Chapter Three: Winter
This is a story about my massive cock, and the tiny dicklet of this bottom I used to date.
All you subs with little nubs should donate to Nifty!
#SPH #GaySPH #SizeMatters #Phallocracy
#SmallPenisHumiliation? More like #SmallClitHumiliation!
Art and I were on the train from Victoria to Gatwick Airport for a weekend city break to Berlin. A romantic city break, mind you, as we'd become boyfriends by this point; but a kinky romantic one, given it was Berlin and, you know ... me.
I thought I'd be able to wait until we got there, but I just couldn't.
"Cage check," I told him as soon as we'd stowed our luggage on the train and sat down, nodding towards the nearest onboard toilets.
He sighed resignedly and agreed, following me meekly as I strutted towards the toilets. We squeezed in together unnoticed and I had him lock the door.
I could barely contain my excitement. I'd finally decided what to spend the OnlyFans earnings on - surprising Art with this Berlin trip and ... the cage!
We'd started experimenting with chastity a couple of months earlier. It did it for me at first: I'd wandered into a kink shop and bought their smallest one for Art. He'd been reluctant to agree at first:
"I know you don't like to see me hard, and I'm trying," he had protested, "but surely it's not all that bad if I get hard in private?"
"Come on, Art," I said softly, stroking his cheek, "you've got to practise staying soft with me, with others and alone. We've got to train that little dicklet that it has no business getting hard. Beside, if you want to cum from getting fucked, then not having any access to that little boyclit will make it even likelier."
He still seemed pretty resistant. I had a way of breaking down resistance like this. I hadn't showered in a few days and asked,
"Why don't you come here and sniff and lick my ripe pits while I stroke your hair?"
He nodded. He actually whimpers when he gets access to my funky sweat, and I just love the sensation of being worshipped - I'd probably never need to shower again with this boyo around. As I stroked his hair, I continued my crooning:
"How's this: We'll let our followers decide. I'll ask them whether you should have your little peepee locked in a cage. If they say yes, we'll lock it away and I'll get you something nice the next time the OnlyFans money comes in. And I'll let you suck my dick," I added, like this was a favour for him, as his hand had unconsciously made its way to my big cock, already semi it was rapidly growing in his slender hand to its full fat ten inches.
He'd agreed and the vote was overwhelming - four-fifths of our voters wanted to see him locked in chastity.
Sweeeeet, I thought, and the next day - after I'd got some ice cubes even colder than the coming winter and used them on his miniscule junk to make sure his dicklet shrunk down - we'd put the cage on.
I thought it was extremely hot. Here was a guy who barely had a dick as it is, and he was letting me turn it into even more of a non-dick for my amusement.
I slid the key onto a thin gold chain and put it on my neck right away. A few of my friends had already met Art, including my buddies in my halls, and I couldn't wait to show them what I'd made him do now.
Fucking that desperate little slut with my massive hard schlong and looking down at his caged little dicklet was such a power rush. This boy had never topped before - and, with his chastity cage key around my neck, he'd never be able to top even if he tried. Heck, I didn't know whether he wanks when he's away from me, but he wouldn't be able to wank like a boy either. So fucking hot.
The only thing I didn't like about that cage was it made his bulge look bigger than it had before when he was wearing a jockstrap or jeans or whatever.
Apparently, for Art, that wasn't the only trouble with the initial cage, which became apparent a week or so later:
"Please!" he had begged, already on his knees - he'd been sucking me for the last half-hour one evening, "Please! I know the guys on the internet said I should be locked up, and I've tried not to complain, but it's so sore."
"What's sore about it?" I asked, confused. I'd certainly never allow a chastity cage near my junk, if one would ever fit, so I had no idea what he was talking about.
"When I get hard, it really hurts," he whimpered again.
I had him naked (except for the cage) in my room, so I got up close to his caged little dicklet for a closer look. It was a 3" cage I'd bought, and even hard his dick didn't quite reach the sides - but the top of his 3.2" little hard-on was straining against the end of the devious denial device.
