True Stories: My Life with a Small Dick

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submitted by Karaktis

In trying to make some sense from what happened in my past I have been slowly piecing together events and situations into an overall picture. I’ve had to dig deep into memories I had locked away in denial, guilt, anger and shame but being able to discuss such sensitive personal matters has been a great help with my understanding. I hope this goes some way to explain my current situation. In the past I have resorted to both humour and bitterness when describing events but here I have tried to be as ‘objective’ and as factual as possible.

I suppose it all began when I discovered masturbation at the age of about 12 and started masturbating regularly. I was quite literally a kid with a new toy but I didn’t realise just how relatively small my penis was until a few years later at secondary school which was a boys-only establishment. Whilst comparing erections, as boys do, in the showers I realised that mine was significantly smaller than the others and I avoided the showers after that.

Added to this physical shortcoming of a small penis is my inability to maintain an erection for very long without the assistance of my own hand. I once believed that regular masturbation would help to improve the length of my penis but over the years it has only served to stretch my foreskin, which now forms a wrinkled collar around the permanently stunted shaft when it becomes erect. To put this into perspective my penis reaches barely four inches or about 9cm when fully erect, although its shaft does seem to have thickened over the years.

During my teenage years I became very conscious of having such a ‘small prick’ and felt unable to approach girls, preferring to console myself with daily masturbation assisted by literature depicting dominant women. I developed the notion from my own perspective that females were naturally dominant and wanted to be ‘worshipped’ respectfully, whilst their companionship and sexual favours were granted as privileges that had to be earned.

Having had very little experience of any contact with females apart from family members and a few casual friendships until my mid twenties I was quite unprepared for meeting my future wife (N) and the circumstances that followed. In the first instance I could hardly believe my luck that N paid any attention to me at all and when we started dating she appeared to fulfil all my hopes of what I wished for. She was tall, with a full hour-glass figure and had a strong, domineering character. In addition she enjoyed the horse riding scene and liked to dress in a manner I found particularly appealing, with her preference for wearing very high heels and a style of fashion, including her elaborate lingerie, that I would describe as ‘retro, bordering on fetish’.

The issue of sex was never really addressed during our brief engagement, in part because I deliberately avoided it and in part, presumably, because N was also seeing someone else, although I didn’t realise it at the time. My proposal of marriage was based on what I felt would be an attractive and generous (not to mention desperate) offer to N, involving me buying the house for us and agreeing to virtually any terms she required me to accept. This included her complete freedom to pursue the lifestyle she wanted and her having control over our finances. With the wisdom of hindsight I was little more than a convenient route for Nicki to escape her impoverished circumstances at the time as a nurse living in a hostel.

Our wedding night and then the honeymoon on a quiet Greek island effectively established N’s control over our marriage in practical terms. It became clear that I would not be able to ‘consummate’ the marriage nor provide my new wife with anything approaching the sexual satisfaction she rightfully expected from a husband. In fact our relationship as such never recovered from the initial physical revulsion and utter contempt N expressed towards me when she realised how severely limited my sexual ability was. Her response was to ‘punish’ me by starting an affair with the hotel owner’s son and flaunting herself in my presence with provocative choices of casual wear.

After the first few days of our honeymoon we were spending very little time together each day as N pursued her love of nude sunbathing at the most secluded beaches with her new-found companion, whilst I stayed back at the hotel all day reading my books. In the evening we went out as a couple to a local bar club where I drank excessively while watching my wife on the dance floor with her new lover. Our routine each night was that I retired early to our hotel, quite drunk, leaving my wife to return in the early hours to make full use of our ‘luxury suite’ which comprised of two rooms with a large inter-communicating door.

N’s only concession to me for physical contact with her was to return to ‘my side’ of the suite shortly after her lover had left the other side. This was only ever a brief visit however to allow me, quite literally, to taste her evening’s excitement as she sat astride my face to demonstrate her authority over me. The remains of the night would be spent in separate beds, in the separate rooms and this arrangement continued for the rest of the honeymoon.

On our return from honeymoon, the marriage had effectively broken down and we discussed separation. I managed however to persuade N to stay (or rather, allow me to stay) in the marriage by pleading and offering her, in response to her prompting, formal arrangements for her to control our finances completely. This gave her ownership of the house equity, all my savings and bank account. We also ‘agreed’ that I would seek financial assistance from my parents to enable us to move to a bigger house. Most shamefully I persuaded my parents to give us money to buy a bigger house on the pretext it would save our marriage. It was taken for granted between us that N would freely seek the satisfaction of her needs outside of our marriage and I gratefully adopted the role of a cooperative cuckolded husband.

The only concession to my own needs N granted was that she agreed to express her domination of me in the bedroom by role play, which I hoped would help me gradually improve my lack of sexual ability.

