- Free Sample
If he went to the pool around four am, then all the serious competition swimmers would arrive for their morning laps. Poor Sam was highly intimidated by these people with their muscular bodies and with the men—big cocks. Cocks he saw too much of it in the showers, and the changing area, and guys like Sam, who did not have a big cock found that super intimidating. If he had gone to the pool earlier, he would have avoided that embarrassment and had a nice swim in peace. He always had the pool to himself.
Then he could go home, have a nap for a few hours, and then go to work. His daytime job was in IT, and Sam was right at home with the nerds he worked with. There was a perception in some movies that the nerds ultimately won because they used their big brains to make big money, and that helped them get the hot babes in the end (the ones that rejected them in high school). However, the truth was that most male nerds had small dicks and big brains. Some would say God’s way of evening things up. So, while some use their intelligence to make a fortune, the babe’s still go for the hunky men with the huge cocks. Even your more average-looking girls will dump these small-dick nerds and settle for an average guy with an average dick.
So, when he was at work, it was a given that his fellow nerds never asked about weekends or ‘did you get laid’ type of conversations because none of them ever did. Their conversations were more about video games, the latest tech gadgets, and the latest dumb shit in the building who didn’t understand even the basics of computers. They found it fun when they discovered someone accessing porn through their work computer, and they’d all perv at whatever was turning that individual on before they reported them to HR.
Once, a photo circulated through work emails of a female supervisor topless. That was an enjoyable day. Sam still had a copy of that image, even though they were supposed to be purged from the system. All the IT guys do, and unbeknownst to that female, they all jerk off to it on a regular basis. Gooning is all these losers have. Jerking off is the only sex in their pathetic lives, and like all small-dick perverts, masturbation is something they often do. Even in public if they can get away with it.
It was this perversion that got Sam into trouble that night at the pool. Everything started normally. He changed in the empty changing rooms and went out to do his hundred laps. The worker there that night was an older woman in her forties, with huge breasts, and a thick body, but like all the pool employees, a qualified lifeguard. Her name was Bertha, which always made Sam laugh as she was the very epitome of the ‘Big Bertha’ stereotype. Her hair was dark and short, and her manner was gruff, bossy, and dismissive. Sam often thought she might be one of those butch lesbians. She had that aura about her.
When he finished his laps and exited the pool, he went to the male change rooms to find them locked. He rattled the sliding cage door to see if it would open, but it wouldn’t budge.
A deep female voice bellowed from nearby, “What’s the matter, kiddo? Can’t you see those changerooms are closed?”
He turned to face the intimidating woman and blushed. His dick shriveled in his bathers. “Un, sorry, ma’am, but my clothes and things are in there. I need to change so I can go home.”
Bertha looked him over with a smirk. The skinny weakling with the obvious tiny dick made her feel vastly superior in every way. “Sorry, kiddo, you’ll have to use the female changing room for now. I’ll go in and get your stuff for you. Give me your locker key.”
‘Kiddo,’ he thought derisively. ‘I’m fucking thirty years old, bitch.’ But he buried his anger and frustration because he knew it wouldn’t help him to be rude to Big Bertha. “OK, I’ll hit the showers. Just leave my stuff somewhere I can see it.”
She winked in an almost masculine way. “You got it, kiddo.”
Sam slipped off his bathers and watched himself in the mirrors, his wet body, his pecs pumped from his workout, the way his nubbin of dick bounced between his legs. As he walked, he ran his fingers through the light smattering of golden hair that dappled his chest, belly, and crotch. He enjoyed the feeling of exposure, showing off his ass to the empty changing room. Especially knowing this was the female one, and during the day, this place was filled with many naked women of all shapes and ages.
At college, Sam had developed a bit of an exhibitionist streak, delighting in being naked in spaces like this, displaying his body. Until recently, he still took the opportunity to strut around nude. Changing rooms and showers were a safe place to do this, to show off his thin body and discreetly compare his tiny dick to the much larger men’s cocks Sam would see. He loved to see their amused and shocked faces as they stared at his tiny dick, too.
But Sam wasn’t gay. When he was doing this, he liked the small penis humiliation he got in these settings. Sam also liked how public conventions of behavior meant that even though these men saw his babydick, they never really said anything to his face about it. He was, after all, just getting changed. Sam wasn’t rubbing it in their faces. But things changed for him when one black guy with a massive cock bullied him about it one day about six months ago, and ever since, the exhibitionist side of him had subsided. He thought that guy was going to beat him up or, worse, rape him. Since then, he chose to swim here early so he could avoid other men altogether.
‘Big dick energy was something to avoid,’ he decided.
Still, swimming always made him horny for some reason. As he stepped under the female shower and the cool water fell on his naked body, he gripped his stiffening little dick. A true representation of the prepubescent penis was his dick. At full mast, it stood proudly erect at three and a half inches, and it was really thin. However, Sam should have known better than to play with himself in these showers. But it was a stall with raised saloon-swinging doors, and he thought that he could keep himself concealed. Anyone passing by should only have been able to see his bare feet and well-trimmed toenails, the light hair speckling his ankles. Not that there were any other swimmers at the pool at this hour.
