Never the Same Again

Tanner had understood right away that I was serious about blackmailing him, and that he was powerless to stop me. I had the humiliating photos and videos revealing his near-micropenis and lack of sexual prowess, artifacts that would emasculate and haunt him for the rest of his life. I viewed the situation as a means to escape my unconditional devotion to Tanner, to get over my crush. He would do whatever I said, follow me wherever I led, submit to my every whim -- it was a complete reversal of the dynamic we'd had for the past four years. And when I was devoted to Tanner, he didn't even have dirt on me.

The truth was, I would never actually publish the photos. I was bluffing. As mad as I was with Tanner in the moment, I could sympathize with his plight, and almost excuse his bigoted outburst. I knew he never would have sad the F-slur in other scenarios, and my attempting to cuddle and comfort him just unhappily coincided with the "anger" stage of his grief. But he deserved to be punished for it, and then punished some more for steamrolling me over the years. Or so I kept telling myself, an uneasy feeling growing all the same.

I knew we would not be friends at the end of whatever came next. But then, I had no idea where or what we would be by the end of this trip. Having tacitly come out to Tanner, I figured things would change beyond my control. At least now I had the control.

"I'm glad we have an understanding," I told Tanner, my arm still around his bare shoulders, my hand still intertwined with his chest hair. I paused for a moment, taking in the glory of it all. Tanner had gone from the center of my universe to a plaything for my amusement. My cock began to twitch. "I'd like to see your clit again. I think we both could use a laugh."

"Wh--what?" Tanner stuttered. My hand on his chest, I could feel his heart start to pound even harder.

"Look, I've already seen it all and then some. Why be so modest?"

Tanner huffed, but still stood up to disrobe. "As if you have some monster cock."

"I don't," I admitted. "Also, you're going to want to start watching your tone with me."

With an aggravated flourish, Tanner yanked his shorts and boxer briefs down to his ankles. His bald little dicklet wiggled from the motion. The way his happy trail now abruptly ended above milky, smooth skin was quite comical. I chuckled and Tanner blushed. He was almost like some sort of centaur, now: all man from the waist up, sissy boy below.

"Don't be shy," I told him. "Fold those up and put them away for the night."

As he bent over his bag, I got my first good look at Tanner's naked ass. It was flat, almost totally in line with his back, but round and plump at the bottom. The same light brown hair that covered (most of) the rest of him radiated out from his ass crack. His cheeks spread some, and I got a quick glimpse at the tight starfish of his asshole, surrounded by a nest of coarse hair. My cock was fully erect now.

Tanner returned to stand at his side of the bed, facing me as if waiting for further instruction. For a few beats, I just drank him in. I found myself still infatuated, if not more so than before, and knew I would still get a thrill out of his body for a while before feeling satisfied and ready to move on.

I went over to my bag and stripped off my jeans, then my boxers. I waited for a moment to build suspense, gave my already-stiff erection a quick tug for good measure, and then turned around to face Tanner.

His eyes widened into saucers. Even though I had been giving myself a hard time, fully erect, my cock was a still a respectable six inches, if barely. It had been closer to seven about 25 pounds ago, and going from slightly above average to just average had been a blow to my ego. Still impressive, however, were my nuts -- large and plump low-hangers that were honestly usually more trouble than they were worth (tight, sexy underwear hurt them, they usually dunked into toilet water, etc.) But they were serving me well in that moment. A regular guy probably wouldn't have batted an eye at my junk, as normal as it was, but for Tanner I may as well have been a porn star.

To my surprise, Tanner's dick sprung into an erection. I was again taken aback by how fast it took for his little cock to get fully hard -- a matter of seconds. "Like what you see?" I asked.

"I--I really don't know," Tanner confessed. "I don't think I've ever seen another dude's boner in real life before."

I pretended to stretch, arching my back and thrusting my cock out for full effect. "I have a question for you... Have you always known you were abnormally small?"

"I knew I was smaller than, like, the guys you see in porn. And I saw guys in the locker room and stuff, but never hard, and -- I just figured I was a grower and most other dudes were showers." He rubbed his face, distress growing. "But after tonight... and seeing those pictures..."

"I see. And let's address your, uh, less than impressive stamina."

"I mean, I don't last for

forever

, y'know? But back there, there was just so much going on -- the crowd, the bondage, the teasing -- I was, overstimulated, I guess. And I told you this morning, I came three times last night with Inga. I didn't have a lot of spunk left."

"But with balls that small... I can't imagine you produce all that much under the best of circumstances." He hung his head in shameful acknowledgement. "Do you please women?"

"It's not about the size of the boat, it's the motion of the--"

"Come to think of it," I cut him off, rolling my eyes, "you hook up with a lot of girls, but I can't think of a single repeat. No one comes back for more?"

Tanner grew redder. "At least I

get

laid."

"Tanner," I warned, my tone as if I were scolding a child, "watch your tongue. Don't forget your place. Now that I'm out of the closet--look, the only thing holding me back was being afraid of what

you

would think. I'm ready to make up for lost time, now."

"I'm sorry," he said, a genuine tone slipping through, "That you felt that way, I mean. I meant what I said, earlier. You're still my -- I wouldn't have cared, if you came out, before."

"Yeah, well," I grunted. "It's gonna take a while to recover from you using that word earlier. You're

going

to make up for that." A let a wry grin slip across my face. I was surprising even myself with the authority in my voice, the power. "And just think," I added, lying back down on top of the covers, "none of this would have happened if we had gone to Rome instead."