So, I decided to crowdsource a solution and started chatting to our fans on the internet. Turns out, a lot of guys get a 3" cage for a sub with a 3" softie to stop him getting hard. But while my bottom boy's little erections were barely three inches - his softie is more like 1.5", and you can't get those off-the-shelf. So someone hit me up with a link for a place with custom chastity cages.
I put in his flaccid length and girth, and the circumference of around his balls where the lock ring would go, and sent off the order.
Another week went by and I got this inadvertently hilarious reply:
"Dear Mathias Gold,
I just wanted to check with you the measurements you submitted in your order and give you an opportunity to change them - as once we craft the cage we are no longer able to offer a refund.
You entered 3.7cm long and 4cm girth. Are you sure this isn't meant to be inches? We do not recommend cages smaller than the client's flaccid size, for both comfort and function."
I was laughing all day thinking about this email, and couldn't wait to show it to Art in person. He was pretty bashful about it, but not as bashful as the email I later got from them.
After some customary ball flicking to get his dicklet shrunk down to softness, I had him pose with our ruler and a flexible tape measure, and sent this off to the chastity cage website to assure them no mistake had been made - and this was their response:
"Dear Mathias Gold,
Thank you for confirming. We have been in business for 25 years, and this is the smallest chastity device on record we have been asked to make. Please allow 28 days for manufacture and another 14 days for postage and delivery."
Man, I'm gonna print that email and have it framed and give it to Art for his birthday. My dick is in the biggest 0.1% of the planet; and of all the chastity subs-to-be on the internet who've ordered a cage from this place, I've found the one with THE smallest weiner - hahahahaha.
While we waited for the new one to arrive, I made sure he wore the oversized cage most of the time - but allowed him supervised periods of respite with his dicklet free.
Well, it took a month and a half, but the new cage finally arrived and just in time for our Berlin trip. I had even gone to a different part of the city beforehand to have a new padlock engraved: "Mathias' Bitch" on one side and "Tiny Dicklet" on the other. I'd watched Art put it on this morning, and it gave me such a massive boner; and now I urgently needed to see it again - right here in the train toilets.
"How is it? Is it more comfortable?"
He nodded, "So far, yeah."
"Fuck, you're such a good boy. I love that you lock away your little boyclit for me," I whispered. Positive reinforcement. "I need your hole."
He turned around in the clean but narrow cubicle, and I drooled a string of spit down onto where my massive cock met his smooth pliant hole, covering his mouth with one hand to minimise noise and using my other to guide my huge hard-on to where it belongs - deep in his pussy. While inside him, I turned us around again so he was facing the mirror. I watched myself - the top dog - ravaging his insides, I saw his eyes squint at the pain of me forcefully entering him (even after six months, my ten-incher is a lot to take), and I saw the tiny metal cage glinting in the light - highlighting his effective dicklessness.
It was quite a fast train, so I needed to make this quick - I hammered away at his boypussy, his only sex organ as far as I was concerned. My eyes flicked from his eyes to the cage to his eyes again in the mirror and the whole thing was so hot I came in just a couple of minutes - breeding my little bitch boy, and enjoying the tight squeezes I'd taught him to do with his hole to make my cock feel just right.
We pulled up our trousers and made our way back to our seats, sitting in contented silence until we got to the airport.
When we got Gatwick, Art finally raised something I'd been thinking about in the run up to our weekend holiday.
"Umm, Matt, how am I gonna get through security with this thing on?"
"I was thinking you just go through, and let metal detectors pick up on your chastity cage," I lied, "then you just explain that your boyfriend doesn't let you use your dick to the security guard, but it's not exactly a security risk."
In truth I had considered making him do this. It would be pretty fucking funny, and I'd love to look the security guard right in the face as he learns that I have the power to make bottoms give up their dick for me. But I wanted the trip to be straightforward, so would give in easily if Art begged hard enough, which he did,
"Oh no, please. It's bad enough you expose me to all those kinky people online, but you can't make me do that to some random - probably straight - security guard! Please!"
"Okay, okay," I acquiesced, wondering if we should do it on the way back just for the lols.
We went to the airport toilets and snuck into a cubicle together. He removed the cage and I had him put it in his rucksack - no way I was gonna let some airport security person see it in my baggage - and I resolved not to take my eye off him until we got the cage back on him.
