- Free Sample
Still, if anything I’m persistent, and I suppose as a naive nineteen-year-old trying to understand all the bullshit going on around me, I had to be. Dating seemed much harder than I imagined it would be, probably no different from heterosexual dating. I’m not a bad-looking guy, even if I am on the chubby side. So I thought I’d have no problems meeting men. The men I did meet and date ended pretty quickly, especially after we had been intimate for the first time. It frustrated me to think guys could be such jerks. Now I know-how women felt on the dating circle.
The other side to my story is I’m a struggling law student at Melbourne University, Australia.
Luckily, I didn’t have to pay school fees until I was paying taxes (that’s how it works in Australia), but I still had to eat, pay rent, buy stuff, and all that. As a result, I’m nearly always broke. One day, in a gay bar near my campus this guy in his fifties, smoking a smelly cigar, and wearing a white suit with a fedora hat, came and sat next to me. I inwardly sighed, as the old pervs loved guys like me, as I’m what’s called ‘a leftover’. Once all the hot guys paired, I’m one of the loser’s leftover for the older men to swoop in on and have a crack at.
He asked, smiling a set of perfect white teeth, “May I buy you a drink?”
“Sure,” I said, I never refuse a free drink.
Buying me a drink didn’t mean I had to suck his cock, or let him fuck me. He ordered two beers from the bartender, and motioned me to a cubicle in the far corner. I agreed to go with him if he didn’t try any funny stuff. He laughed, and said he promised to keep his dick in his pants. So I went with this older guy to have a beer with him.
Once we were seated, he held his hand across the table, and said cheerfully, “My name is Chas.”
I shook his hand. “I’m James, but people call me ‘Red’.”
He took a drink of his beer.
“I’ve been watching you. You’re an intriguing young fellow.”
“Oh? Is that your best pickup line? Admitting you’re a stalker,” I said, rolling my eyes.
He smiled, amused by my comment.
“Don’t be too hasty in judging me, Red. I’m not one of those sad old homo’s trying to score any young man they can get their creepy hands on.”
“Oh, and what are you then?” I asked, and drank some beer.
“I’m a businessman, and I’m looking for a special person to join my team. I’m wondering if you might be that man.”
A job offer, as a perpetually broke student that got my attention.
“Depends what kind of business you’re in, I suppose.”
Chas smiled warmly at me, followed by taking a gulp of beer. His eyes never left mine, giving me the impression his mind grappled with how best to word his proposal.
Putting his glass on the table, he said, “I run a stable of exotic performers. We perform at exclusive events. The pay is good, of course, and you’ll be well looked after.”
I drank some of my beer so I could think. Exotic performers, I thought anxiously, a stripper or a prostitute?
“I’m not a male prostitute, sorry,” I said.
Chas laughed heartily, slapping the table and making others turn and stare at us.
“I’m not a pimp. Besides, if I were a pimp I’d hardly be sitting here talking with the likes of you.”
He laughed hard again at the absurdity of the idea of me working as a prostitute, which did hurt my feelings. I could feel my face burn red for a moment, which made him laugh even more.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come now, Red, you’re a big boy now,” he said jovially. “A man who can hardly pick up in a gay nightclub, where every man is gagging for cock, is hardly going to get many customers as a man whore, now is he?”
He laughed again as I grimaced and swallowed hard, he had made a bullseye I didn’t care to think about.
“For a man trying to recruit me, you’re not selling it well,” I said, and sneered at him.
I went to leave, but he grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit again. I couldn’t believe how strong he is for an older man.
“Stop acting like a child. You and I both know why your dance card isn’t full, and that’s why I’m here.”
I blushed again.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, knowing what he’s talking about.
“OK, so you want me to spell it out for you? Red, you have a tiny cock, and that’s why as a gay man your sex life isn’t what you hoped it to be.”
Chas’s word made me stare into my beer wishing the cubicle would swallow me. I picked up my drink and sipped it to give me time to think. If I heard him correctly, he wants to hire me for his troupe of performers because I have a small cock, I thought. The proposal seemed weird to me. Is this a kinky sex thing, I wondered? Eventually I asked the pertinent question.
“So how is the size of my dick relevant to your job offer?”
His blue eyes and white teeth flashed, the charisma of the man alluring me.
