One Tiny Problem Pt. 02

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Author’s note: I didn’t plan on writing this sequel but the kudos and excellent ideas you wrote in the comments for part 1 were AMAZING, so I apologize for the delay–I’m excited to announce that here is PART 2! I tried to fold in everybody’s contributions since I’m still learning about this kink. Please feel free to send more and maybe it will become a series–he goes to college? Haha. I think #sphfansonly will get a kick out of the romp continuing. Poor, small Jake; in his exquisite embarrassment–why does the whole world need to learn about his secret problem? Note: set in high school, but everybody is 18+!

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It had been a few weeks since I examined Jake at Bergen Harris High but there was something about seeing him and his tiny dicklette that I couldn’t shake out of my head. I’d find myself eating lunch alone on those long cafeteria tables they have in the staff room, or even away from the high school out shopping in town–since I had recommitted myself to the town and the job I was trying to decorate my place and really settle in–and all I could see popping into my head was a picture of his athletic figure, so embarrassed, hunched over in a slouch with my finger up his ass, with his tiny stiff cock hard as nails and sticking out as far as the precious little thing could go, trembling, and not even reaching the exam table.

I giggled at that memory. Other men I’d examined–real men, I mean–would bend over the edge to let me stick my finger up their ass and when I peeked around their torsos I’d be impressed by a meaty cock laying flat on that crinkly white paper we roll over the exam tables or it would be a long “show-er” cock hanging down along their upper thigh. That always turned me on. Jake’s little penis could not even be called a cock; even fully erect it was just a bitty stub like a tiny thumb barely peeking out of his pubic hair and overshadowed by his enormous balls. It was such a ridiculous sight that I always laughed thinking about it.

I examined a number of the other guys at the school later that week after seeing Jake. Normal guys, I mean. Seniors at the high school. The wrestling team was a whole bunch of muscles and big cocks; Jesus, that was an afternoon. My panties were soaked after running all of those guys through the wringer. I think the earlier ones had it easier because I didn’t hit my stride until later in the day when I got comfortable whipping off their boxers and wrapping my hands around their equipment.

None of them complained and I even got appreciative looks the more hands-on I went in the penis and testicular exam. They were all normal, horny high school guys with hefty, raw dicks and I was a fresh young lady doctor so it was a simple equation. I bet if I had wanted to bend some medical ethics I could have had a few of the more choice, bigger-cocked guys give me a fucking right there at the high school doctor office.

Bigger is definitely better. I need to feel the deep pressure on every thrust and be forced to bend my hips in order to take it all; God, I love that. I want a man to take control of me, fuck me hard and give me what I deserve. Jake’s a nice guy and all, sure; and I wouldn’t mind having coffee with him like I would with one of my girlfriends, but having sex would be an exercise in trying not to laugh the whole time. I’m not even sure if I would feel his cock if he missed my hole entirely and rubbed one out on my thigh. It’d be like when one of those little barky dogs comes up at the park and grinds on your ankle with its tiny doggy dick.

I’d try to be nice though, like, “Good, Jake! Good little boy. Did you cum? I didn’t notice. You sure tried, didn’t you?” And then I’d pat his head and tousle his hair and give him a peck on the cheek and send him on the way; then as he was getting into his car and I was waving goodbye, with the other hand I’d already be dialing up one of the wrestling studs to get my brains fucked out properly by a dick I could actually see and grab hold of.

The phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts. It was a Saturday night and I had just finished a killer workout, sitting in sweat-soaked clothes on my ass at the dinner table trying to figure out what to make myself to eat, or if I should order something. And then where to go for the evening. Was there a suitable bar? Fantasies of supple young high school jocks aside, I hadn’t actually gotten fucked yet in this town, or for months before that. That was one of the items on my agenda, to remedy that problem. At some point.

The phone rang again and I reluctantly answered.

“Doctor?” The voice was urgent. A young woman’s voice. I thought I recognized it.

“Yes, this is Dr. Netten.”

“This is Mary Sue. You know, from Bergen Harris. Jake’s girlfriend.” Ah, that’s who it was. I met her the week after I saw Jake. She came to seek counsel about their relationship, and from that I learned more about the small penis humiliation kink than I ever learned in med school. It was educational.

She was excited, speaking maraş escort bayan fast. Out of breath, even.

“Jake’s on the floor. He hit his fucking head or something.”

“Jake? Where are you? At your house?”