By the time we were through security and had grabbed some overpriced mediocre drinks (beer for me, G&T for Art), we were in a hurry to board and I still hadn't got his tiny weiner back in its cage. It made me angry to think he might be using this time to get secret little erections.
After take-off, when the seatbelt sign was unilluminated, the booze hit Art's little bladder and he told me he was going to the loo. I grabbed his wrist - not letting him get up.
"Oh no you don't," I hissed, "not without me. I don't want you touching your little boyclit all alone in there."
I took his rucksack from under the seat without asking and fished around until I found the world's tiniest custom chastity cage we'd ordered just for him. And, even though toilet twosomes are riskier in the air than on the ground, the two of us made our way to the loos and waited until we felt sure none of the air cabin crew (not even the twinky bottomy one I'd be eyeing up since boarding) were watching, and in we went.
This toilet was even more cramped than the one on the train.
"Turn around," I snapped quietly. "Sit down to pee, like a girl."
He did and, surely enough, the tiny weiner was hard as rock. He had to move his hips way back to have his little hard-on facing the bowl.
My trouser snake chubbed up from an eight-inch semi to near its full ten inches knowing that I'd made this bottom sit down to pee like a woman does. He dicklet, meanwhile, had softened a bit from peeing - but I wanted to get this cage back on him ASAP. A long period of continuous chastity is what's needed to shrink a bottom's dicklet and make him lose the ability to get erections - that's what some guys online had advised, and that's what I was gonna do to him.
Once he was done peeing, I let him stand up, then put my hand over his mouth for the second time that day and began flicking his balls. They're so tiny, a little smaller than a marble, and I was staring so intently in his slightly scared eyes, that I missed a few times; but it was hot to feel his whimpers against my palm on the times I did hit, and eventually I looked down and saw he'd shrunk back to his rightful one-and-a-half-inch softie.
Releasing my hand from his face, I had him fit the ring around his dicklet and little nutsack, then shimmy the cage over that little peepee. I took the engraved padlock from my pocket and decided I wanted to do this bit myself.
"No more little erections, okay?" I whispered, clicking the padlock into place with one hand and fingering the key on the chain around my neck. "I've got all the erections we'll ever need right here." And I grabbed my massive dick and decided I was fucking horny and just had to join the mile high club.
The toilets here were so cramped and the mirror so tiny, that I annoyingly couldn't see the cage; but his hole was slicked up from me breeding him on the train earlier, and no spit was needed for me to mount him roughly - grabbing him by the hair - and fucking him to let him know who was boss. The tight warmth felt awesome on my massive shaft, and I could practically hear the cumshots churning ready to fire in my big balls, getting ready to breed him again. What set me over the edge was knowing that these sensations were all mine - my little cockslut Art would never know tight warmth on his dicklet, and he'd given up ever cumming like a boy, and all because I told him to.
I moaned guttrally and released another round of cum volleys into my bitch's hole. We didn't have much time to enjoy the post-orgasmic glow, given we were in the air in one of the few toilets, and we snuck out back to our seats.
That twinky air steward started acting weird as we neared our destination. He was giving me looks that showed he fancied me (which, being hot, I'm pretty used to); but there was a knowing look in his glances too; he also made his way to outside the toilet doors whenever he wasn't on snack duty.
I picked up on the signals and thought fuck it - if I've joined the mile high club, I might as well make it two bottoms in one flight. I strode up to the toilets and, sure enough, the steward looked at me for permission to follow.
Once the two of us were squeezed in, he gave me a pretty average blowjob. Most guys can't take all my size on the first go, and he was no exception - and we had to keep quiet, so I couldn't give him the savage throatfuck I might otherwise have done. In the end, I had to help him out, wanking myself two-handedly while he sucked on my big plum-sized head. He was pretty, albeit with over-plucked eyebrows, but in the end I got bored and fantasised about Art sitting in his seat - knowing I was being a fucking stud here in the toilets fucking with a trolley dolly - probably jealous that not only is his dicklet out-of-use, but his hole wasn't getting used either. That was enough for me to paint the steward's face with another one of my big loads.
