Two years had passed since Sam’s tiny dick was put on display in the middle of the school hallway for all to see.
Sam had entered high school and life wasn’t too bad. A new school meant a new reputation. He was fifteen now, and had begun to grow into his lanky body quite nicely. His arms and legs were becoming quite muscular, but one part of Sam still stayed small: his cock.
Basketball season had begun, and Sam was only a freshman, but he was tall AND talented. For these reasons, he had become the only freshmen to make the JV team. He was so excited—coach even said he could sub a few varsity games! Sam was ecstatic.
His blonde hair bounced around his face as he ran down the court, and all the freshmen girls loved it. You know who didn’t love the way his hair bounced? Owen.
Owen was a junior and the son of the varsity coach. He was a little shorter than Sam, but more muscular and much more sure of himself on the court. He had dark hair and a short fuse. Sam had replaced him under the net at the end of their last scrimmage, and Owen didn’t like it one bit. He spent days mulling over how to get back at Sam for humiliating him and subbing into his spot that week before.
“Yo, Owen, you gotta check this out. Dude, look...” Greg hollered across the locker room. “My little sister sent me this after I told her who made the team...” as his voice trailed off, he turned his phone towards Owen. On the screen was that little brat Sam, and...he was...naked? Well, almost. His shirt was pulled up, his pants and undies were pulled down, and his arms were out like a scarecrow. If Owen zoomed in, he could see the tiniest dick that he had ever seen.
“Oh, this is good...” he said with a smirk. “That little brat has a little fucking dick.”
“Unless it’s grown since then!” Greg countered. “My sister said this was when they were in seventh grade.”
“Well, there’s only one way for us to find out.” Owen cracked his knuckles and flashed a devilish grin as he walked towards the gym doors. Practice was about to start.
Coach Stevenson blew his whistle and the guys gathered around.
“Alright, men,” coach said in his deep chest voice. “Due to scheduling conflicts, the cheerleaders will be practicing at the back wall of the gym. Steer clear of them as you play, and, for the love of God, leave those poor girls alone while you’re on the court. You can flirt after we’re finished.” Coach tapped his clip board with his pen. “Now—Smith, Reeves, Gallagher, Jones, and McGraw—you five are gonna start as shirts.” He glanced at Owen and then at Sam. “Owen, you take Sam, Clarke, and the Ianuzo twins. You’re skins.”
This couldn’t have been a more perfect set up.
Owen took off his tight shirt and flexed his upper body ever so slightly. The cheerleaders were watching him and the other boys as they stripped off their tees; they swooned over Owen, and some giggled at Sam and how cute and tall he was. Such eye candy.
As practice went on, some of the boys got more aggressive and showy in hopes of impressing the girls. Whenever they’d bring the ball down to Sam’s side of the court, they’d really try to show off for the girls as they got closer toward their practice area.
After one blatant foul on Sam, he walked his sweaty self to the free throw line and started his pre-shot ritual: bounce the ball once, spin it in his hands, bounce it two more times, and then bend his knees and shoot. Sam knew he had to focus on this shot to impress coach, and also to impress the girls, who were just a few yards behind the basket. Some had even taken out their phones to record him and his sexy glistening chest. He felt so cool.
Sam was so focused on his pre-shot ritual and all the attention from the cheerleaders—he didn’t even hear Owen sneaking up behind him. Just as Sam bent his knees to shoot, Owen grabbed the sides of his basketball shorts as tight as he could and yanked. Sam lost his balance and totally missed his shot.
This really WAS perfect.
Owen’s hands grasped just enough fabric to get Sam’s shorts AND his jockstrap down to his ankles. Even though Owen was behind Sam’s small white butt, he figured from the look on the cheerleaders faces, not much had changed for Sam in the penis department since he’d been pantsed back in 7th grade. This was gold.
Sam couldn’t believe he was completely naked in front of all of these people. Sam couldn’t believe he was completely naked in front of all these girls! The ones who were recording couldn’t stop cackling. Nobody could stop laughing! Sam was sweaty, and that meant his hairless balls and baby dick were even smaller than in their normal state. Pair that with the “shirts versus skins” and...there was no hiding it. Within hours, everyone would know Sam’s cock was small.
Coach’s whistle pierced the air. “Owen! What the fuck?” He threw his clip board on the ground. “Sam, pull your pants up, for God’s sake!” Sam was frozen for what felt like forever. His face was sharper and handsomer now; his body was developed (well, except for, y’know); his demeanor was different. But all that came crashing down in a single moment. His tiny secret was out and now he felt so small.
Owen was still stifling his laughter. He wanted to humiliate the kid, sure, but he didn’t think he’d get this lucky.
“Owen, pull them the hell back up!” Coach yelled. He often forgot his son was such a bully.
“Okay, coach...” Owen replied in a snarky tone. He bent down and grabbed Sam’s jockstrap, then pulled it up until Sam yelped. “Hehe, wedgie!” Owen said under his breath. The pain in Sam’s balls was agonizing but it still didn’t compare to the embarrassment he felt being nude in front of this gym full of people.
As Sam pulled up his shorts, he tried his hardest not to cry. He didn’t even grab his shirt or let coach get a word in before he bolted back to the locker room to hide in shame.
“That was fucking hilarious, dude.” Greg reached out for a high five and Owen happily obliged.
“Yeah, man.” Owen smiled sinfully once more. “That little punk is going to be showing his tiny pecker off a lot more this year and he doesn’t even know it yet.”
So much for a new reputation.
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