Little Red Pill Ch. 01

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((Welcome, dear readers, to my latest big idea/homoerotic fantasy. I have been laying out parts of this story in my head for a long time, and just recently began putting it to the keyboard. It’s definitely a broader arching tale than I’ve ever tackled before, and I’ve found myself struggling with how to break it up and release it. I’ve decided to separate it into more manageable chapters to be released periodically.

I’ve already written several chapters in advance, and I promise I have a clear path and ending in mind if you are patient enough to stick with me. This first chapter is especially long, maybe even a little too long to be considered a single “chapter.” However, I found myself with a lot of setting up to do before I could get to the sexier, juicier parts to the story that I had in mind. I decided to stretch Chapter 1 out long enough to include the first sexual “payoff” in the story, just to let you all know that I mean business. I promise the sexy stuff will come more fast and furiously in chapters to come. Thanks for reading! Please leave me comments- I’m always thrilled to hear from people getting off on something I’ve written. So, without further ado…))


My first day of summer vacation started promptly at 8:00 am to the sound of the Pokemon cartoon theme belting out of my iPhone. The tune brought me none of the joy that it had in my adolescence as I slapped around my nightstand blindly to silence the alarm without unearthing my head from the pillow.

The exuberant singer was just declaring their certainty in their destiny when I finally succeeded in hitting the snooze. As near-silence was restored to my childhood bedroom, save for the woosh of the desk fan in the corner that I slept with on, more for the comforting white noise than to cool off, I contemplated drifting off and sleeping away the morning. Maybe even stay dead to the world into the afternoon, if I was lucky. Such was my mood.

But of course, I could never do that. Because my dear mother, bless her soul, had taken it upon herself to schedule me a routine check-up and physical at the family doctor at 9:00 am. On the first day of Summer vacation. Yay.

A bigger rebel would have just said ‘fuck it’ and stayed in bed if they had a doctor’s appiontment they didn’t want to attend. But not me. Not Noah Warner. I was too much of a goody-two-shoes. As tempting as the thought of skipping the whole thing was, once I started imagining the doctor’s receptionist calling to say I’d missed the appointment, my mom finding out and making a big deal of it, wanting to reschedule, wanting to drive me there herself this time, I decided it would just be easier to get up and get it over with now.

The check-ups had been a yearly routine affair forever now. Ever since a particularly bad case of meningitis in middle school landed me in the hospital, my over-protective mother has insisted I follow up with yearly checkups with our family physician. Despite the fact that I’d been in perfect health every year since.

With one last unintelligible grumble, I rolled out of bed and bumbled out of the room in my underwear down the hall to get in the shower, not needing to worry about running into anyone. I was an only child and my mom would already be gone to work.

It was once I’d gotten in the shower and started washing up under the hot spray that I was reminded of just why I was in such a piss-poor mood to start off the summer. It was the awful way that my freshman year in college had ended that had put me in this funk. And as was usually the case, I was reminded of the details precisely when I began washing my crotch.

Okay, here goes the big confession. Or should I say, small confession? Ha, I’m hilarious. Anyway, what I’m trying to get at, is, I have a small penis.

There. I said it. And before you even try comforting me with your ‘Oh honey, everyone thinks their dick is small, but the average erect male penis is actually about five and a half inches,’ save it! I know how google works, I’ve done the research. It just so happens that in my case, when I started noticing how big the other guys were and I panicked and ran home to do my research, I wasn’t comforted to learn that I was actually pretty average. Nope, I was actually pretty below average.

3 and 7/8 inches on the tape measure I got from the toolbox under the kitchen sink to be exact. And don’t act like it’s weird that I measured. I know I’m not the only one that has. And I routinely kept measuring, hanging on to the hope that maybe I was a really late bloomer. Maybe I wasn’t done growing down there. I’d never been a particularly hairy dude, so anything was possible, I reasoned. But no, shy of 4 inches was where I stayed.

I’ll admit, it became a secret obsession of mine. Something that affected many aspects of my life. I’d always been a pretty attractive guy. A little on the small scrawny side, kind of more dorky than into playing sports, but nevertheless, I think I was generally seen by the girls gaziantep bayan eskort as being ‘cute.’ Said cuteness, along with my wit and humor, would have allowed me to easily land a girlfriend. My size hang up, however, led me to spend most of my High School time in self imposed isolation.