As he carefully wiped it off looking in the tiny mirror, he asked in a Polish accent, "Your cock is amazing." (Don't I know it!) "Can I have your number?"
"Nah, I've got a boyfriend," I said, seeing the disappointed look in his face as I unlocked the toilet door and went back to sit next to Art, who was in a huff for the rest of the flight.
Once we were checked into the Airbnb in Charlottenburg, we started unpacking our things and Art began blubbering and crying.
"What's wrong, baby?" I asked him, assuming it would be about me fucking the face of that air steward early (which was weird, as he knows I need to fuck around; and, when I give permission, I let him get dick elsewhere too).
But it wasn't that.
"I'm just so fucking horny!!!" he complained. "I know you don't want me getting hard - around you or at all. And I never touched my dicklet around you since the first day we met. But you're hot, and I'm horny, and I used to wank off when we were apart or in the toilets after you were done with me - sometimes twice a day!" (Through the desperation in his voice, the way he said twice a day sounded like it was meant to be a brag - hahaha, I'd go crazy if I didn't cum more than that.)
"And, and, and," he blubbed, "now I haven't cum in two months, I'm trying to focus on my bum"
"Your pussy," I corrected him.
"My pussy," he conceded, "to cum, but it isn't working and I think I'm gonna go mad. So can I please, please, PLEASE go into the bathroom without the cage on and have a quick wank. You don't have to see. I'll be quiet. And you can put the cage right back on me afterwards to stop me getting hard again, I promise."
I mulled this over. I'm not an unreasonable dom. But it just didn't work for me.
"I'm glad you're willing to give up your erections for me, especially when we're together. But I don't think you should cumming like a boy at all, including with wanking. Here, let's go to Schöneberg together and get you a vibrator or something - like a girl has."
So, we finished unpacking our stuff and jumped on the U-Bahn. We made our way to the sex toy section of a fetish store, and I produced another one of my little shows:
"So what about this one?" I'd ask loudly, picking up a vibrating butt plug. "Do you think this toy would feel good in your boypussy?"
We make a cute couple, me especially; and my audible pointed questions got us even more looks than we were already getting - I wanted everyone to know that this wasn't some dom sugar daddy and twinky sugar baby situation. Quite the opposite. This fully grown man was my bitch.
After we'd picked out a few things, I paid (I ain't no sugar baby), and we headed back to the place we were staying and I set about putting the first of my two wicked schemes of the day into action.
The first thing I decided to try on him was the vibrating butt plug. Pretty modestly sized (I don't want a toy stretching my bottom out - I barely want him using toys as it is, when I've got the best dick around), the vibration felt fucking intense just on my finger after I'd slipped it into his hole and switched it on. I'm not interested in having things in me, so I can't imagine what it would feel like having that thing shaking one's guts from the inside like that.
"How's that? Feel good?" I asked.
"It's amazing," Art said, panting.
Huh, it was kinda hot to watch actually. Maybe I could get into these toys after all.
Next up, I took out a small vibrator. Not to go inside him, you see; as I'd also bought some bondage tape. I wound the tape around the little vibrator and Art's even tinier cock cage and switched that on too.
"Does that vibrator feel good against your clitty?" I asked him.
His eyes were wide with gratitude.
"Even girls get to touch their clitty sometimes. They just don't wank or get hard-ons like boys, okay?"
He nodded.
Next up, I used the bondage tape to bind my little bitch naked to a radiator (switched off, of course - safety first).
We'd not undertaken a whole lot of bondage play. Normally I can just use my big dick to get my way or pin someone down. But this was all going to plan.
I took his phone, connected it to the Airbnb's Wi-Fi, brought it out of reach of him and rested it on a pile of books so it was facing him and FaceTimed myself. I answered the call but put my phone back in my trousers.
Then I improvised a little - I found a pile of pens on the flat's desk, including a Sharpie. I went over and wrote `Little clit' with an arrow on Art's abdomen, pointing to the cage, and pocketed the marker pen - for an idea I had for later.
Fuck, this was making me horny again.
"Okay," I told him. "I'm going out for a couple of hours. Those vibrators up your pussy and near your clit should make you cum before I'm back. If not, I promise I'll do something to make you cum like a girl before the end of the day. If I need you, I'll come on the FaceTime call. Seeya!"