“It depends what size we’re talking about here. If you’re say four-inches hard, you won’t be suitable for the job. Those types are common these days. No, I’m looking for a unique man who has a cock less than three inches hard, the smaller the better. If you’re a man like that, we’ll have a profitable arrangement.”
“So what makes you think I have a dick that small?”
Chas sat back in the chair with a confident grin, as if a king surveying his throne room.
“I’ve heard whispers about you, but I’ll need to see it myself to verify it. If you’re interested in my proposal. If not, then I’ll leave here and never bother you again. So what’s it to be?”
I tried my hardest to resist his charms, however, something mysterious about him influenced me. I could feel myself getting nervous tingles in my stomach.
“I still have no fucking idea what you do, though. ‘Exotic performers’ can mean anything.”
Chas raised his hand to the barkeep, and ordered two more pints.
“Fair question. I run a troupe of men and women with ‘unusual’ physical characteristics. My troupe gets hired to perform at exclusive events where their unique bodies inspire and entertain.”
Chas handed the barkeep some money as the beers were deposited in front of us. I took a drink of the cold beer waiting for the barkeep to leave, thinking.
“How do your performers entertain the guests, exactly?” I asked, once we were alone.
“My performers display their bodies for the guests to view. But I assure you, there’s no sex involved, as that’s illegal.”
He winked at me. I began to feel grossed out, as what he was implying dawned on me.
“I see, and you want me to display my small dick to the public? Is that it?”
He nodded sagely.
“Son, not many are suited to this job, even if they meet the entry requirements. It takes courage, as the guests at these events can be nasty with their comments.”
I guffawed. “Way to sell it, Chas.”
He shook his head, saying, “They can also be complimentary, too. Its human nature when confronted with people who are different.”
“There’s plenty of guys into small penis humiliation, why not ask them?”
“Finding the right man for this job has proved difficult. Yes, many men claim they like small penis humiliation, but I find when they experience it on this level, well, let’s say, not many last the distance.”
“So what makes you think I’ll last?”
“Honestly? I don’t think you will, because I can already see you’re defensive about it. Your size, I mean. But I keep trying, hoping one day I’ll find the right man.”
He sighed wistfully, and drank more beer.
“I share your pain,” I said cheekily. “How much does it pay?”
I’m studying to be a lawyer, so I’m always the pragmatist. He nodded at me. My question a sign that the fish is seriously checking out the bait now.
“I pay each performer Five-hundred dollars per event, and of course they can get tips from the guests. Some of my performers make around five-grand a night, for standing there and letting people look at them.” He downed his beer, the raised his arm to ordered two more pints. “Drink, boy,” he said, and I did.
The lure of that kind of money is strong, there’s no doubt. Especially to a poor university student.
“Do the guests have to see my face?”
“I do have some performers who prefer to wear masks, but I find that those whom wear masks usually get less tips, than those who don’t. You’ll make more money if you show your face. But I don’t force anyone to do that, it’s the performer’s choice.”
Two more pints were delivered.
I picked mine up to drink, but asked, “Do the guests touch you?”
Chas vehemently shook his head.
“No, it’s not permitted to touch a performer during an event, and we strictly police it. Guests can leave their card if they want to meet you for other activities, it’s up to you if you want to pursue that. One rule is you cannot use performing as an opportunity to prostitute.”
He took his beer and pushed one to me, indicating I should drink the one I had.
I gulped the rest of my beer, and put the glass down.
“It sounds like a freak show?”
My mind felt wobbly from the alcohol.
“Yes, that’s precisely what it is,” Chas said matter of factly.
Suddenly, I broke out laughing.
“Freak Shows are passé these days. You can see all that shit on the Internet for free!”
Chas smiled too, nodding with a slight shrug.
“True, but answer me this question. Is a picture of Uluru, or the Sydney Opera House and bridge, as good as seeing it for real?”
“The pictures are cool, but seeing those places for real is better.”
“My customers get a kick out of seeing the bizarre and exotic before their eyes. Pictures on the Internet can never replace that.”
Sounds too easy, I thought suspiciously. He makes it sound like Shangri-La, but I know human nature better than that.
“Your customers get a kick out of feeling superior to the freaks, more like it. That’s why they abuse them.”
I watched him closely to gauge his response.
He shrugged indifferently.
“It’s merely how they choose to be entertained. Some like to admire the performers, and some like to mock them.”
“I’m sure the mocking is more common,” I said, and took another drink.
