Never the Same Again

I couldn't believe my eyes. There was Tanner, in full-frontal nudity, on a stage in front of a hundred strange gay men. There was a collective uproar when La Tigresa finally cut his boxer briefs all the way off, followed quickly by a lull -- it was suddenly very clear why Tanner had been wearing special bulge-lifting underwear. I was close enough to the stage by then to see his package clearly, but glancing over at the large display to the right of the stage afforded a zoomed-in view of his crotch in high definition.

Tanner had a small penis. Not below-average, the way mine was, but humiliatingly puny. Protruding at a ninety-degree angle from a bed of neatly trimmed, honey-brown pubes was a thin, one-inch long shaft. It was about the same length as the distance from the middle knuckle of my thumb to the tip. He was circumcised, with a mushroom head that would have been quite becoming on a bigger cock but looked silly and childlike on Tanner's tiny dick. The balls were relatively closer to a normal size, but still small -- not hanging very low, his scrotum tighter than I'd seen on most adult men and covered stubble, as if freshly shaved.

I couldn't get over the level of detail you could make out on the TV screens. Every individual pube, so beautifully manicured and cascading straight down, like little arrows drawing your attention to the dicklet below. His piss slit, pointing right at the camera. Tanner began thrashing in his constraints, which only had the effect of making his little cock jiggle around.

Some men in the crowd were reanimating. "

Pequeño!

" cried out one man, guffawing. "

Not

what I expected!" said another, and I had to agree. I still couldn't believe that Tanner -- so deeply masculine, so confident, so large in stature -- was sporting the dick of a nine-year-old. And no less, his shame on display in such a public setting.

"Well," said La Tigresa after a while, "no wonder I couldn't feel anything earlier." Beatriz and Tati came forward, crouching on either side of Tanner and holding up their pinky fingers. I pressed the side button on my phone to capture the still image of their mocking him. I hadn't thought my own cock could get any harder, but this most recent development proved me wrong.

I had to fight every urge in body to not jump up on stage and take advantage of Tanner's naked form. Not even the revelation of his less-than-impressive manhood could make me less attracted to him. It was still attached to Tanner, the man I couldn't stop loving, shrimp dick and all.

"Now, now," Tati spoke, for what I believe was the first time on stage, "let's not judge! Maybe it's just these pesky pubes making it look small."

"Good thinking, Tati," said Beatriz. "But we have the tools to help him with that."

Tanner began grunting vigorously. Beatriz left the stage again while Tati rifled through that magic box of goodies. She pulled out an unlabeled tube and set it next to Tanner. I couldn't believe they were about to shave his dick on stage. Beatriz returned with a tin bucket full of water -- and when she set it down in front of the apparatus Tanner was hooked to, I could see that there was ice in the bucket as well.

Tati squeezed the white shaving cream into her palm, rubbing it vigorously between her hands, looking smugly out over the crowd. She began massaging the warmed cream into Tanner's pubes, not bothering to avoid rubbing his dick as she went. When she was satisfied with her coverage of the pubis, she started caressing his nuts to coat them in the shaving cream as well.

Tanner's noises of protestation increased, becoming more desperate -- almost as if he was in pain. "Now, now, Tanner," La Tigresa chimed in, "Don't worry. The depilatory cream stings at first, but we'll get that rinsed off soon."

It wasn't shaving cream! I didn't know exactly what swooning felt like, but I think I came close. The depilatory would mean his pubes would not grow back for quite some time. While she waited for the cream to work its magic, Tati continued playing with Tanner's cock. She started out by flicking it, which got some big laughs from the crowd as it wiggled back and forth like a little worm. After a few more flicks, she made a big show of taking her thumb and forefinger and "stroking" his dick, barely moving her fingers up and down the itty-bitty shaft. Beatriz decided to get in on the fun, unleashing a shockingly long tongue and grazing the tip along the back of Tanner's cockhead. After a few light, teasing strokes she moved onto his bulbous glans, running her tongue around it in vigorous circles.

I was delighted to see him start to get erect. "We're about to see if he's a grower, folks!" La Tigresa announced. Alas, it did not take long for Tanner to reach full mast, because there wasn't that much expansion to be done. I suppose one advantage of a dick that small is a rapid soft-to-hard turnaround time, although it was definitely less of an asset in Tanner's current predicament.