He had gotten into this habit at a gym in the city some years ago, which had similar shower stalls. He had become an expert in listening for approaching footsteps, the slap of shower shoes, or the opening of a door. He would give it a rest the second he sensed anyone was nearby. Truthfully, because he knew it was wrong and dangerous, the act became heightened, the riskiness eroticized. Though it embarrassed Sam to brand it—it felt wicked. Playing with himself in a public place with a slight risk of being caught.
He hadn’t cum for a few days now, and just rubbing his palm on the underside of his erection made it pulse needfully. He placed his left hand upon the wet tiled wall and leaned into it, then spread his legs wider. He closed his eyes and took his hard-on in his fingers. In his mind, he began to play a frequent fantasy of being seen like this. Caught masturbating in public by a group of women.
Sam imagined being watched that this wasn’t a private stall but a large open shower with multiple steaming heads. Women came in and out, gawking at his self-abuse, elbowing each other, maybe ridiculing Sam in harsh voices. In contrast, others cackled with throaty, echoing laughter. Recording him with their phones to show their friends and share on social media while calling others over to see this ridiculous little dick. A laughing stock, an obscene spectacle, but not a threat to these women. How could such a small dick be a threat to a woman, it’s impossible. The object of their disdain and ridicule.
He thought of his whole naked body, what a woman would see if she caught him in this compromised position. His lowered head, his back, his taut butt cheeks. Sam’s naughty backside was startlingly white, even against his pale skin. His flexing calves, his pumping shoulder—caught red-handed jerking his babydick. He opened his eyes and looked down, letting the shower stream massage his scalp and the nape of his neck, and stared at his aching dicklette. So tiny, but right now surely the hungriest little thing on Earth. Hungry to cum. Its usual pink was radiating magenta, ready to burst. He continued to tease it with his fingers.
One-handed bachelor sex, he had once heard masturbation called. Spanking the monkey, slapping the salami, choking the chicken. Even the descriptions made it seem ridiculous, buffoonish. He luxuriated in it, the lewdness of it. He was playing with his pud in public. He spread his feet wider and stuck his rear end out, almost going into a squat position, wiggling his hips as he slowly stroked his little dick. Sam wanted to feel as perverted as possible. And, in that moment of lust, he wanted to be caught in the act.
He moaned out, quiet and hesitant at first and then echoing around in the stall loudly. A goonish groan of self-pleasure. He reached the precipice of orgasm, one hand furiously whacking off while the other stimulated with his nipples. For the next few minutes, he closed his eyes. He lost himself to his outrageous fantasy, keeping himself on edge and panting like a dog.
“What the fuck are you doing over there, kiddo? Jacking off?” a harsh female voice broke his onanistic revery.
He turned to see a Big Bertha prying open the stall doors and stomping inside. Sam released his stiffy, and it swung around wildly, smacking against his pubic mound. As she battered her way through the doors, things seemed to move in slow motion, like Sam’s brain was shutting down from the mortification of actually being discovered like this. The naked man tried to turn from Bertha, but as she stepped into the stall, there was no way to hide his baby boner.
She pointed at his groin, the narrow rocket of flesh, and yelled, “I knew it! You goddamn pervert! You nasty little jerk off!”
Bertha grabbed his shoulder, turning Sam toward her and exposing his erect penis. He quickly tried to cover his crotch, but she slapped his hands away. He lowered his head in shame and stuttered, “I-I’m…s-sorry.”
The wide-set woman angrily shushed him. She kept one hand locked on his bicep and reached over with the other to turn the shower off. The woman was in his space, crowding him. Her huge tits scraped against his torso. He nervously took a better look at her. The woman was in her mid-40s, solidly built, with a naturally sour face, thick lips pursed peevishly, and glowering eyes with deep dark rings beneath them from working the night shift. She just wore a pair of white shorts over a one-piece bikini that showed off her huge breasts. Bertha was an inch or so shorter than Sam but outweighed him for sure, probably by at least forty pounds, and he could sense her strength as she wrangled him out of the shower stall.
“Get out of there! Come here, kiddo!”
His feet slipped on the tiles, and his boner bounced around ridiculously in the shuffle, slapping against his thigh and then his belly as she manhandled Sam. She didn’t seem to mind at all that his dick had just bounced against her stomach. He stumbled as she yanked Sam out, hardly resisting her grasp. He was so overwhelmed with embarrassment that he could barely see in front of himself. In his shame and confusion, he just let Bertha take him into custody.
“A jack-off artist, huh? A goddamn public jerk-off! Playing with your little dicklette like a pervert and then shooting your disgusting jizz where you please, huh? Leaving it for me to clean up?” she spat out, swatting the back of his head with each question.
Sam just accepted each of her blows, bewildered.
“I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget,” Bertha barked.
