Smaller and Smaller
Chapter Two
By Degrbi
Theresa
Honestly, it was such a pleasure to ride in something other than our boring Toyota Camry for a change. Jamal’s Ferrari was thrilling, almost as thrilling as he was. I tried not to think about Robert on our little getaway, stuck at home. He was undoubtedly masturbating, per usual.
Ever since Jamal took up part-time residence in our home, Robert has acted strangely. I was really expecting him to object more strongly, to put up a fight, if you will. Instead, his mild-mannered acceptance has thrown me a curve.
Now, instead of having to defend my relationship with Jamal, I felt obliged to accommodate my husband’s need for details. As I would tell him about how things went, how much I enjoyed Jamal’s large cock inside me, he seemed to be fascinated. He especially seemed interested in the rather unconventional dominant/submissive roles we played.
I knew it would be impossible for him not to hear some of the things Jamal and I got up to in our bedroom, turned playroom. I had taken to key-locking the door as a result of some of the ‘apparatus’ Jamal had had delivered. It was beginning to look more like a dungeon than a bedroom of late.
“I really need to do something about Robert’s masturbation, Jamal. He seems to be getting off on what we’re doing.” I explained.
Jamal just laughed. “And what’s wrong with that? At least he’s not trying to interfere.” He shifted, pressing me back into the seat. “What, are you worried about him staining the carpet with his useless white seed?”
“I just don’t like the idea of him getting his jollies jerking off over our S&M activities,” I admitted.
“So, that’s what’s bothering you. Tell you what. I’ll have a friend of mine write a prescription for some Finasteride.” Jamal seemed to know what he was talking about.
“What is that?” I asked. “Will it calm him down, or something?”
“You could say that.” Jamal chuckled. “It’ll be up to you to get it into him. I don’t want to be involved.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll crush it up and put in something if I have to.” I assured him.
A few days later, Jamal came over and passed me a large quantity of the small blue pills. “Start him off on two a day, and then cut it back or you might not like what happens.” He insisted, slapping his hands together, as he was done with them.
As long as it at least stopped Robert from masturbating so much, I was going to be pleased. I began to wonder just how much joy the guy could get with his measly four inches, but he managed somehow.
Jamal and I retired to our room early that night, leaving Robert to clean up our dishes. He seemed pleased that we were together, and for whatever reason, it bothered me. I had crushed two of the pills and slipped them into his wine. He was none the wiser.
Jamal was brutal with me that night, perhaps in response to my treatment of my husband. After he fastened me to the St. Andrew’s cross, he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “We could always castrate him you know.” Two lashes of the whip followed, more harshly than I was used to. “It might be more humane than the slow death of his manhood you’re orchestrating.” Four quick lashes which I swore laid my skin open.
“Jamal, please…” I begged.
“Not in here I’m not!” He chortled, lacing my back with three searing lashes which had me seeing stars.
“Master! Sorry… master.” I remembered, his new rule igniting the fire which was already simmering in my cunt. Jamal came up behind me and teased the opening of it with the head of his enormous cock, the juices allowing him to press inside easily.
“You used to be tight, Terry. Seems like you’ve been stretched open a bit.” He teased.
“Please, master, stretch me some more,” I begged, as he rammed his cock to the hilt, feeling my guts shift upward and depriving me of my breath for a moment.
“You’ve always been a sloppy whore, now you just flaunt it like one.” Jamal began the rhythmic fucking of my cunt, sliding nearly all the way out, before ramming himself deep into my womb. The humiliation of his words and the sounds my cunt made as it tried to grip his member had me tattering on the edge of an incredible orgasm.
I felt his cock swell as he grew closer and the speed of his assault quickened. This was what had ruined me, I knew it. I would never again enjoy anything but his monster cock again. For a moment, I thought about Robert and his minuscule, little wiener trying to fuck me now. I smiled at the absurdity of it.
Jamal grabbed my hips, slamming his cock as deep as he could get it, his muscular abs crashing into my ass as he came. Something inside me felt him come, and I knew I’d be leaking his seed for hours afterward.
