I savor the exquisite power I hold over him. His desperation is intoxicating, a never-ending well of humiliation for me to revel in. His name is Ethan, and he’s a handsome enough man, with chiseled features and piercing brown eyes. But it’s irrelevant. The only thing that matters is the insult of his pitiful manhood.
We met at a mutual acquaintance’s party, where he shamelessly bragged about his conquests, thrilled to show off his tiny pinky pecker as proof of his virility. I couldn’t help but smirk, knowing what a lie that was. He’s convinced himself that size doesn’t matter, that his small cock is actually an asset. But he’s wrong. Dead wrong.
The evening was bruised by his boasts, each one a slap in the face, punctuating the unspoken truth. When he stumbled back to my apartment, drunk and bold, I saw my chance. I led him to the bedroom, a seductive sway in my hips, my raven hair cascading down my back. My big, blue eyes sparkled with mischief as I disrobed, revealing my curves in all their glory.
Ethan’s eyes widened, his gaze devouring me like a starving man. But I was just teasing him, dangling the carrot on a stick, never quite letting him reach it. I took my time, bathing in the heat of his desire, feeling the wetness seep from his groin as he fumbled with his belt.
“Wait,” I purred, snatching his hand away. “Let’s talk about something first.”
His face paled, a sickly sheen of sweat breaking out on his brow. He knew where this was going, and his small dick twitched in anticipation.
“You… you can’t really expect…” he stammered, but I cut him off.
“Oh, I fully expect,” I said with a cruel smile. “I expect to see that pathetic excuse for a cock of yours. You think you’re man enough for me? Prove it.”
Ethan’s eyes darted to the floor, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He reached down, hand trembling as he pulled out his member. It was flaccid, shriveled and insignificant, a mere nub barely an inch long. I let out a low, mocking laugh, the sound echoing off the walls.
“Fucking pathetic,” I spat, disgust curling my lip. “You really think I’d waste my time with something like that?”
He cowered, shame written all over his face as he whined, “But I love you, Rhea! I’ll do anything to make you happy!”
I laughed again, the sound dripping with venom. “Anything? Really? Because right now, you look like a dog with its tail between its legs. You’re a joke, Ethan. And there’s no way I’m going to let you touch me with that tiny, useless thing.”
I turned my back on him, letting him witness my blatant disregard for his pitiful ego. The sound of his defeated sobs was music to my ears, a symphony of humiliation that would forever cement his place beneath me.
As I slipped into a silk robe, the cool fabric a balm against my skin, I glanced over my shoulder at the broken man slumped on the bed. A wicked grin spread across my face, and I purred, “You can stay in the corner, Ethan. Just remember, no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be big enough for me.”
Rhea Stephens
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https://thesincenter.com/rhea