Fully erect, Tanner's cock was maybe three inches -- barely the size of his own index finger. It hadn't gained much girth, but it was a good-looking cock in other regards. Smooth and clean looking with no bulging veins or blemishes. It was... cute. I loved it. It had a pronounced upward curve, which might have helped him please despite its diminutive size but had the effect of making it look even smaller than it was in the straight-on view of the monitors. Those not close to the stage probably thought his erection was positively microscopic.

Beatriz continued to deliver tiny strokes with her tongue, moving from the head to his short shaft. Tati took it upon herself to gently rub his frenulum with the tip of one finger and pressing on his prostate through his taint with the other hand. I was starting to wonder how long they would edge him like that, but in the zoomed-up view of the TV screens, I noticed Tanner's nuts (still covered in depilatory cream) contract. His slit opened wider, letting out a single bead of precum.

Only two or three minutes had elapsed since the queens had started playing with his cock, but suddenly, Tanner's entire body clenched as his dick started twitching. Noticing this, Beatriz and Tati immediately pulled away from Tanner just in time for the smallest, saddest dribble of jizz I'd ever seen to leak out of his cock. Some of it hung in a thin rope from the tip of his dick, and the rest made a nickel-sized puddle on the floor.

The crowd erupted with laughter and yelling, with multi-lingual comments on his premature ejaculation and the pathetic volume of cum he'd produced. La Tigresa took the mic again, "What a dirty, disgusting little boy! Can't even control yourself for two minutes. Girls, clean him up."

Beatriz hastily grabbed the bucket of ice water, and started making a motion as if to throw it all on Tanner while the crowd counted down from

tres

. She launched the freezing water at Tanner's groin, washing away the depilatory cream and the remaining cum on his dick.

His entire crotch was bald now, with no stubble or bumps to indicate that there had ever been hair down there. The frigid water had caused immediate shrinkage. His entire shaft disappeared inside his body; only his shrunken mushroom dickhead remained visible, like a boil on his groin. His nuts had all but retracted up into him, giving the appearance of having no testicles at all. He had gone from looking like a teen in early puberty to a toddler -- he could have been a Ken doll if not for his glans poking out. I took another photo, this time zooming out so his face was in frame as well.

I didn't know before that night that I would find the complete sexual humiliation of Tanner so deeply arousing. In a way it was a weight off my shoulders, knowing that this boy I put on a pedestal and organized my life around was flawed, so easily knocked down several pegs. He was not perfect; he was vain, ashamed of his size, and sexually feeble.

"Now," said La Tigresa, walking back over to Tanner. "Are you ready to apologize for being so disrespectful to my ladies?"

She undid his gag and pulled the wet linen from his mouth. He sputtered for a few moments, and began yelling, "Untie me NOW, you massive cu--ah, ah, AH!" Before he could finish cussing out La Tigresa, she had extended her flat hand between his thighs and delivered three pushing blows to his retracted nuts. Tanner's head bobbed down as if momentarily blacking out from the pain.

"That did not sound like, 'I'm sorry,' Tanner," La Tigresa cooed.

Tanner was panting. His chest was blotched and red again. "I... I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"Good little boy!" Meanwhile, Tati and Beatriz had been cleaning up, mopping up the water and putting some of the toys back in the black box. La Tigresa turned back to address the crowd. "I hope you've enjoyed our little show this evening, everybody! Now, our time is almost up, but I think we can squeeze in one last audience vote. We're about to untie our under-endowed friend here and send him on his merry way. But should we send him on his way with his pants?"

With his shirt and underwear ripped to shreds, all the remained were Tanner's pants and shoes. Of course, the crowd was very anti-pants. "Leave him naked!" someone boomed out. "Let the world see that baby dick!"

"Well, that settles that! Beatriz, please dispose of his clothes. He can have his shoes back, though -- they look expensive."

If Tanner was about to be untied and un-blindfolded, I didn't want him to see that I had eagerly bounded to the front of the crowd. La Tigresa kicked off one last lip sync while the others started releasing Tanner from his bounds, so I hurried to the bathroom. I started formulating an alibi to tell Tanner when we met back up, but I couldn't think straight with my cock so hard and itching to cum. It had been over a week since I was last able to climax, and the pressure was all-consuming. I feared that even the friction of my underwear as I walked would be enough to send me over the edge.