“Yes.”

“Mary Sue. Listen. You need to phone 911.”

There was silence. “I can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“My parents are gone. They’ll kill me.”

Fuck, I thought.

“Mary Sue! He’s breathing, right? You’ve checked that? If he’s not breathing you gotta phone 911 right now!”

“Hang on.” I heard her yelling to someone. I waited. I heard other sounds. Music and lots of voices, although they were subdued. Seemed like this accident happened at a party.

“Yeah, he’s breathing. He might be unconscious, though… wait–” More muffled conversation with somebody there. “No, he’s moving. He put his hand to his head.”

I sighed to myself. Teenagers don’t have enough perspective of the trade-offs in life. Don’t wait! Just fucking phone 911. If it was a party, which given a Saturday night it had to be, alcohol or even more was probably involved.

“You can’t just call an ambulance? If he’s hurt… Mary Sue, I’m sure your parents–“

“Can you come here?” She interrupted.

“What?”

“Can you come to look at him?”

“Mary Sue. I’m not trained in emergency medicine. I work at a high school.”

“But you would know what to do, right? To make sure he’s okay?”

“Well, sure. I know the basics.”

“You’ve got to come over then. 1240 Evanmeer. The street behind the school. It’s close, right?”

“Well, yes, I know where that is. It’s just 10 minutes. But–“

“Please come, Dr. Netten. You gotta make sure he’s okay.”

I thought for a minute, shaking my head. It was against every part of my better judgment but for some reason with her pleading and my fond memory of Jake I found myself agreeing. I didn’t want to think of the liability. That was sort of a black hole of worry for any medical professional and it’s best not to even start your brain getting into all the ways it could go wrong and fuck you over. I saw the headlines: Not even one month into job do-gooder doctor causes death in town… Oh my God.

“Mary Sue. If I find anything wrong with him–anything at all–we call 911 or get him to the ER right away. Agreed?”

“Okay…” It was her sulky teen voice agreeing only because she had to.

“1240, right?”

“Yes. Thank you! We’ll send somebody out there.”

I hung up. Well. That was set. It sure put an unexpected twist on a boring Saturday night.

Two seconds of staring at the wall wondering the fuck did I get myself into–then I jumped in a hustle to grab my keys and throw on some decent pants and jacket and shoes. Julie, going to a high school party? I teased myself. I wasn’t that far out of high school myself, and there was a knot forming in my stomach. I remember the social pressures, the awkwardness of it all. Guys and girls, all the flirting and fumbling and watching of each other and judging. I hoped to just get in there, make sure Jake was okay, maybe give him a bandage or some placebo, and get the hell back to my normal, simple and safe life.

Wait–that reminded me. The first aid box. Where’d I put it? Garage… there it was. And stacked on top of it was the package that came last week from Amazon. Fuck. The stupid package that I hadn’t even opened. Absolute impulse purchase after that afternoon with Mary Sue. I don’t even know why I had that impulse. Maybe it was serendipity. Maybe the universe was telling me something. But in any case I grabbed it along with the first aid and ran to the car.

I drove as fast as I could without risking getting pulled over. Jake… Jake… Jake.

What did you do to yourself at Mary Sue’s house? Was she drunk and making you do something humiliating so she could make fun of your lack of dick and then you slipped and fell? Am I going to find you naked with your little nub tied up in a string attached to some other poor kid’s tiny dick in some crazy hazing? I grinned. I’d immersed myself in learning about Jake’s kink the past couple weeks. And I had that package in the back seat. What urge led me to bring that, anyway? Jesus Christ.

But when I got to Mary Sue’s living room there he was in ordinary clothes and in an ordinary pose, in the middle of a normal party. Still on the floor and holding his head but sitting by the sofa. The place was stuffed full of partygoers, each one holding one of those stupid red Solo plastic cups that seem to be a requirement when any young person drinks.

Yes, indeed! Mary Sue was taking advantage of her parents being out of town. Every senior in high school must have been there. At least all the cool ones, judging by the athletic guys who met me at the street corner and guided me in. I recognized a few wrestlers, I thought, but didn’t have time to think about the bulges in their pants.

“Jake! Jake!” I said, crouching down next to him trying to get his maraş escort attention. His head was at an angle, slumped so he was staring at the carpet, eyes barely cracked open. I looked at the students standing around him. “Has he spoken yet?”