I wasn’t brave enough to change that until Senior Prom when I was 18. I had dated this girl, Michelle, most of senior year. I could tell she was ready. I was definitely ready. We were both adults now, and I was almost convinced she cared for me enough that my penis size wouldn’t matter.

Well, it turns out love is a lie. Or that, at least, Michelle was a whore. We had what I assumed was our mutual fumbling around first time in a dark hotel room after the dance. It was a quick heavy breathing affair for me, and I was almost able to chalk up the “is it in yet?” question to Michelle’s nervousness and inexperience.

A few days after prom I worked up the courage to try again with her. This time in the afternoon, in my bedroom while my mom was at work. Even with the blinds closed it was impossible to keep my room as dark as I would have wanted.

Michelle was nice enough to try and go down on me, at least. Her lips around my little shaft felt so good I was afraid it’d be over before it started and had to make her stop and lay down.

Halfway through me humping away on top of her, the bitch actually started laughing. She said she honestly couldn’t feel anything and admitted I was by far the smallest guy she’d ever been with. This devastated me on multiple levels. Not only was she pointing out my diminutive size, but I was under the impression that we were each other’s firsts. Apparently I was far from her’s.

So we broke up, and I spent the entire summer on a crazy fitness and workout kick. By the middle of August I was a strange mix of a fit looking jock who was actually more into video games and nerd culture than I was into organized sports. I mean, I didn’t look like a body builder, but it was enough to somewhat repair my ruined self esteem. I was actually pretty happy with my body, as long as no one saw me with my pants off, I was golden.

It was in this shape that I headed across state for my freshman year at the State University that fall. Again my little willy fears dictated my life, as I insisted I needed a dorm room to myself. Whatever bullshit reasons I gave were enough to convince my mom and the school, but in reality the only reason was so that I never had to change in front of my roommate. If I was careful and stuck to odd times of the day, the showers in the dorm bathrooms were individually curtained off and I was never caught out in the common area of the bathroom without a towel on.

Despite my tiny wiener hang up, I was actually able to build up a healthy social life on campus. It was easy to find guys into the same kind of pop culture I was into, and even easier for me to be the best looking option in all of those social groups. I basically had first pick of any available females. I eventually set my sights on Casey, and we were exclusively dating by Winter break.

I was able to keep things above the clothes with Casey well into the Spring semester. But after quite a few nights of heavy petting that went no where, it was evident that I was giving not only myself, but Casey, a serious case of metaphorical blue balls, and I was going to have to give up the goods.

As far as I could tell, things went considerably better than they had with Michelle. After our first time, we actually both said the 3 scariest words, ‘I love you.’ We continued on together up until the end of spring semester. My lack of a roommate came in handy as we always had a place to hook up. I’ll admit, I probably spent too much time pleasuring Casey orally, but she didn’t seem to mind. She never mentioned my penis size, or lack-there-of, and I was grateful for that.

That is, up until the night before the end of the semester, when we would both be moving back home to opposite sides of the state for the summer.

The night started like many others. Casey snuck into my dorm room to spend our last night together for at least a few weeks until we could figure out a way for one of us to make it out to the other’s hometown for a visit in the summer.

Casey had an overnight bag with her, and after wearing my jaw out between her legs for a solid 40 minutes, I was ready to climb ontop of her and stick my hard, albeit little, guy inside her, when she scooted away from me on the bed.

“Hold on a minute,” she panted, breathless from my mouthwork.

Reaching into her bag beside the bed, she proceeded to pull out what I can only describe as a hefty black silicone replica of an erect male penis.

“I thought you could maybe use this on me tonight,” she suggested coyly, maybe even a bit embarrassed.

My jaw dropped, barely comprehending that my girlfriend had just pulled a large black dildo out of nowhere.

“What is that?” I asked, dumbly.

“Uhhm.. it’s a dildo, silly.”

“Yes I know it’s a dildo, I mean- ehrm… where did it come from?”