The bathroom was full of guys pissing with their pants around their ankles; two guys were hooking up in a stall and another two were making out against the wall next to the hand dryer. I was dismayed to find that the stalls had no doors (by design, I assume), but I didn't think anyone would mind if I quickly tugged one out in plain view. After everyone had seen what Tanner was packing, any dick would look amazing in comparison.

And indeed, as I sat on the toilet and undid my jeans, my cock sprang into impressive view in front of me. It was as stiff as it had ever been in my life, giving me an extra-half inch on top of a favorable angle that unhid the base of my shaft from the extra bit of padding that had grown down there. I unbuttoned my shirt and started stroking, looking at the pictures of Tanner I had taken on my phone, shocked that I wasn't immediately cumming.

A couple guys peeked their heads in the stall, just smirking when they noticed me and leaving me be. But after a few moments, I was surprised to see Diego's face staring down at me. I didn't care, and kept stroking while making eye contact with him. "Oh, hey," I said casually.

"Looks like seeing your friend like that really did it for you," he chuckled.

"Yeah, you think?" he didn't respond, but kept standing there. "Sorry, did you need the stall or something?"

"No, I just like to check out the bathrooms. Always something going on in here in this club." Once I got used to his presence, I started to become more aroused by having someone watch. I started letting out some moans, really hamming it up. Between the booze from earlier in the evening and my state of pure arousal, I started to think that maybe Diego wasn't that bad-looking after all. His skimpy vest revealed black, curly body hair and a set of well-defined abs. So when he asked, "Anyway, you want some help with that?" I was happy to oblige.

Diego knelt between my legs. I hadn't received a blowjob -- or had sex of any kind -- since my high school girlfriend. I knew from the first time I fucked her that I was gay, but hadn't been able to bring myself to actually pursue sex with a man. When Diego's lips closed around my cock, I knew immediately what I had been missing out on. My high school girlfriend did not know her way around a man's body, but Diego certainly did. He started slowly, fondling my balls as he went, and with time increased his speed and suction. His tongue stroked the sensitive skin behind my cockhead and he occasionally paused to take both of my nuts into his eager mouth.

I was impressed with my own stamina, letting the pressure and pleasure build but lasting a good while before reaching the edge. After maybe ten minutes of getting serviced, I announced in a raspy voice that I was about to cum. Diego sped up, and reached underneath me to apply a firm and steady pressure to my taint. He released me from his mouth and started stroking my schlong with his big, strong hands.

I erupted like a volcano -- jizz hit the wall behind me, my face, Diego's face -- I just kept cumming, Diego's consistent pressure on my prostate squeezing every last ounce of juice out of me. Pure, unadulterated pleasure crashed over me like a wave -- I even saw starbursts behind my eyes, something I always thought was made up. When the spurting stopped, Diego returned his mouth to my cock and sucked any remaining ejaculate out of me until I was completely dry, the stimulation on my sensitive post-climax head sending a shock throughout my entire body.

"That was fucking great," was all I could say. We cleaned ourselves up; I straightened myself out in the mirror and gave Diego a long, passionate kiss before returning out into the club. I started scanning for Tanner, but it was easy to find the naked white guy getting felt up in the middle of the dance floor. The drag queens were nowhere to be seen, and a DJ playing generic dance beats was on the stage in their stead. The TV monitors no longer showed Tanner's genitals, but psychedelic fractals.

I made my way over to Tanner, who seemed relieved to see me. "Dude, where the hell have you been?" he cried out over the music. He had his hands clasped firmly around his groin, hiding his manhood (or lack thereof). A skinny bald guy maneuvered behind Tanner and grabbed his ass, causing Tanner to jump. But he couldn't fight back or push the men away, determined as he was to stay covered up.

"I just got the best blowjob of my life in the bathroom," I told him.

"What the fuck, Jamie?" Tanner grew flush with anger. "I can believe you--" He stopped cold.

"Ditched you for a hookup?" I asked, the irony dawning on me as well.

Tanner looked down sheepishly. "Yeah, well. How long were you gone? Did you see...?"