“Dr. Netten?” He said before anyone could answer that, opening his eyes wider and straightening his head, looking at me. “What… what are you doing here? Where am I? Mary Sue?”

“You’re still at the party. Mary Sue’s party. She’s here.”

Mary Sue was smiling in huge relief. “Jake. I’m right here. You fell and hit your head.”

“What…?” he said, still confused.

“I’m going to measure your pulse.” I put one finger on his wrist and another on his forehead where there was a vicious red mark. He slumped back against the couch and took in the wider situation of the room. Not much bleeding, though, thank God.

“He’s okay?” a voice asked nearby. Other voices chimed in, as the news spread. One shouted out to the wider group and in almost immediate reaction normal party noises started ramping back up. Mary Sue leaned in and gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. That was sweet to see.

“What the fuck happened?” he asked her in wonder, and pointing to me added, “And how did she get here?”

“I asked her to come. I didn’t want to phone 911.”

Jake looked at his girlfriend, remembering. “It was the bat spin, right? I remember your last challenge.”

Mary Sue laughed. “Yeah, sorry about that. It was the coffee table you hit. Right on the fucking head.”

But I needed some more information before I turn lighthearted about this. “Jake, how much have you drunk tonight?”

He shrugged.

Mary Sue chimed in. “Not that much. Really. I think he had three beers maybe? Four?”

“He wasn’t showing signs of impairment before he fell?”

“No. We were just playing this dumb game with the baseball bat. Not hitting anybody, I mean, just spinning around over and over and then you try to walk but you’re all dizzy. I’m so happy he’s okay. Right? He is?”

“No drugs. Just tell me, I need to know. I won’t judge.”

“No. Nothing tonight.”

“Well, he looks okay to me as far as I can tell. Jake, you look fine. Stand up for me now, if you feel up to it.”

I held his hands as he gathered himself and stood up. Just a touch shaky but nothing I was overly concerned about.

“You should get a CAT scan to check for concussion if you want to go by the book. But it’s probably okay to wait to see. No more drinking tonight, though. Even if you start to feel better in an hour. Stay off of it, okay? Because if you throw up that’s a sign of concussion. I think if you throw up three times in a certain time period, like an hour.”

“Okay, Doc. I’ll make sure he behaves,” Mary Sue said, showing responsibility. I was glad to see her genuine concern, that Jake wasn’t only a small penis joke to her. The crowd around us had begun to dissipate. “It’s my speciality,” she added in a whisper to me and laughed. I ignored that and thought about what to do next.

“Mary Sue, why don’t you and I get him to the bathroom and I can clean up that cut.”

She nodded. I held onto Jake’s elbow to steady him. He seemed good enough to walk mostly by himself.

Then I contradicted myself. “Actually, I’ll take him–just show me where; and can you run out to my car? In the back seat I have a first aid kit.”

The cut was easy to clean, nothing dramatic. I was surprised that it knocked Jake out like that especially with him being a big time football player and all. He must have had a lot of experience getting hit. But sometimes just a particular, random angle of a blow can do it.; the sharp edge of a coffee table. He was coming back to life.

Mary Sue carried in two boxes when she returned. “You mean these?” she asked. I hadn’t labeled my first aid kit; it was just an old box that I stuffed things I thought might be useful in an emergency, including my stethoscope. But she’d grabbed the other box as well, my recent Amazon delivery, and when I saw that I panicked. Fuck, now it’s in here, in Mary Sue’s house. But I tried not to show it.

“This one, yes,” I said calmly, opening the box and putting the scope around my neck.

“Jake, take your shirt off for me.”

Mary Sue and I both watched the delicious sight of this beautiful 18-year old slowly pulling his shirt up and over his head. First his abs then his beautiful, muscular torso came into view, flat brown disc nipples tight against his pecs. I sighed. If only he had the cock to match.

“Good. Now breathe normally.” I put the scope up against the wall of his chest. The heartbeat was strong and regular. Mary Sue held his hand and he looked forward.

“That’s fine. I think we’re done here,” I said. “You can go back to the party. Just remember, take it easy. No more drinking.” I waggled my finger back and forth in front of his face. He watched me and nodded obediently. He was like a good dog, well behaved. Mary Sue had escort maraş trained him well.

“Doctor?” This was from Mary Sue.

“Please, just call me Julie. I’m not here as a professional. Just a friend.”