The next three hours were sexy. I had hoped to go to the Tiergarten and show off my big dick in the naked sunbathing area or to its cruising area, but the freezing Berlin winter meant this was a nonstarter.
So instead I spent the hours on the Romeo app, finding tourists and locals to fuck.
I'd check the FaceTime call on the commute between shags. Sometimes covering my camera with my thumb, so Art wouldn't know I was looking at him; other times, showing my face and flashing him a cheeky smile.
The gratitude and pleasure on his face when I'd left him changed over the three hours though, to one of anguish and exquisite torture. I could tell right away that as this hadn't made him cum after an hour - it probably wouldn't at all. Maybe I hadn't set the vibrators to the right intensity - how would I know?! And, being tied to the radiator, Art had no way of changing them himself.
I got sucked off by two married Swedish daddies in their hotel (I wonder if they're always both bottoms, or just when they saw my dick); fucked a hipster from Bonn in his flat in Kreuzberg and a British expat twink in his place not far from the Airbnb.
Of course, I showed every single one of them the FaceTime call - and filmed the double blowjob and my two fucks, so Art could see.
The daddies found the set-up a bit weird; but the hipster and the expat were both keen. The hipster thought it was a cruel but quite funny and very hot that I'd locked Art's already tiny three inches into its one-and-a-half inch softness with the cage (I'd told him the exact measurements, making sure Art could hear on the other end of the line). The British expat was pretty unhung too - maybe four-and-a-half inches. He was surprised to hear Art was even smaller, and said how lucky Art was to have found a guy packing ten inches like me. I made Art say hello to him over the call after I'd fucked him.
"PLEASE, please come back and switch them off," Art was panting, "it's too much."
"Now now," I told him, "be nice and say hello." I repeated. "I'll be home soon."
"Hell-- Hello!," Art managed.
I decided not to be too unkind, and that the British twink would be my last hook-up for the afternoon.
I'd made Art watch me fuck these four guys' mouths and holes for several reasons: one - I didn't want him getting to friendly or reliant on these toys, and wanted him to know how in-demand my cock was; two - I think it's good for bottoms to know that their tops are virile men and we need to spread our seed far and wide; and three - I genuinely hoped he'd find it hot, and it would help him cum through the vibrators like a girl.
I made my way back to the flat, switched off the toys, and untied Art. He was sobbing a little.
"Did you cum?" I asked, pointing at a puddle beneath his caged dicklet.
"No," he heaved, "just precum, I think. My balls! My balls are so sore!"
"I'd hardly call them balls," I mocked. Prodding at them - they had actually turned bluer than normal, and - while they were still tiny - they'd swollen from slightly smaller than marbles to, well, slightly larger than marbles. I thought it was hilarious that even with two months worth of semen in them they were so much smaller than my low-hanging fist-sized sack after a horny day where I might have cum a dozen times. He winced at my prodding.
"Well, lick up that mess and let's grab a bite to eat before the club tonight."
Every movement, every item of clothing, made Art's abdomen ache for the next hour or so - the cage pressing his little sack up against his jockstrap. He wouldn't stop whining about it. I'd (very rarely) had blue balls myself, and so I know how painful it can be.
When he begged, "Please! It didn't work! Just let me have the quickest of wanks in the bathroom? You never have to know, just let me have the key!"
"NO!" I shouted, getting actually pissed off now. "I already told you. I'll find something else to make you cum like a girl, but if you keep whining I'll tie you up with those vibrators overnight `til your tiny balls explode from frustration."
That shut him up.
By midnight, we were in a sex club with a thumping techno background, and I was ready to put my second plan into fruition.
Normally I love a bit of dancing, but I was going to be pimping out my little bottom slut Art for the next few hours.
I found a sofa in a busy thoroughfare, and sat on the back of it. I had Art sit on the cushions between my legs, us both facing the same direction. My massive cock stretched from my groin, past his head, into his field of vision. I made him raise and spread his legs, caged dicklet and puckered hole ready for all to see.
It did not take long at all for us to start getting the attention I expected.
I shooed away the genuinely ugly guys, but anyone of average looks or better who came over I asked the same thing.