Robert
It had been a month since Theresa had started locking the door to our old master bedroom. It was forbidden territory for me now. I’d gotten used to sleeping in the guest room, and to be honest it lent me the privacy I needed to masturbate to my heart's content.
Jamal and my wife were a couple now, and I was simply an inconvenient accessory. Nothing I did was of any consequence to either of them, so I spent most of my time watching interracial porn. I’d become familiar with the term, ‘Gooner’ and was convinced that I was certainly qualified to call myself one.
I did manage to have a peek into their bedroom one morning while my wife was in the shower. She had left the door unlocked and I slipped inside. What I saw resembled something out of a porno, a BDSM porno to boot. I was intrigued, thinking about everything Jamal must surely be doing to my wife.
I retreated to my room and opened my robe, hoping to get a quick tug in before I had to leave for work. All of the sensation was there, but for whatever reason, my penis stayed limp. I managed to reach what was a rather lackluster orgasm, a sort of dry hump, where nothing came out. It was weird.
Jamal and my wife were more hot and heavy than ever over the next few weeks, and I loved hearing them. I was beginning to get concerned, though, when I just stopped getting an erection altogether. I could still masturbate, but my penis just stayed at its puny and soft two inches. When I did come, it was clear, not the usual milky white that I was used to having to clean up.
For whatever reason, I was beginning to find my inability to get hard a bit of a turn-on. The thing was, I longer fantasized over my wife and Jamal, my appetite for more and more intense porno being needed to even get myself to the edge. My balls were always tight, but they had started pulling up inside recently, and I began to love the idea of looking as though I’d been castrated.
It was one morning, two months later, when I was getting out of the shower, that I noticed they had pulled up inside completely. I’d always been able to push them down before and managed that time as well. That was when I noticed how much smaller they appeared. It was also when I noticed my nipples. My normally flat chest now seemed a bit plusher, my nipples coming to points with the chill in the bathroom.
I pinched at them, and a shock of excitement coursed down my torso, causing my shriveled penis to twitch. Along with my balls, my penis too had tightened up. It wasn’t like an erection, more like a more permanent hardness in its tiny state. The only thing keeping me from running to the doctor was the fact that I absolutely loved what was happening. I loved my tiny balls, my shrunken penis, and now, and most especially, my sensitive nipples.
Was this some sort of side effect of being cuckolded? I began to wonder whether something was being done to me. Would Theresa give me something to do this? If she was, I certainly didn’t want to give her any reason to stop. I did a bit of a search, and eventually found the stash of whatever it was she was dosing me with.
I wasn’t upset or anything. In fact, I decided to up the voltage. Whatever they were, I was going to take two of these tiny blue pills to add to whatever she was giving me. This amazing transformation was certain about to step up a notch.
Sure enough, less than two weeks later, I began to notice a difference. My erect nipples had started to swell into what looked like pubescent cones. Everything down below had tightened to the point that I could no longer masturbate normally. I would have to rub myself like a girl to come.
As my balls had retreated inside permanently, there was nothing to stop me from exerting the amount of frantic agitation I needed to even get close to coming. The thing was I just couldn’t. I just stayed on the edge, and it was maddening, and amazing at the same time. If I wasn’t a Gooner before, I was an edging idiot now.
After a month, the porn I was watching now was the really extreme shit, and it disturbed me that that was what it was taking for me to become aroused. I had decided to rid myself of all my body hair, after my frustrated, beyond horny mind, thought it would be humiliating to do so. I stood in the shower and nearly went through an entire pack of disposable razors. It all had to go, legs, arms, pubes, everything.
I stood in the mirror, admiring how feminine now was. My breasts, which is all they could be called, looked incredibly sexy without my chest hair. I looked down at my tiny nub of a penis, my shriveled scrotum pulled up flush beneath, like I never had balls.
I wondered if I had lost my mind when I rummaged through the bin below the sink, finding the beard trimmer I had never used, and plugged it in. Without a thought, I began shaving my head. If I was going to be hairless, it was going to be all the way. Using the last of the razors, I took off what the trimmers had left behind, my glossy bald head reflecting back at me.
