I was in a funk. Having just gone through a very public and embarrassing break up, I had cut myself off from the rest of the world. Anyone looking in on my mess felt both sorrow and sympathy. Becky, my girlfriend of two years had publicly ended our relationship and left me a broken shell of a man. I knew I'd never be the same again.
Right before she walked out on me, she left me a note that said, "You are kidding yourself if you think you can do better than me. Fuck you and your baby dick. I'm glad I won't ever have to see that icky little pink tater tot again. You sicken me. You're a pansy. You're useless. You can't physically satisfy a human female. You have no penis. You might as well snip it off and call yourself Jaqueline, not that there is much there to snip off anyway. Goodbye. " Very harsh, but true. You see, I have a smaller than average penis. It measures in at 4.5 inches hard. When I'm flaccid, it disappears almost completely. Lost in my thick nest of pubic hair. Sometimes, when naked, I look like a woman between my legs. Becky would often comment that I look like an out of shape teenage girl. Comments like that, which were frequent, would often make me burn deep with embarrassment and turn my cheeks a bright red color.
I'm not too sure what I did to piss her off so much. I guess we slowly grew apart and she'd caught me flirting with other women at work. I'd never cheated but I was lying if I didn't say I'd fancied some of the ladies at the office, who I'm sure also fancied me... at the time. Unfortunately, she'd caught me being friendly and decided she was going to destroy my reputation and make me a laughing stock.
And she did.
After she was done with me, no woman ever saw me as an able bodied man ever again. My hopes for establishing relationships with other women in the office were tarnished and I would forever feel an empty void for what could have been. Becky was livid and she was out to completely destroy me. She had ammo and she wasn't afraid to use it.
I was a fool to pose for her wearing nothing but a pink tutu, but it was early on in our relationship and we were just fooling around. I remember that encounter very clearly, "It'll be fun, try in on sweetie" click, click, click, "It's just for fun, just for us. Ill delete them" she said, clearly lying.
Two years later, she used those photos against me. She had somehow managed to sneak them into one of my powerpoint presentations, hacking my computer and adding them to my slides. Imagine my embarrassment when I was hosting a presentation on fiscal responsibility before the entire board and up came naked sissy photos of myself. Needless to say, laughter engulfed the room. Some were disgusted, but most laughed at me.
Frantic, I kept clicking 'next slide', only to be met with another humiliating image, followed by another and then another. There I was up on screen, in my little pink tutu, my shy little mushroom on display, my hair in pigtails. After the fourth consecutive slide in a row, there was a short video: of me, looking crestfallen and defeated. I looked embarrassed in the video as Becky zoomed in on my shy little penis. Far from impressive, Becky urged me to 'make widdle winky grow' as I pinched and prodded my miniscule penis. To put it into context, I was fondling my flaccid little pale penis which, in the video, looked more like an overgrown nipple. There I was up on the screen, pinching my little penis using the tip of my thumb and index finger.
In my haste, I frantically tried to change the slide and end the video, anything to stop this humiliation as the laughter of my colleagues rang in my ears. It was no use, everyone looked on in hysterics. The video ended with me achieving a modest erection as Becky laughed and said, 'A feminine little stiffy for a female man. Awwww.... I bet that feels nice sweetie' I looked every little bit pathetic and I almost broke out in tears. I was humiliated and embarrassed beyond comprehension.
I was ruined.
What followed was a stern discussion with my superior, followed by a swift demotion.
With such a drastic reduction in my salary, I could no longer afford my upscale apartment or my Mercedes. I ended up losing everything and downsizing on a monumental scale. I was destroyed, financially, professionally and socially.
The ladies I'd lusted for previously were now my superiors and felt it necessary to constantly put me down, often publicly. I'd lost my enviable status as an executive and was relegated to an errand boy, someone who merely fetched coffee and bagels. I painfully realized that I was no longer seen as an object of affection. I was now just an oddity. A silly little boy. Not a man.
I'd earned the nick name, 'Prissy'. This was a name that stuck and that I resented.
Socially outcast, I decided to shut off from the rest of the world and I soon became a hermit. I found solace and comfort in the confines of my modest home. A whole year had passed before I allowed myself to venture out of my bubble, which even then I chose to implement self-imposed limits.
One day after work, Brandon, a close 'work friend' approached my tiny cubicle, with concern. "You okay Prissy?" he asked. I shuttered at the name Prissy. It became so fluid that even my friends started calling me by this name. Not out of malice, but because it was so common and constant. It dawned on me that most who called me by that name, probably didn't even know it's origins. Everyone simply knew me as 'Prissy' and I had just accepted it.
"I think you should come to the gala tonight" he announced. "We haven't seen you at any work functions for the past year! It'll do you some good" he said.
I was reluctant to be out in public with judging, mocking eyes, "I don't know Brandon. I think I have something on tonight anyway" I said in an attempt to end the conversation.
"It'll be fun" he paused, looking down at me with concern, "There's someone I'd like you to meet. I think you'll hit it off" He was setting me up on a blind date, or at least a blind introduction. The thought of dating again terrified me. "I know you have your reservations, but just come along and at least say hello. I know you live close by, it won't take up too much of your evening"
Brandon was convincing and I found myself reluctantly agreeing to attend the gala, if it was just for twenty minutes or so. Enough time to greet his friend, which, I must admit, I was not at all enthused to meet.
Every Quarter, Delayo Industries hosts a gala, recognizing the efforts of it's most seasoned financial consultants. Before the whole Prissy fiasco, I had been nominated for an award at least four times. But that was before, in my former life.
Sure enough as soon as I'd wondered through the doors and made my way across the ballroom, everyone was shocked and surprised to see me there. I could tell, it was clear as day. To my delight though, not too many people paid any attention to me.
I met Brandon's friend, who was an odd looking lady. Not at all my type. She was short, morbidly obese and had no pigmentation in her right eye. 'This was the special lady he thought would be right for me?'. I felt silly and even a little guilty for being so shallow, in his mind he probably just felt two lonely people should be together. The whole interaction made me sad and embarrassed that Brandon felt that I, a good looking guy in his early thirties, could not attract a woman of beauty.
Shame and embarrassment soon followed as I was forced to make awkward conversation with this woman, whose name I kept forgetting. Nearby I heard leers and stares. Some were even outwardly laughing at me.
After 40 minutes of awkward small talk, I decided to politely excuse myself. I was going to bail and was quick to make a speedy exit.
In my haste, I bumped into someone, causing her to spill a glass of wine all over the front of her dress. I tripped over and fell face first on the ground by her feet. Embarrassed, I looked up at the bronzed goddess that stood before me. She was wearing black stilettos and from what I could tell, red panties.
Cassandra was a tall statuesque goddess that had started at the company recently. In her early 40s, she had looks, she had confidence and was to die for. She was wearing a short tight black evening dress that clung to her toned body. Her arms were sculpted to perfection and her upper body was strong. Her pert lips, her high cheek bones, her face full of makeup and her jet black hair was enough to turn me into a stuttering blubbering moron. Instantly, I was intimidated by her.
She looked down at me, angry. "Look at what you've done, you stupid little man!"
I scurried on my hands and knees for a few minutes before I frantically leapt up apologizing over and over. "God, I'm so so sorry, I, I, I didn't see you. I wouldn't, on purpose. I'd never... I'm so so sorry Miss"