“Okay. Julie. But that’s weird to call you that,” and she laughed nervously. “Look, thanks a lot for coming over. I’m so glad you checked him out.”

Checked him out in more ways than you know, I thought, thinking back to when he attempted to masturbate in my office with his tiny little hard dick and I finished the job. His cum shot all over the floor of the exam room there at the high school. I wonder if he told her about that episode; I didn’t think so based on our chat the following week. She had wanted to know about the small penis kinks and if it was normal; I of course counseled her that as long as both parties consented that it was fine, and fantasies were a healthy and good part of any relationship.

She looked at me, then at her shirtless boyfriend who was still staring in kind of a recovery daze. “Julie, why don’t you stay? At the party, I mean. My parents don’t come back until tomorrow.”

I was surprised. “Oh, I should get back and let you guys do your thing.”

“But it would be fun. Don’t you need to stay an hour or two to check on Jake, anyway? What if he starts throwing up or whatever you said. Concussion stuff.”

She actually had a point. But it still felt awkward. I had bad memories from high school parties and wasn’t sure that I would be any more confident now, seven years later. Sometimes we don’t really grow out of those core insecurities even if we fool ourselves that we do; we just don’t challenge ourselves as much when we get older.

“Look, it’s nice of you, but honestly I would feel out of place.”

“At a party, you mean? How old are you anyway? You look super young. How did you get to be a doctor already?”

“I’m twenty-four. I did like… a special program. Out of high school.”

“Fuck,” Jake interjected in a soft voice, listening to this exchange.

“You’re only twenty-four? And you’re a doctor? A real doctor?” I nodded. She said again, not believing, “Twenty-four? Half the people here are from LSU; bunch of them are older than you!”

“I don’t know if it would be proper, though, you know… ” I was running out of excuses.

“Stay! Please. For me? It’s been stressful tonight, with this. It will be fun. Just to hang out and have a drink. It’s… what did you say? It’s proper. It’s not like you’re going to fuck anybody. Right?”

I looked at both of them, unsure. Jake stretched with his arms way up high, tilting his head back and forth to flex his neck. I was glad to see him feeling better, getting back to his normal athletic self. When he did that, I saw what looked like the top hem of delicate pink panties peeking out of his jeans. What the fuck? Mary Sue saw me look and grinned.

“That’s, uh… part of a game we’re playing,” she offered.

“Mary Sue!” said Jake in surprise, pulling his arms down and his pants up to cover.

“She knows, honey. Remember I talked to her about it. She said it was normal. That we can do it as part of our relationship. As long as we both consent.”

Jake blushed furiously. I was curious about the pink panties. Since I wasn’t acting in a professional capacity anymore and they had even invited me to their weekend party I felt like I could push a little here.

“Is that a punishment?” I asked. With a little grin, I suppose.

“Pink panties. Girlie ones.” She looked smug, and from that I guessed it was her idea and she was obviously proud of it. “He has to wear them for the whole week. The same pair all week so he’d better keep them clean. It’s going to be tough in the locker room changing in front of all the other guys, right? The guys with big dicks. He’s going to have to cover his ass real carefully. Do guys still get beat up for shit like that?”

“Fuck…” he said, looking down in embarrassment. I bet he remembered when he exposed his tiny dick to me and I laughed at it. I felt bad, but it was so funny. I couldn’t help it.

“Do they know about this?” I asked, honestly curious. “Your friends, and your teammates?”

“What part do you mean?” she asked. “His tiny dick or the games we play?”

I noticed that he looked glum that we had lit into this topic.

“Sorry, I think I’ve overstepped. I shouldn’t have asked,” I said, contrite. Mary Sue was still enthusiastic, though; eager to talk about her boyfriend’s tiny dick problem. She continued answering.

“My friends don’t know about it. At least I didn’t tell them. Jake, you think guys know how small you are?”

Jake really put on a frown. “Why are we talking about my dick?”

I thought I could help Jake out by changing the subject. “Okay, Mary Sue. I’ll stay tonight. At the party. Thank you for the invite. I have a request though.”

“Yes!” she said, thrilled to have convinced me. She seemed eager for my friendship which was a bit awkward for me given our respective roles at the high school, but here on a weekend it seemed easier to let it happen. “Sure, anything.”

“I’m sweaty as hell. I just got back from yoga when you called. Can I shower here?”

“Sure, of course. I didn’t know we had yoga classes in Baton Rouge.”

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