I never cleaned up the mess I left in the guest bathroom, running for my computer to see if I could finally squeeze out a successful come. I put on the most disgusting stuff I could manage to find and began to abuse my thimble-sized nub. I could feel it, it was coming, and it ultimately did. Suddenly I felt as though I was going to faint, and my hand grew wet with the watery liquid that seeped out of the tip of my penis.
I’d finally come, after weeks of trying in vain. Only then, did I realize what I’d done to myself. I was bald, bald, and completely shaved. A sudden fear crept over me. What would people say? What would Theresa say? All this in the quest for that one last come, and I was convinced that it certainly would be my last.
Theresa
“I’m really worried about him.” I sighed, as Jamal listened to my angst over the phone. “He just has this desperate look about him all the time now.”
“Well, what did you expect? You took away his manhood, baby. What did you think was going to happen?” Jamal reasoned. “You did reduce the dose as I told you, didn’t you?”
“Actually, I forgot. He’s been getting two of the pills a day.” I admitted.
“You’re joking. You better check him out a little closer next time you see him, and I mean naked.”
“Gross. I haven’t seen him that way for months, Jamal.” I said, angrily. “How am I going to explain my sudden interest?”
“Find a way. My friend warned me about too much of that stuff. Look, I just don’t want you to come home and find the guy in trouble, or worse.” Jamal voiced, concerned.
“Fine. I’ll check him out tonight.” I gave in. I had no interest in seeing my husband naked. All his oversexed shenanigans had really turned my stomach. Then again, who was I talk?
The BDSM thing between Jamal and I had grown as intense as it could and stay part-time. I was essentially his slave, and was outwardly submissive to him, even in public. He had gone so far as to lead me around on a leash through the grocery store. There had been other things, but that was the most humiliating, and the riskiest.
The Camry wasn’t in the driveway when I got home, and I began to get worried. Robert always arrived home before me. I set down my things and made my way upstairs.
I hadn’t been in the guest bedroom in some time, and the state of it was appalling. Aside from the smell, the place was a pigsty. The bed wasn’t made and the sheets had been stripped. It looked as though he had been sleeping on the bare mattress. I was surprised when I didn’t see a myriad of come stains. There just weren’t any.
Concerned now, I made my way out of the room and down the hall to the guest bathroom. I was shocked when I saw the floor covered with a scattering of black hair. The clippers he must have used were still on the edge of the sink. That was when I looked in the tub and saw the ring of hair around it.
“Jesus, what did he do, shave himself completely?” I said out loud.
“Yes.” A meek voice came from behind me.
Startled and even a little frightened, I stepped back from the stranger who stood in the doorway. I had never seen Robert with short hair let alone baldheaded. He looked ridiculous.
“Robert, for Christ’s sake. You look ridiculous.” It just came out. “What did they say at work?”
“Not a lot. A few of the women were kind and said it looked good on me, but I know they were laughing behind my back.” He admitted, but not upset, simply resigned.
“You still have your job?” I asked, tentatively.
“Oh, yeah. One of the bosses asked if I was alright, and I simply said I needed a change. That was as far as it went.” He explained.
“You need to clean this bathroom,” I demanded, shortly. I stopped just shy of saying anything about his bedroom. “I need you to strip, Robert.”
“What?” He said, surprised. “Why?”
“Let’s just say, I want to see what you did.” I lied. I supposed that being curious about him shaving all his body hair off was more attractive to him than: ‘I want to see what this drug I’ve been giving you has done’.
I could see a slight moment of hesitation before he agreed. I wondered if his penchant for humiliation was so strong that it overpowered any sense of shame he might have about me seeing him this way.
“I’ll wait in here while you go to your room. I want you naked when you come back.” Trying to play into his need for this. Nodding, he disappeared down the hall while I tried to prepare myself for what I was about to see.
My eyes practically fell out of my head when he stepped into the bathroom. Aside from being utterly hairless, the changes the drug had caused were beyond anything I could have imagined. I tried desperately to keep myself from laughing. I failed miserably.
