Grow or Show?

Humiliation, in its purest form, is about our insecurities. It's about the things we are unsure of, the things we wish we could control but know we can't. It's about whether or not people know what we really are, what we really like. What we're really doing.

There's a joy to humiliation. And I don't think it has to do with feeling shame. I think it has to do with knowing that we don't feel shame about something. That it doesn't really bother us, not deep down. That we like there being this little secret, this taboo thing about ourselves. We're proud of it. And so, when someone humiliates us, when they make us feel bad about it, that's what we enjoy. We enjoy that it's not something we feel bad about.

Then again, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe we are ashamed, and that's why we want aftercare.

Whatever the case...

Grow or Show?

Is that it? Really?

No, that can't be it. Rub it some more. Pull. Go ahead. I know you like playing with that little thing between your legs. The thing that makes you think you can call yourself a man. Play with it. We both know you've had plenty of practice. Lots of time to yourself, lots of time spent trying to find the pleasure in your own body that you've never been able to provide for anyone else. It would be nice if someone managed to orgasm with that tiny little thing, wouldn't it?

So play with it. Make it hard. Make it grow. Is that all you can do? Come on, little man. Make it bigger. Make it big enough to fit a whole hand around. Isn't that the way you jerk off? Real men use their whole hands. They move up and down the shaft. I guess you've never been able to do that. You just cover the whole thing with your dainty little hand, don't you?

They say a man can get a woman pregnant with only one inch. Is that true? Do you think yours is that long? Do you lay awake at night, desperately searching your crotch for the cruel joke the world played on your body, making you born a man with that tiny little nothing you call a cock? When you lay there, when you hate that you were born male, but with a little boy clit so small that no one would notice it, do you wish you were big enough to get a woman pregnant? Do you tell yourself that you are?

They say the average length of a penis is six inches long. Do you sometimes pretend that your pinky is six inches long, so that you feel just a tiny bit below average?

Actually, that brings up another question. Do you masturbate with your whole hand, or do you just use two fingers? Because my hands are smaller than yours, and your cock still gets lost when I try to grab it.

Most of the time, when a baby gets born with a tiny little penis, they cut it off. They let the baby be raised as a woman. Do you know why? It's because being a mannish woman is better than being a girly boy. It's better to just let the baby develop as a woman. She might end up unattractive, she might end up confused. But at least she won't end up with a tiny little boy clit, with a tiny flap of useless flesh between her legs.

Don't stop playing now, little sissy. You keep rubbing, keep jerking. Keep pulling on it. Maybe it'll get bigger. Probably not. But maybe. God, it's so small. How do you live with yourself?

And how did you get past the doctors? How did that little thing in your hand manage to get by? Maybe it was as big then as it is now. I suppose, on the body of a baby, that would look big. A tiny little infant, a newborn, with that thing between its legs might even look impressive. I bet your parents thought you'd be well endowed. Seeing how big you were as a baby, they probably thought it would get bigger with age. They probably thought that it would stay the same ratio, and you'd be huge.

Maybe they thought you'd be a porn star. If it had grown with the rest of you, maybe you could have been. That would've made them so proud, don't you think? To know that their son was so big, that he could get work just by being there. That would have been a good thing for them. They could have known that their son would at least be able to please a woman. That he could make a living with that huge cock of his.

What a disappointment you must have been. How bad must it have been to them, realizing that what was once a big cock would stay the same size as the rest of you grew? I wonder if they cried when they realized how tiny you ended up being. Does it bother you to disappoint them?

I bet they curse their decision. If they'd known any better, if they'd been able to predict that it wouldn't grow, maybe they could have had a daughter. Maybe, if you'd been raised knowing you weren't a real man, you would have made more out of yourself. Maybe you would've lived a life to make them proud.

Oh well. Too late now.

I didn't tell you to stop rubbing. There should be plenty of blood going to your brain; not like it takes all that much to get your little nub hard. So pay attention. Keep your hand going on that pathetic little thing. Make it hard. Maybe you can make it happy. Please one cock. It's a start.

For what it's worth, I think you should've been a girl. And I know that you think it too. I know that you know that you should've been a girl. You should've been able to wear dresses, to date boys. You should have used those lips to suck cock, so the real men would like you. So they would respect you. Not like now. Not like how they look at you when you walk down the street.

They know.

I know you've been wondering. Every time you see someone look at you and smile, every time they laugh into one hand; I know you wonder. Do they know that you're such a tiny little thing, that you're dick is so puny that no woman would ever want you?

Of course they do. Of course they know. How could they not know? That glance downward, the shame in your eyes. They know that your boy clit isn't big enough to be called a penis. They know you're not a real man.

And, just so you know, they know that you're wearing panties. They know that underneath that masculine clothing, you're wearing nice frilly panties. They know you like that hot pink that makes you feel all slutty. The soft satin on your skin, the lace on the edge that tickles when you move. The strap that slides in between your little ass cheeks, so you can feel it wiggle every time you bend over. You like that part, don't you? Love being reminded that you're a little sissy girl.

You think no one knows. But they do. They all know. They can tell just by looking at you.

That's why they give you those smiles. That's why they laugh. They know that you have a tiny little pin-prick. They know that your boy clit isn't even long enough to stay inside a woman. They know that the only way you could ever get someone pregnant is by accident. Or with medical help.

So little. They know that it's barely a hint of a cock, that it's only a cock because it has the same shape as a real, life-sized one.

I bet you're getting close now, aren't you? You're getting ready to splash some of your disgusting little cum out of that tiny little hint of a penis. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. But don't stop. I didn't tell you to stop, you pathetic sissy.

Some men are growers; they start small, then they get bigger as they get hard. Some men are showers. They're bigger when they're soft, then only grow a tiny little bit. Both ways, they end up around six inches. That's the length of an American dollar bill. Did you know that? No, sissy. The long side, not the short side. Don't get so excited about being close to average.

Showers and growers. You're not either one, are you? Or maybe you are. Maybe you're a shower. It's not that much smaller when it's soft, is it? So you show as big soft as you are hard.

I suppose you'd have to, wouldn't you? Any smaller, and you'd be invisible. Any smaller, and you would be a girl, not just a sissy slut.

It's pathetic, when you think about it. Pathetic to think of you as a man. But that's okay. You don't think of yourself as a man, do you? Not really. Not deep in your heart of hearts. You know that you were never really a man. You know that you never had the right to wear masculine underwear. You know that panties, silk and satin, were what you needed. Thongs, panties, boy shorts. Those make sense. Boxers and briefs; those are things men wear.

And you're not a man. A man, a real man, has a penis. A real penis, a cock worthy of the name. Not like you. No like that thing. Not like your boy clit.

Go on now. Cum. Make yourself shoot out of that little thing. Cum on the floor, cum on my boots. Cum wherever you want, wherever you can. Cum.

Then, if you're really lucky, I'll let you lick it up.

Sissy.