She continued to march him from the shower back toward the changing area. As they passed a mirrored wall, Sam caught a quick glimpse of their ridiculous image—a thickset woman with huge tits in shorts over a blue one-piece bathing suit perp walking a young, lean, completely naked guy with a rampant little boner.
“Move it, pervert!” she snarled into his ear, slapping Sam’s rear end with her hand to hurry him along.
With his clothes and changing in sight, he finally spoke up. “I’m really sorry, ma’am. I’ll leave, and I’ll never come back here,” he said as he struggled to get out of her grasp.
Bertha released his neck, staring at him in glowering outrage. Then, the thickset woman shocked him by slapping Sam across the face and the side of the head hard. She pushed him into the tile wall, seizing his arms. His face sizzled with shame at his situation, at letting himself get treated like this, but he felt paralyzed in the strong woman’s grasp.
“Quiet! And don’t fucking move.” Her big chest bumped into Sam’s as she held his arms by his sides. A citizen’s arrest. He lowered his head as she stepped back, looking him up and down. Bertha smirked with recognition. “I know you. I’ve seen you around here. Yeah, you’re that IT guy from that big building on First Street. I know your boss, you know. Frank Simons is a friend of mine.”
Sam’s stomach dropped. Her breath was warm on his face and neck.
“I always thought you were a pervert,” she said confidently. “I half expected to find you in here trying to sniff some stray female panties lying around. Would you like that? Would you like to jerk off while sniffing dirty lady panties? I bet you would, you little freak.” Then she looked at his boner and roared, “You little dick freak.”
Bertha gave a cruel laugh, and her hand slapped upside between Sam’s legs, whacking his small hard-on. Sam squirmed in place against the wall, feebly trying to close his thighs to protect his baby boner. It wobbled about ridiculously.
“What do you think old Frank would say if he told him I caught you playing with your little pee-pee in the female showers here?”
While her left hand remained clamped on his bicep, her right had reached over and was squeezing the back of his neck. She brought her voice to a low rumble, speaking close to his face.
“There could be real consequences to getting caught doing what you were doing, kiddo. They put perverts like you on sex offender lists. How’d you like to be known as a public masturbator? To have to explain this to the cops? I could get you in all sorts of trouble, kiddo.”
Bertha looked Sam squarely in the eye as her rough hand remained to massage the nape of his neck. He cringed as he accepted her attention. The only time he had been touched like this while naked was by the black man who bullied him in the changing rooms. A black man with a massive soft cock and heavy balls. The man who made him change from a harmless exhibitionist to someone shy to be naked in public. Now, it’s happening again at the hands of a butch dyke woman. It felt like such a violation. He wanted to jump out of his skin, yet his boner wouldn’t go down.
“So you better just do what I say and stop resisting if you don’t want me to tell dear old Frank what a perverted public masturbator you are, got it?”
She grinned savagely, enunciating the words hatefully and leering at Sam, laughing at his still-hard little dick. Her hand caressed the side face roughly possessively. He hated being touched by her like this. The naked man flinched, fearing he would be slapped again. Bertha snickered at this and instead grabbed his ear, yanking Sam’s head down.
“Come here, kiddo!”
She dragged him a few feet further into the changing room, pulling Sam painfully by his ear lobe, then sat on the wooden bench that looked into the shower area. Before he knew it, he was over her lap, his belly against her right thigh and his face inches from the floor. His hard-on pressed against Bertha’s shorts. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on Sam, but he was too dazed to resist. Something in Bertha’s outraged bearing made the naked man compliant, kept him in place there, nervously panting. With a thrilling jolt of shame, Sam thought of how he had shown this kind of cowed reaction to that black man six months ago.
When people got aggressive, got in his face, or bumped chests with him, Sam would always back down because he was the epitome of the beta male. It was rare, as he tended to avoid conflict altogether, but a few incidents came to mind. A scuffle in a college bar over a spilled drink, an argument over a parking space, the black man who caught him staring at that monstrous cock in the changing rooms. Then, as now, Sam had been unable to react at the moment and let himself be pushed around, later to nurse a face-searing humiliation as well as a strange, secret sense of titillation at being manhandled. To be selected by a strong and angry man or woman as his victim scared and thrilled him.
This was new, of course. Never had Sam found himself butt naked over the lap of an older woman. Her left hand pressed firmly down on his lower back while her right hand seized his butt cheek. She squeezed and kneaded the smooth flesh of his buttocks, her fingers curling into the cleft between them. A woman had never touched Sam like this before, felt him up, and poked at his butt hole. He couldn’t tell if she was acting on sexual impulse or just letting him know that his ass was thoroughly hers.
But Sam couldn’t consider it further because she lifted her hand and whipped it back down upon his rump. He yelped at the sharp jolt of pain. Ten more smacks followed in quick succession, Bertha’s big, heavy hand managing to claim both of his buttocks as its target. His legs kicked out reflexively, and her left hand secured him in place. The angry battleax was giving Sam a spanking. He was a grown man being spanked like a naughty little boy.
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