Chapter Two
By Degrbi
Theresa
Honestly, it was such a pleasure to ride in something other than our boring Toyota Camry for a change. Jamal’s Ferrari was thrilling, almost as thrilling as he was. I tried not to think about Robert on our little getaway, stuck at home. He was undoubtedly masturbating, per usual.
Ever since Jamal took up part-time residence in our home, Robert has acted strangely. I was really expecting him to object more strongly, to put up a fight, if you will. Instead, his mild-mannered acceptance has thrown me a curve.
Now, instead of having to defend my relationship with Jamal, I felt obliged to accommodate my husband’s need for details. As I would tell him about how things went, how much I enjoyed Jamal’s large cock inside me, he seemed to be fascinated. He especially seemed interested in the rather unconventional dominant/submissive roles we played.
I knew it would be impossible for him not to hear some of the things Jamal and I got up to in our bedroom, turned playroom. I had taken to key-locking the door as a result of some of the ‘apparatus’ Jamal had had delivered. It was beginning to look more like a dungeon than a bedroom of late.
“I really need to do something about Robert’s masturbation, Jamal. He seems to be getting off on what we’re doing.” I explained.
Jamal just laughed. “And what’s wrong with that? At least he’s not trying to interfere.” He shifted, pressing me back into the seat. “What, are you worried about him staining the carpet with his useless white seed?”
“I just don’t like the idea of him getting his jollies jerking off over our S&M activities,” I admitted.
“So, that’s what’s bothering you. Tell you what. I’ll have a friend of mine write a prescription for some Finasteride.” Jamal seemed to know what he was talking about.
“What is that?” I asked. “Will it calm him down, or something?”
“You could say that.” Jamal chuckled. “It’ll be up to you to get it into him. I don’t want to be involved.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll crush it up and put in something if I have to.” I assured him.
A few days later, Jamal came over and passed me a large quantity of the small blue pills. “Start him off on two a day, and then cut it back or you might not like what happens.” He insisted, slapping his hands together, as he was done with them.
As long as it at least stopped Robert from masturbating so much, I was going to be pleased. I began to wonder just how much joy the guy could get with his measly four inches, but he managed somehow.
Jamal and I retired to our room early that night, leaving Robert to clean up our dishes. He seemed pleased that we were together, and for whatever reason, it bothered me. I had crushed two of the pills and slipped them into his wine. He was none the wiser.
Jamal was brutal with me that night, perhaps in response to my treatment of my husband. After he fastened me to the St. Andrew’s cross, he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “We could always castrate him you know.” Two lashes of the whip followed, more harshly than I was used to. “It might be more humane than the slow death of his manhood you’re orchestrating.” Four quick lashes which I swore laid my skin open.
“Jamal, please…” I begged.
“Not in here I’m not!” He chortled, lacing my back with three searing lashes which had me seeing stars.
“Master! Sorry… master.” I remembered, his new rule igniting the fire which was already simmering in my cunt. Jamal came up behind me and teased the opening of it with the head of his enormous cock, the juices allowing him to press inside easily.
“You used to be tight, Terry. Seems like you’ve been stretched open a bit.” He teased.
“Please, master, stretch me some more,” I begged, as he rammed his cock to the hilt, feeling my guts shift upward and depriving me of my breath for a moment.
“You’ve always been a sloppy whore, now you just flaunt it like one.” Jamal began the rhythmic fucking of my cunt, sliding nearly all the way out, before ramming himself deep into my womb. The humiliation of his words and the sounds my cunt made as it tried to grip his member had me tattering on the edge of an incredible orgasm.
I felt his cock swell as he grew closer and the speed of his assault quickened. This was what had ruined me, I knew it. I would never again enjoy anything but his monster cock again. For a moment, I thought about Robert and his minuscule, little wiener trying to fuck me now. I smiled at the absurdity of it.
Jamal grabbed my hips, slamming his cock as deep as he could get it, his muscular abs crashing into my ass as he came. Something inside me felt him come, and I knew I’d be leaking his seed for hours afterward.
