SPH Obsessed!

by Small Penis


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This story contains adult sexual content and should not be read by those under 18, or considered minors in their country or locale. If you are under 18: CLICK HERE

These stories are the artistic expression of the authors who wrote them. The Small Dick Club strongly believes in freedom of speech, and the right of artists to be heard, especially if what they say pushes the boundaries of what is acceptable in society. If you think you won’t like the content of this post, then don’t read it. It’s that simple. The Small Dick Club wishes to advise readers that any similarities in these stories to actual or real people or events is purely coincidental and unintended. That any story marked as a ‘true story’ shouldn’t be taken literally, as we have no way to verify if stories submitted to us are true. The Small Dick Club takes no responsibility for the imaginations and literary creations of authors who post their stories here.
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By Anon.

I didn’t plan on it, but my girlfriend, Karen, met my mother a few weeks ago. Nothing is worse than being forced to look at photos from your childhood with your girlfriend and your mother.

It was torture, and after the evening was over, Karen’s attitude toward me had turned. In fact, I didn’t hear from her again. I know why, it was the goddamned nude pictures of me. Hell, I was only seven at the time, but there I was stark naked.

I can remember my mother’s reaction, “Oh my Danny! I almost forgot how small you were!” My heart sank as I realised that I had slammed into a brick wall. Here was my girlfriend of only 2 weeks, looking at very unflattering pictures of me. “Yep, Danny was a late bloomer. So cute, a very little shmackel, just like his father.” They both laughed at my expense. I was speechless, I couldn’t believe my mother had actually said that in front of my girlfriend. I felt so belittled.

After the evening was over, I drove Karen home, kissed her goodnight and saw her off. That was the last I had heard of her. Of course, I had tried ringing her all week but had had no luck.

I eventually cornered her in between classes and asked her why she hadn’t been returning my calls, “Look Danny, I’m sorry but I just don’t think we’re compatible. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I couldn’t believe it. As she left me standing there with my jaw hanging open, I began to wonder if it was the baby photos of me that helped her reach that decision. I began to obsess about her, frequently visiting her facebook page and jerking off to the pictures of her. As I jerked it, I wondered what it would’ve been like to have actually had her. I wept as I came into my gym sock.

What I didn’t know was that Karen was having a good time, telling all her friends about my ‘little shmackel’ as my mother had so eloquently put it. Apparently, she had told a small circle of friends and the rumours spread from there.

The day I discovered something wasn’t right, was the day I lost my manhood. I remember it vividly. I was in the cafeteria and as I passed the cheerleader squad, they all began to whisper, snicker and giggle amongst themselves. In fact, they were also pointing at me. I had no idea what was so hysterical, so I decided to approach them and ask. Before I could say anything, one of them said, “How’s your little shmackel?” Everyone laughed. They could barley contain themselves. I was humiliated, my face turned three shades of red, “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Although, it only happened in a matter of seconds, it felt at though time stood still. I made a prompt exit with my tail between my legs. Later that day I decided to approach Karen about the whole situation.

“I cant believe you told everyone that I had a little dick!” I said.

“umm, I don’t know what you’re on about,” she said, obviously lying.

“I was seven years old! That’s not me Karen! You should have just given me a chance! Do you have any idea what you have done to me? To my reputation!?” I was very upset at that point.

“Get over yourself Danny. I didn’t tell the cheerleader squad about your baby dick, don’t put the blame on me,” she was calm, cool and collected.

“Well, someone told them!” I shouted at her.

“Yeah, I admit, I told some friends about it. I didn’t think they would tell anyone else. It was all just abit of silly fun,” she said.

“Silly fun?? They’re all calling me little shmackel!”

“No offence, but my brother is seven and his ‘shmackel’ is probably at least four times bigger. You can say that you were a late bloomer, but I’ve never noticed any kind of bulge in your pants,” it was clear to me then, that she wanted to hurt me. She smiled upon finishing.

Hurt, I walked away, wondering what on earth would possess her to go out of her way to publicly humiliate me like that. It didn’t make any sense to me.

Later that night, as I sat at my computer, jerking to her facebook page, I realised that the recent events of the day made me horny, very horny. As I jerked it to her image, I began to imagine her laughing about my penis and telling all her friends that I was hung like a peanut. It was the quickest and most intense ‘jerk-off’ session I had ever had. Thus, my obsession with the small penis humiliation fetish and with her grew.

Each evening I would jerk off to the recent events of the day. More than likely, someone would be giggling at me or would be whispering and pointing. It was usually a group of girls. I would imagine stripping down and exposing myself to all of them, “God! That would be hot! I wonder what they would do? They would laugh! Ahh, they would, mpf! Argh!”

As the weeks passed, people soon became tired of the joke and eventually stopped teasing me. Despite the fact that I became a social outcast, I still wanted it to continue. I wanted to fuel the fire.

I noticed that many of my former friends from facebook, had now blocked me and I could no longer see their pages. Karen was the first to block me. This stung, moreso because she was my primary source of humiliation.

I decided to make one final hooragh! To humiliate myself once and for all.

At the end of semester, there was always a big party at Henry Deehan’s house. This year however, I wasn’t invited…. go figure. Regardless, I decided to go and see what would happen.

At first, Henry was surprised to see me, but he eventually dismissed the fact. Which was good because I really wanted to find Karen and finish this once and for all.

My plan was to corner her, drop my pants and show her the goods. I made sure that I was extra small that night. I put a frozen bag of peas down my pants, that would most certainly shrink me good. Hell, my reputation was over, I might as well destroy it with a bang!

And there she was, in the kitchen with a small group of her friends. This was my chance, it was now or never. I casually walked up to them.

They all noticed me coming and turned to face me. My heart was beating so fast, my hands were shaking, I was breathing so heavily. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity.

Eventually Karen said, “Yeah?”

This was my moment. I undid my top button, unzipped my pants and pulled them down.

No laughter. Everyone gasped. Not quite the reaction I was hoping for. In fact, everyone looked disgusted, mortified.

“You need to see a shrink! You got serious mental problems.” Karen said. With that, they all turned away ignoring me, continuing on with their conversation.

I turned to look behind me, everyone was in awe, shocked that I would actually do such a thing. No one laughed, everyone actually looked sorry for me. Someone in the background shouted out, “Sick fuck!” someone else shouted, “Fucking looser!”

That’s when Henry came up to me and said, “I think you should leave Danny.”

Embarrassed, I pulled my pants up and slowly walked out of there. Everyone stared as I slowly made my way through the crowd.

I turned to face the party, “So no one found my shmackel funny?” I asked.

Silence.

Later that night, I cried. Its not the way I wanted it to happen. Yes, I did humiliate myself, but I pictured it differently in my mind. I pictured everyone pointing and laughing, I pictured everyone making small penis jokes.

Instead, I got cold crystal stares.

My fantasy took over. Next time, I’ll keep it to myself.

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