Small Penis Humiliation Phone Sex: The Office Party Braggart

The office holiday party was in full swing, open bar, bad DJ, the usual. I was by the windows with my wine, watching the room the way I always do, when I noticed Kevin. Mid thirties, marketing, the kind of man who laughs too loud at his own jokes. He had three young interns cornered by the bar, telling them some story about his weekend conquests, gesturing with his drink, absolutely glowing with self satisfaction.

I caught a piece of it as I walked past. Something about a woman who could not walk straight the next day. I stopped. I turned. I said, that is quite a story, Kevin. He puffed up like a pigeon. All true, Miss Tyler, he said. Every word. I smiled slowly and said, is it. Then prove it.

He laughed nervously. The interns scattered like sensible children. I told him to follow me, and he did, because men like Kevin always follow a confident woman into an empty room. I led him to the dark conference room down the hall, closed the door, and leaned against the table. Show me, I said. If you are such a legend, let me see the equipment.

His bravado cracked so fast it was almost sad. He stammered something about this being inappropriate. I said, what is inappropriate is lying to little girls about your sex life, Kevin. Drop your pants or walk out that door and never speak to me again. He dropped his pants. His underwear followed. And there it was.

I laughed. I did not mean to be kind about it, there was no kindness in me that night. I laughed right in his stupid shocked face. That? I said, pointing. That is what you have been bragging about all night. That tiny little shrimp. God, Kevin. I have seen bigger things on a toddler's action figures. His face went the color of beets and his pathetic little cock, which had been half hard from the thrill of it, started to shrink in real time.

Oh no, I said, do not go shy on me now. I thought you were a legend. Tell me, how exactly does that little thing satisfy a woman. Walk me through it. Does she need a magnifying glass to find it. Does she pretend. Be honest, they all pretend, do they not. He was shaking, but here is the thing men never admit. He was also getting hard again. They always do. Humiliation is the only thing that works for men like him.

I circled him slowly, sipping my wine, delivering the truth like a lecture. You and I both know no woman has ever been satisfied by that. That is why you brag to interns who do not know better. That is why you will go home alone tonight and stroke that sad little joke while thinking about this moment. I made him say it out loud. Say it, Kevin. Say I have a tiny dick. He whispered it. Louder, I said. He said it louder, and I laughed again, delighted.

I told him to touch himself, right there, while I watched and narrated. Go on, show me how you do it when you are alone, all angry and pathetic. He obeyed, humiliated tears in his eyes, stroking frantically while I described exactly how small he looked doing it. I let him get close, so close, and then I said stop. He actually sobbed. Please, he begged. I finished my wine and said, legends do not beg, Kevin. Then I walked out and left him there with his pants around his ankles.

He avoids me in the hallways now. But I catch him looking at me sometimes, and I see exactly what he is thinking about. Men like him never forget the woman who told them the truth.

If you need someone to say what everyone else is too polite to say about your tiny little problem, you know where I am. Do not waste my time with lies. I will know.