Robert
It had been a month since Theresa had started locking the door to our old master bedroom. It was forbidden territory for me now. I’d gotten used to sleeping in the guest room, and to be honest it lent me the privacy I needed to masturbate to my heart's content.
Jamal and my wife were a couple now, and I was simply an inconvenient accessory. Nothing I did was of any consequence to either of them, so I spent most of my time watching interracial porn. I’d become familiar with the term, ‘Gooner’ and was convinced that I was certainly qualified to call myself one.
I did manage to have a peek into their bedroom one morning while my wife was in the shower. She had left the door unlocked and I slipped inside. What I saw resembled something out of a porno, a BDSM porno to boot. I was intrigued, thinking about everything Jamal must surely be doing to my wife.
I retreated to my room and opened my robe, hoping to get a quick tug in before I had to leave for work. All of the sensation was there, but for whatever reason, my penis stayed limp. I managed to reach what was a rather lackluster orgasm, a sort of dry hump, where nothing came out. It was weird.
Jamal and my wife were more hot and heavy than ever over the next few weeks, and I loved hearing them. I was beginning to get concerned, though, when I just stopped getting an erection altogether. I could still masturbate, but my penis just stayed at its puny and soft two inches. When I did come, it was clear, not the usual milky white that I was used to having to clean up.
For whatever reason, I was beginning to find my inability to get hard a bit of a turn-on. The thing was, I longer fantasized over my wife and Jamal, my appetite for more and more intense porno being needed to even get myself to the edge. My balls were always tight, but they had started pulling up inside recently, and I began to love the idea of looking as though I’d been castrated.
It was one morning, two months later, when I was getting out of the shower, that I noticed they had pulled up inside completely. I’d always been able to push them down before and managed that time as well. That was when I noticed how much smaller they appeared. It was also when I noticed my nipples. My normally flat chest now seemed a bit plusher, my nipples coming to points with the chill in the bathroom.
I pinched at them, and a shock of excitement coursed down my torso, causing my shriveled penis to twitch. Along with my balls, my penis too had tightened up. It wasn’t like an erection, more like a more permanent hardness in its tiny state. The only thing keeping me from running to the doctor was the fact that I absolutely loved what was happening. I loved my tiny balls, my shrunken penis, and now, and most especially, my sensitive nipples.
Was this some sort of side effect of being cuckolded? I began to wonder whether something was being done to me. Would Theresa give me something to do this? If she was, I certainly didn’t want to give her any reason to stop. I did a bit of a search, and eventually found the stash of whatever it was she was dosing me with.
I wasn’t upset or anything. In fact, I decided to up the voltage. Whatever they were, I was going to take two of these tiny blue pills to add to whatever she was giving me. This amazing transformation was certain about to step up a notch.
Sure enough, less than two weeks later, I began to notice a difference. My erect nipples had started to swell into what looked like pubescent cones. Everything down below had tightened to the point that I could no longer masturbate normally. I would have to rub myself like a girl to come.
As my balls had retreated inside permanently, there was nothing to stop me from exerting the amount of frantic agitation I needed to even get close to coming. The thing was I just couldn’t. I just stayed on the edge, and it was maddening, and amazing at the same time. If I wasn’t a Gooner before, I was an edging idiot now.
After a month, the porn I was watching now was the really extreme shit, and it disturbed me that that was what it was taking for me to become aroused. I had decided to rid myself of all my body hair, after my frustrated, beyond horny mind, thought it would be humiliating to do so. I stood in the shower and nearly went through an entire pack of disposable razors. It all had to go, legs, arms, pubes, everything.
I stood in the mirror, admiring how feminine now was. My breasts, which is all they could be called, looked incredibly sexy without my chest hair. I looked down at my tiny nub of a penis, my shriveled scrotum pulled up flush beneath, like I never had balls.
I wondered if I had lost my mind when I rummaged through the bin below the sink, finding the beard trimmer I had never used, and plugged it in. Without a thought, I began shaving my head. If I was going to be hairless, it was going to be all the way. Using the last of the razors, I took off what the trimmers had left behind, my glossy bald head reflecting back at me.