"Do you want to fuck my bitch?" I would ask.
With my mighty cock pointing out for all the world to see, and Art cowering beneath me with his tiny locked nub, it was obviously who was who and what I was asking.
Almost all of them said yes, and for every single one, I handed him the Sharpie and said
"You have to write on him what you think of his dick."
And they all did.
I think I made him take eleven loads all in all. Most guys were content to follow instructions, and write something about his cock on his thighs or abdomen and then fuck him `til they came. About four of them, though, the more vers or bottomy ones wanted to suck me off while they fucked him - and one quite hot top I even let kiss me while he fucked Art beneath us. Their dick sizes ranged from five to eight inches - all bigger than Art at his hardest, but none anywhere near my size - and some of them smaller hard than I am soft. I felt like a fucking god again. But even though a couple of the guys who blew me as they fucked my boyfriend were pretty good, I didn't cum. No, I wanted to save this load for Art later.
So, at 7am, we stumbled out of the club and headed back to the flat. Art was staggering at the six hours of relentless pounding I'd made him take, and blearily swaying for horniness and fatigue.
I lay him down on the bed and started kissing him, telling him how proud he'd made me that night.
Even though I was super horny, I was pretty tired too, and genuinely was pleased with him - so rather than a hard fuck, I made love to him in the early morning.
After getting his legs around my waist, and my dick in my favourite boypussy, I whispered in my lover's ear
"You will cum like a girl for me. Do you know why?"
"Why?" he whispered, his toes curling and his knees turning to jelly from the amazing dicking my huge cock was giving him.
"Because you can't cum like a boy," I whispered, moving away from our kiss, and shifting from us being on our sides, to me on top, and him on his back.
I looked down at where his body had been graffitied by the guys in the club, reading what they'd written about his dicklet "Because you don't have a cock. You have a LITTLE CLIT, a PEEPEE, a MAGGOT, a LIL NUBBIN, a POLLITA"
I looked him in the eye
"Everyone knows it. Everyone in that club. Everyone in the world, knows you have a SHRIMP DICK, a MIKROPENIS, a BABY DICK, a DINKY WINKY"
This was making me so fucking horny, and I hoped it was making him horny too. Certainly his eyes looked at mine with real intensity as my ten inches slid slickly up and out of his well bred hole
"You can't cum like a boy with a PISSWORM, KLEINERSCHWANZ, a BOYCLIT."
I was getting real close by now. Normally I'd want to breed Art, but I needed to drive this point home. I pulled out my massive cock and stroked it - just one-handed this time - and brought my other hand to his wet hole, shoving two fingers inside to expertly stroke his p-spot.
I pointed my dick at his chastity cage and said "Look!" He looked at the incredible contrast of my rock hard ten-incher, being stroked, pointed at his own pitiful softie, locked away in its cage at my behest, and I started cumming. The six hours at the club had been incredibly hot for me, so I had built up another killer load. Spray after spray covered the entire cage `til it was hidden from sight, as well as a lot of his torso, some of the cum leaking down the sides of his dicklet to where I was fingering him.
And then - it happened!!!
His moaning from my fingers became even more intense, and I saw that little caged nubbin jerking by itself and three or four determined little streams of fluid came pumping out of his locked cocklet.
I couldn't believe that my sixth load of the day was about ten times bigger than his first load in two months, but it was incredibly hot - and he'd finally, finally cum like a girl.
"You did it! You did it baby girl."
I ran my hand through my cum and his, wiping it on the side of his face as I pulled him in for a kiss. I didn't let him clean it off before bed, as I pulled him in towards me and thought about how lucky I was.
My massive dick deserves pleasure, public attention and to look as huge as it is - and my submissive, obedient, unhung little slut gives me everything I deserve. I cuddled him in close, closing my eyes and picturing my huge hard cock next to his caged little dicklet - wondering whether any arrangement could possibly be better than this.
If any of you tiny-dicked little sluts, or hung studs like me, wanna get in touch and compare notes my email is hungtwinkstud@gmail.com
Did you know that little Art's tried his hand at some stories too?
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/boyclit/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/my-six-twink-top-lodgers
Lemme know what you think.