“Oh! This here is Titus! I keep him in my dorm room. I use him to, you know… get me off. I figured we could use it to get me off together before we have to leave each other tomorrow.”

I felt a sudden sinking feeling in my gut, as well as any stiffness in my minuscule member fading as I contemplated the implications of the revealing of Titus.

Stupidly, my mouth opened and I asked what I knew I shouldn’t. What I already knew the answer of.

“Why would we need to use Titus to get you off?”

I saw the awkward look of embarrassment and pity wash over Casey’s face and instantly regretted opening my mouth.

“Oh honey…”

What followed was a much nicer version of the talk I’d had with Michelle the previous year. In so many words, Casey explained how I just wasn’t big enough to satisfy her sexually. We didn’t actually break up, but it was clear we weren’t really going to be keeping in close communication over Summer Break. It hurt more than Michelle, because I actually thought there was some mutual love between us. Regardless, I was so embarrassed that I doubted I’d ever be able to speak with Casey again.

And that’s how my Freshman year of college ended.

I snapped out of my thoughts and realized the shower water was getting cold and that I was going to be late for my unwanted doctor’s appointment.

I managed to dry off, get dressed and get out the door to make it across town to the doctor’s office by 8:55. I don’t know why I was in such a rush not to be late. I basically made it there five minutes early to sit in the waiting room for twenty.

It gave me just enough time to sit and think about how much I didn’t feel like going through this pointless check-up today. Good old Dr. Adams, who was probably about 70 by now, would go through his usual rigmarole; check my height and weight, look at my eyes and ears, hit my knee cap with a hammer to test my reflexes, listen to my breathing and heartbeat through my chest, ask me how my mom was doing and send me on my way saying he’d see me next year. Oh, and of course I couldn’t forget the part where he’d make me drop my pants so he could fondle my testicles and tell me to cough so he could presumably check me for a hernia. I always got the sneaking suspicion that the old fart was just looking for an excuse to play with my balls. Hey, at least in all the years I’d been going through his physicals, he’d had the decency to never comment on my penis size. Although I was still mortified every time he told me to drop my pants that this was going to be the time he’d make a snide remark.

I was just imagining myself standing there with my shorts around my ankles and old Dr. Adam’s sitting on a little stool in front of me commenting, “So I see you’ve been working out, son. Is that to distract the ladies from your incredibly small johnson, here?” when the nurse receptionist opened the door between the waiting room and the examination rooms and called my name. I noted that it wasn’t the same nurse that I remembered from previous years, who was kind of overweight, but very nice. This girl was actually pretty hot.

She led me back to one of the little examination rooms and took my height and weight. Still 5’10” like last year and the year before that. I was up a few pounds at 160, but that was all in muscle from my recent workout kick. She took my blood pressure, and then finished updating my patient chart with a series of questions, all with boring answers that really hadn’t changed from last year.

As she headed for the door she informed me “Dr. Curtis will be in to finish the examination shortly.”

Wait, who? Before she could completely leave the room, I stopped her, confused.

“Wait, who’s Dr. Curtis? What happened to Dr. Adams?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t know? Dr. Adams is in the process of retiring. Dr. Curtis has begun filling in and taking over most of Dr. Adams’ patients. But don’t worry, Dr. Curtis is great. You’ll really like him!” She winked and then was gone, pulling the door shut behind her.

A lot of the anxiety upon hearing there was a new doctor abated when the nurse had said I’d like HIM. At least I wouldn’t be whipping out my little dick for a female stranger. However, it was a stranger nonetheless, which didn’t sit completely well with me.

My nerves grew on me the longer I sat on the exam table with the annoying crinkly-noise-making paper under me and waited. I actually almost jumped when there was finally a quick knock on the door and a man in an open white lab coat with stylishly tight fitting dress clothes underneath entered the room and closed the door behind him. He picked up the clipboard with my charts on it off the counter, consulting it briefly before approaching me on the table and extending a hand.

“Noah? I’m Dr. Curtis. It’s great to meet you.” He flashed a winning smile revealing perfect straight white teeth, and I took his offered hand for a rather firm shake.