Chas frowned. “Red, always remember that how people react has nothing to do with the person the performer is. It has more to do with the person the guest is.”
Now I laughed, his bullshit so engrossing, I’ll give him that.
“So, in other words, don’t take it personally. That’s easy to say when you’re not the one being mocked,” I said, and finished my third pint in quick succession.
Chas looked at his watch impatiently.
“Well, I’m afraid I have another appointment soon, so I wanted to see if you might be interested. Providing your dick is small enough?”
Crunch time, I thought. Chas’s job is an intriguing offer, and the money is amazing, but it sounded scary too.
“I don’t know. The money sounds good, but the job itself sounds utterly horrifying,” I said honestly.
“May I see your little fellow? That way I can at least decide whether you’re worthy of the job to begin with,” he asked with raised eyebrows.
I felt tipsy, probably his intention.
“OK, it might be cool to be knocked back cos my cock is too big for a change.”
We laughed, and Chas stood and walked toward the men’s room gesturing me to follow. We went into one of the cubicles and he lowered the seat cover and sat, while I stood facing him.
“Come on, Red, down with your pants,” he said, almost licking his lips with expectation.
So I pulled down my pants, and boxers all, in one hit, and stood exposed at this stranger I had known for about thirty minutes. So much for not letting this old guy get me into a compromising position, I thought sarcastically. My cock doesn’t hang when flaccid as with most men, and because I’m chubby the head of my penis hides inside my pubic mound. I am circumcised. Unlike other small dick guys I had met who always had large ball sacks under their tiny cocks, my balls are small too. In fact, you could say my balls are in proportion to the size of my cock. The reason for my small balls is, I was born with Klinefelter’s Syndrome.
Chas said, “So far so good.”
He smiled at me. He suddenly leaned forward, and my knob went in his mouth. I felt him sucking and licking it.
My head fell back, and I closed my eyes, and as the sensations grew so did my cock. After about two minutes, he stopped sucking me, and I opened my eyes and looked at him. He had pulled a ruler out of his pocket, and had begun measuring me.
He looked me in the eyes, and smiled his bright-white teeth.
“Two-inches hard. Impressive,” he said.
Chas suddenly leaned in and swallowed my cock whole again, sucking it hard and flicking it with his tongue. I moaned softly, and my cock felt so hard I could sense my orgasm coming fast. I felt my balls tighten, and I blew a big load down Chas’s throat. He swallowed the whole lot, like a greedy calf sucking a cow’s teat. He sat back, wiping his mouth, and looking at my cock with a smile.
“Your cum tastes sweet. I’m not gay, so don’t get the wrong idea. Your little dick is so suckable, I couldn’t resist. It’s an amazing specimen of dick, and if you’re interested I’m prepared to give you a tryout for my troupe.”
I pulled my pants up, and stepped back, opening the cubicle in the bathroom, which thankfully had no one present to see us. Chas followed me out, digging a business card from his wallet, and handed it to me.
“Think it over, Red. You could make some good money in the Freak Show business.” He looked at his watch again and frowned. “Sorry, but I have to leave now. Call me if you’re interested in going to the next stage, it’s the only way to see if you have the stamina for it.”
I grimaced. “You mean do one of your events?”
“Yes, but a small event. So as not to overwhelm you the first time. Okay, hopefully I’ll hear from you soon.”
Chas walked out of the bathroom leaving me alone, looking at his business card. It reads: Zorko’s Curiosities, and had a phone number beneath it.
The weirdest job offer I have ever been given, and probably ever get in my life, I thought amazed. For a moment, I hovered over the bin wondering whether to throw the card away. The idea of standing there nude, and letting god knows how many people laugh at my dick made my stomach churn. Being laughed at in the gym is bad enough, or in bed when lovers see me for the first time, or even in the clubs by people who had heard about my tiny dick. But to get paid for it, I wondered? I slipped the card in my pocket, and walked out.
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*This eBook contains adults-only taboo erotica. All human characters in this story involved in any sexual behavior or acts are over eighteen. Any similarities to real people or real-life situations are purely coincidental and unintended. This eBook is 100% fiction, none of this ever happened in real life. The taboo themes of this story are fine for sexual fantasy, but only a fool would do them in real life. Do not try this at home. This disclaimer voids GW Enterprises Publishing Company against any claim that our stories have been a motivation for criminal activity. You are responsible for your actions. Thank you for reading this free sample.