I never cleaned up the mess I left in the guest bathroom, running for my computer to see if I could finally squeeze out a successful come. I put on the most disgusting stuff I could manage to find and began to abuse my thimble-sized nub. I could feel it, it was coming, and it ultimately did. Suddenly I felt as though I was going to faint, and my hand grew wet with the watery liquid that seeped out of the tip of my penis.
I’d finally come, after weeks of trying in vain. Only then, did I realize what I’d done to myself. I was bald, bald, and completely shaved. A sudden fear crept over me. What would people say? What would Theresa say? All this in the quest for that one last come, and I was convinced that it certainly would be my last.
Theresa
“I’m really worried about him.” I sighed, as Jamal listened to my angst over the phone. “He just has this desperate look about him all the time now.”
“Well, what did you expect? You took away his manhood, baby. What did you think was going to happen?” Jamal reasoned. “You did reduce the dose as I told you, didn’t you?”
“Actually, I forgot. He’s been getting two of the pills a day.” I admitted.
“You’re joking. You better check him out a little closer next time you see him, and I mean naked.”
“Gross. I haven’t seen him that way for months, Jamal.” I said, angrily. “How am I going to explain my sudden interest?”
“Find a way. My friend warned me about too much of that stuff. Look, I just don’t want you to come home and find the guy in trouble, or worse.” Jamal voiced, concerned.
“Fine. I’ll check him out tonight.” I gave in. I had no interest in seeing my husband naked. All his oversexed shenanigans had really turned my stomach. Then again, who was I talk?
The BDSM thing between Jamal and I had grown as intense as it could and stay part-time. I was essentially his slave, and was outwardly submissive to him, even in public. He had gone so far as to lead me around on a leash through the grocery store. There had been other things, but that was the most humiliating, and the riskiest.
The Camry wasn’t in the driveway when I got home, and I began to get worried. Robert always arrived home before me. I set down my things and made my way upstairs.
I hadn’t been in the guest bedroom in some time, and the state of it was appalling. Aside from the smell, the place was a pigsty. The bed wasn’t made and the sheets had been stripped. It looked as though he had been sleeping on the bare mattress. I was surprised when I didn’t see a myriad of come stains. There just weren’t any.
Concerned now, I made my way out of the room and down the hall to the guest bathroom. I was shocked when I saw the floor covered with a scattering of black hair. The clippers he must have used were still on the edge of the sink. That was when I looked in the tub and saw the ring of hair around it.
“Jesus, what did he do, shave himself completely?” I said out loud.
“Yes.” A meek voice came from behind me.
Startled and even a little frightened, I stepped back from the stranger who stood in the doorway. I had never seen Robert with short hair let alone baldheaded. He looked ridiculous.
“Robert, for Christ’s sake. You look ridiculous.” It just came out. “What did they say at work?”
“Not a lot. A few of the women were kind and said it looked good on me, but I know they were laughing behind my back.” He admitted, but not upset, simply resigned.
“You still have your job?” I asked, tentatively.
“Oh, yeah. One of the bosses asked if I was alright, and I simply said I needed a change. That was as far as it went.” He explained.
“You need to clean this bathroom,” I demanded, shortly. I stopped just shy of saying anything about his bedroom. “I need you to strip, Robert.”
“What?” He said, surprised. “Why?”
“Let’s just say, I want to see what you did.” I lied. I supposed that being curious about him shaving all his body hair off was more attractive to him than: ‘I want to see what this drug I’ve been giving you has done’.
I could see a slight moment of hesitation before he agreed. I wondered if his penchant for humiliation was so strong that it overpowered any sense of shame he might have about me seeing him this way.
“I’ll wait in here while you go to your room. I want you naked when you come back.” Trying to play into his need for this. Nodding, he disappeared down the hall while I tried to prepare myself for what I was about to see.
My eyes practically fell out of my head when he stepped into the bathroom. Aside from being utterly hairless, the changes the drug had caused were beyond anything I could have imagined. I tried desperately to keep myself from laughing. I failed miserably.