My first impression of him was that he reminded me of one of those ridiculously handsome twenty-something doctors on all the medical dramas my mom was always watching on TV. I wanted to hate him right off the bat, but he gave off some intangible likable vibe, like we were old buddies and not strangers meeting for the first time.

He was giving my chart another glance over as he stood in front of me at the exam table.

“Hmmm, Noah Warner, 19, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t drink, not on any medications, your numbers going back 6 or 7 years all look perfect,” he glanced up from the chart to me again, “You look like a healthy guy to me. So what brings you to me on this lovely summer morning, my man?”

Something about his piercing blue eyes had me bumbling in my head for a moment for a response. Why was Dr. McSteamy over here getting in my head? I was usually quicker than this, even with a hot girl.

“Erhm.. well… My moms a bit over protective, I guess. Me being her World and all. She makes me come for a check-up every year.”

Dr. Dreamy-Eyes smirked conspiratorially, “Ahhh, I see. Doin’ it for mom. I can respect that. Well, in that case, lets run through the rest of this exam real quick so we can put ma’s mind at ease and get you out of here until next year, eh?”

I nodded dumbly in agreement and Dr. Curtis went to work with the usual routine of checking my reflexes, shining a light in my eyes and ears. He had me pull up my shirt so he could listen to me take deep breaths through his stethoscope on my back, and listen to my heart through my chest.

“Someone’s got a kickass workout routine,” he offhandedly commented while my shirt was still pulled up, in a way that somehow put me at ease rather than weird me out.

Then came the moment I’d been dreading in the back of my head since the second I’d arrived at the office.

“Alright Noah, just about finito here. Just jump up off that table for me and drop your shorts down and I’ll check your boys out real quick.”

I tried my hardest to hide my apprehension as I slid off the exam table to my feet and fumbled with the buckle of my belt. Dr. Curtis sat himself down on a wheeled stool and slid in close as I took a deep breath, stared off towards the wall behind his head and yanked my khaki shorts and boxer-briefs down in one motion, letting them slide down my legs to my ankles.

I expected his gloved hands to be cold like Dr. Adams’, but they turned out to actually be warm as he quickly cupped one ball, rolled it around in his fingers and told me to cough while he rested his other hand on my lower abdomen. He repeated the process with the other, and then I felt him pinch my shriveled little shaft between two fingers and move it briefly from one side to the other before letting it go. The odd thought crossed my mind about how embarrassing it would be for me to pop a boner right then. Before I could dwell on that strange thought any longer, the doc was telling me it was okay to pull my pants back up and have a seat again.

“Perfect, Noah. No signs of any hernias or any lumps that would indicate cancer. You’re gonna want to examine the boys just like that regularly in the shower, looking for any lumps or tender spots.”

Again I found myself nodding stupidly. He marked a few more notes on my charts while I sat there twiddling my thumbs with my feet dangling off the side of the examination table, awkwardly ready to be dismissed from the ridiculously handsome man who had just fondled my dangley bits.

“I couldn’t help but notice, Noah, that you appear to be smaller than average in penis size.”

I nearly choked on my own heart leaping into my throat as I tried to respond to that, “-Jesus, dude… is that- do we really have to-” I felt my cheeks instantly reddening.

I couldn’t believe it. I get shit from my ex-girlfriends for it and now my doctor was gonna roast me about my penis size? I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t think of the words to finish what I was saying. I was too stunned, even, to hop off the table and walk out.

“No, no, bud. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about or anything! Now, we’re not going to get out a ruler and measure or anything, but under 5 inches erect is considered small. Would you say you fit into that category?”

I honestly couldn’t tell anymore if he was putting me on or not. I detected no humor in his voice. He sounded genuine and sincere. My eyes narrowed nonetheless.

“Why? Does that go on my chart somewhere?”

The doctor looked concerned by my accusatory reaction. He closed my chart on the clipboard and held up his hand to indicate he wasn’t writing anything down.

“Not at all. I’m sorry, Noah. It’s not going on your chart or anything like that. But, I can clearly see I’ve struck a nerve and that leads me to believe this might be an issue you are struggling with.”

I felt some of the anger leave my body, and my shoulders sagged in defeat as I thought back to my most recent troubles with Casey back at school.

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