I chose not to answer, letting my silence speak for me. Instead, I unbuttoned my shirt, took it off, and handed it to my friend. "Here. You can tie this around your waist."

"Thank you so much," he said, hurriedly grabbing my shirt from me. Twenty-four hours ago, I would have felt embarrassed to be shirtless in a public setting like this, but now I was feeling incredibly sexy. Damn a few extra pounds. I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirrored wall, and I looked good -- strapping, barrel-chested, neat chest hair, a decent bulge in my jeans. I was young, virile, and clearly desirable to the gay men around me. Tanner's debasement had filled me with new confidence. The composition of the club had changed slowly over the evening; the men were younger, and more sexy girls in tight clothes had filtered in. I could tell by the way some of them kept stealing glances at Tanner and giggling that they had caught the end of his act. Surprisingly, my cock began to stir again with the realization that he had been emasculated in front of everyone he could have hoped to fuck tonight.

Tanner secured my shirt around him, exposing his penis again briefly as he did. The shock of the cold water had worn off, and his junk looked relatively normal again -- back to a baby-dicked adult as opposed to an actual baby.

The man in the "STAFF" shirt approached us with a Ziploc bag containing Tanner's phone, wallet, and belt. He handed it to Tanner wordlessly and slinked away.

"Thank fuck," said Tanner, "can we go now?"

I nodded. We made our way through the crowded floor, aiming towards the door. We were both shirtless, which several men took as an invitation to run their hands through our body hair as we passed. This seemed to make Tanner ever more flustered, but I was enjoying the attention. I should have started going to gay clubs a long time ago, I thought.

For good reason, Tanner didn't want to go back on the metro, so we hailed a cab. The first driver wouldn't take us in our half-dressed states, but we found one with a junkier car who agreed to take us back to our hostel. As we climbed in, I was still feeling electric and aroused. This had easily been the best night of my life. But the heavy silence of the cab gave Tanner too much freedom to process what had just happened to him. I stared at his face as all the emotions flashed across it -- shame, confusion, panic, even hesitant arousal. We spent the rest of the ride mostly in silence, I trying to think of what to say, Tanner trying to make sense of what had happened to him.

By car, our trip back wasn't too long. I paid the fare and tipped the driver, and we headed back into the hostel. We entered into the bar, where the bartender and a few drunk guests were sitting in dim light, watching a Spanish-language late night show.

"Hey, it's you!" the bartender called out. "My friends at the club told me you had a good time."

Tanner froze, and I looked back and forth between them. "You set me up!" Tanner accused.

"Señora Tigresa and I go way back," the bartender grinned. "She gets me a good price on blow, I send her the hottest foreign men who come in here. I saw some pictures from your performance. I gotta say, not what I expected from a stud like you."

Tanner was bright red. I knew his unchecked extraversion and adventurousness would get the better of him one day. Maybe this would serve as a lesson -- stick with your friends, not with exciting strangers.

He made to huff off back to the dorms, but the bartender called after him. "Hey, let me do you a favor. You're not the only guest I recommended that club to tonight. You're not going to have a good time in the communal room when everyone gets back." The bartender tossed me a set of keys from behind the bar. "I arranged for you a private bedroom. Free upgrade!"

Tanner and I grabbed our bags and towels from the communal room and went to our new accommodations: a tight bedroom with barely enough room for a full bed, one night stand, and a stool in the corner. "This is great," I said, flopping on the bed. It was the real deal, with a mattress and box spring and everything, much nicer than the glorified cots posing as twin bunkbeds in the other room.

Tanner still seemed angry, tearing through his bag for some clothes to wear. He pulled out a pair of his signature boxer briefs, but didn't bother to pull his balls into the pouch, making him look dickless in the tight underwear. He slid on a pair of basketball shorts and joined me in bed.

I made to put an arm around him, to comfort him. I had had my fun and seen every inch of Tanner; I had the photos I had always lusted for. It was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders -- with the memory and recordings of this night, I could jack off to Tanner's naked form until I was absolutely sick of it. I could free myself from this crush and go back to treasuring his friendship, just as it was. But for right now, he needed a friend, and I wanted to help him recover from his ordeal.

For a moment, I delighted in the feeling of my bare torso pressed up against his. "Tanner, I kn--"