would probably explode.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?” I demanded 

“No, Miss, I don’t think I do. You should probably leave me in agony. If my dick was bigger maybe I’d deserve it.”

I told him I agreed with him. I stroked his cock again, making sure not to stroke too fast. I wanted him to beg for it. To beg me to be allowed to cum.

I stood up and put my shoes on. Before I walked out the door, I looked back at him.

“Maybe I’ll let you cum later tonight, on video for me. Maybe.”