Behind closed doors N demonstrated the vicious side her nature with the use of her riding whip to encourage my obedience and make me beg for my ‘good behaviour rewards’. I admitted to her all the details of the ‘mummy’s boy’ phase I went through during my late teens when I had regularly visited my mother’s underwear drawer. For a while N strongly encouraged me to revisit those early yearnings and insisted I go out and buy myself some ‘sissy’ lingerie to wear for when I was busy ‘worshipping’ her with my tongue at her bottom.

Part of our role play involved her flair for photography, recording the highly compromising and humiliating nature of my ‘bedroom training’, the results of which she kept securely as ‘insurance’ against any future conflict. So, if you can bear to, ‘picture’ me (as N did literally with her camera) being ‘caught’ wearing frilly panties by Mummy returning home from a date and having my bottom spanked over her lap as I begged for my little treat. There was no greater reward for me at that time than hearing N’s patronising words of encouragement, then her utter contempt for me, as I licked at the lips of her vagina knowing it had recently been filled with another man’s passion. I would then be sent to bed in the other room to comfort myself with the fancy knickers my wife had been wearing on her ‘date’.

We initially maintained in public some element of normality as a couple except for N’s regular efforts at humiliating me, whether at social gatherings or just out shopping. Typically at her friends’ dinner parties N would loudly state that her husband ‘had such a small prick the only thing he could do in bed was play with it’. Bearing in mind that she was almost certainly sleeping with one or more of the other guests her behaviour had only the designed effect of inhibiting me socially. I soon declined to accompany N to any more of her friends’ parties when we were both invited, leaving her completely free to make any arrangements that suited her needs.

Eventually we were leading completely separate lives as husband and wife under the same roof, particularly when N changed jobs and was frequently away on business trips. My role was very much that of being my wife’s housekeeper and general dogs-body, often working to the schedule of chores she set out for me to follow. By that time we never went out as a couple except to ‘politically’ important family visits. When we moved to a larger house, with my parents’ generous financial assistance, it became in effect solely N’s house under the secret financial arrangements I made in return for her paying lip-service to maintaining our marriage.

Soon after moving to the larger house, which had three bedrooms, N decided to move Tom her boyfriend in as our lodger. N took the main bedroom for herself and made it clear that I no longer had any place there unless invited. Appropriately I occupied with my books the smallest bedroom and our ‘spare’ room was our lodger’s bedroom.

I soon came to see Tom as a dominant male figure to be admired and respected and in fact I actually became jealous of him for his attention, as opposed to being jealous of him for what he could do for my wife. So instead of resenting Tom I set out to impress him in any way I could, hence my feelings of pride at performing menial tasks for him such as washing his pants. Frankly, I would have licked Tom’s arse clean if he had told me to and as my relationship with N had broken down completely by that stage, he became the focus of my attention. N was virtually ignoring me but Tom responded to my submissive approach with a domineering and contemptuous way towards me, in keeping with his semi-high class background.

When Tom moved in he soon established himself as the head of the household and after a short while made no pretence of the fact that he was sleeping with N under my roof. He was quite physically uninhibited and often walked around the house stark naked and proudly well-hung. He was clearly very capable sexually, because their love-making sessions often went on for an hour or more with N becoming increasingly vocal and clearly choosing her words knowing that I would hear them. N by then was referring to me almost exclusively as that ‘little prick’, whilst Tom’s favourite reference to me was as his ‘little chap’, typically as in, “Be a good little chap and clean my shoes for me, would you?”

N had a lock fitted to her bedroom door and at night-times or on Sunday mornings, if I was in my room just next door, just hearing it click shut would be enough to start off an erection for me. Quite frankly I have never enjoyed masturbating more than I did during those few years that Tom was living with us nor felt such excitement as when I listened to him and my wife reaching an orgasm. Eventually such an absurd situation had developed that my role as a husband included bringing tea to my wife in bed with her lover on Sunday mornings enjoying a post-coital cigarette.

Looking back, I thought I had found in N the ideal solution to my little problem in a sexless marriage that also catered for my needs. Things got out of control and N used my weakness against me in ways I had never anticipated which cost me dearly. In one sense I enjoyed the humiliation as a way of dealing with my inadequacy and accepting the reality of my sort-comings, but deep down I was simply punishing myself. In fact, I believed I deserved to be punished and in many ways still do. In being deeply attracted to a woman with the qualities that appealed to me I also invited the problems that she caused me.

When the divorce finally came N advised me to go quietly, in view of all the embarrassing problems she could so easily cause me. So I took her advice and moved out of the house while she sold it, taking the proceeds and moving away. I moved back in with my parents with very little money left explaining that we both had large debts to pay off during the divorce. Then my‘wilderness years of private self-questioning and shame began.

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