"Oh, Jesus," he moaned, lying down next to me. "Is

that

what this is all about? Seriously?"

"It's about the hundreds of Rome's before this, Tan. It's about how every morning we've been here you've announced what we were going to do for the day, not asked, not discussed. You've known I was putty in your hands, and you abused it. We both knew who was in charge. Now it's my turn."

"Very well," said Tanner, and he rolled over on his side, facing me. "What's next, then?" I was confused by Tanner's overall reaction to the past half hour. He was obviously angry and unhappy about the situation, but he wasn't putting up all that much of a fight.

He still trusted me, I realized, even now.

"What's next is we get some shut-eye," I told him, turning onto my side to look back into his cerulean eyes. For a fraction of a second as I rolled, my erection brushed up against his thigh. "It's been a long night."

***

I woke up on my own the next morning around six. Tanner was snoring loudly, fast asleep in the fetal position -- his genitals were buried between his legs, giving him the striking appearance of having a shaved pussy.

I lay staring up at the ceiling, absentmindedly playing with my morning wood. I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, awake for hours after Tanner slipped unconscious, my mind racing with ideas and plotting my next moves. With the clarity of a few hours' sleep, I had settled on a course of action.

Quietly, I got out of bed, wrapped my towel around my waist, and went to take a quick shower. It was closer to seven when I returned to the room, and Tanner was still fast asleep. He was splayed out across the bed now, face up, his soft cock pointing straight up at the ceiling. It was the only penis I had ever seen that didn't dangle, didn't hang so much as it protruded.

I got dressed, slipping on a black polo and tan shorts, putting the luggage lock back on my bag when I was done. I had invested in an expensive, sturdy one to keep my belongings safe while staying in the hostel's communal bedroom.

I picked up a few pieces of Tanner's clothing that had fallen onto the floor and sealed everything in his bag. I slung it across my shoulder, gathered both of our towels, and left the room.

I dropped the towels off in the receptacle near the bathroom, and took Tanner's bag with all his clothes up to the front desk. "Is it possible to leave this up here?" I asked the woman working there, who nodded and deposited the duffel in a cubby behind the counter. She ripped a tag in half, attached part of it to the bag's strap, and handed me a slip with a matching number.

When I got back to the room, Tanner had finally woken up and was scrolling on his phone. "Hey," I said, closing the door behind me.

"Whoa, have you been up for a while?" he asked.

"About an hour," I told him. "I'm about to head out actually, to run a quick errand. I'll be back soon."

"Wait, but--" he sat up in bed. "What am I supposed to do? Stay h--wait, where the fuck is all my shit?"

"Safe," I reassured him. "But I'm not sure if I can trust you to be a good boy just yet. You just sit tight, and I'll be back in a few hours. Think of it as a time-out."

"Dude," Tanner whined, "we leave tomorrow! This is unfair."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, I think this is entirely too lenient, actually. Or should we go hang out with everyone who saw your show last night?"

I didn't wait for a response and left, closing the door behind me. I walked out of the hostel and into the warm, fragrant morning air. The sun wasn't too high yet, and the heat was pleasant instead of punishing. I headed for the metro stop, stopping for a coffee on the way, and boarded a train heading back out to Zona Rosa.

***

Last night, when we were in the back of the cab heading back to our hostel, I had gotten the opportunity to glimpse some of the main drags in Zona Rosa. One establishment in particular had caught my attention -- a massive sex shop, two stories with floor-to-ceiling windows. The street displays were notable for featuring entirely gay and homoerotic paraphernalia. Every shop I'd ever seen before featured busty mannequins in lingerie and toys designed for straight couples. This place, though, advertised posters of men in bulging underwear, male mannequins in leather harnesses, prostate massagers, DVDs of gay porn. An entire emporium of toys for boys.

I entered the store, still nursing my coffee, and was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of merchandise. The place was huge, yet still crammed, overflowing with products for any proclivity. There was an enormous shelf full of dozens of brands of poppers; dildos that looked like realistic penises next to ones the size of fire extinguishers; thousands of porno DVDs and even some on VHS.

The first floor contained the more popular, "vanilla" products. I wandered my way upstairs where more fetish gear was stocked -- all sorts of leather clothes and collars, tails and suits for furries, more advanced and intricate BDSM supplies -- the list went on and on. I wandered through the aisles, letting my imagination run wild for a bit.

Tanner would look hot in a leather harness

... but no, I had come for a specific item.

Eventually I found what I was looking for: a modest display of cock cages. Chastity devices ranging from pink plastic sheaths to medieval-looking steel contraptions that wrapped around the waist. I scanned the shelf, and one option in particular jumped out to me. Most of the cages looked like Tanner would be able to slide right out; even the smallest traditional ones had sheaths longer than an inch. But the "Micro Comfort Deluxe" called out to me. Instead of the usual design, with a penis-shaped container attaching to a cock-and-ball ring to constrain the flaccid dick, the "Micro" model consisted of a flat, round piece of metal the size of a quarter spaced barely a centimeter away from the base ring. In function, it pressed smaller cocks back up against the body to keep them constrained, a shallow lip running around the back edge ensuring nothing could slip out. Small holes perforated the surface, so that the wearer could still urinate.

It was perfect. I picked the model in a shiny, stainless steel finish and grabbed some water-based lube from a little stand at the top of the stairs. I was heading towards the register when I noticed an extremely tall, bald man on the first floor among the jock straps. He caught my eye for his sheer height, at first, but as he turned around I noticed familiar hazel eyes.

It was unmistakable. I walked up to him, and cautiously asked, "La Tigresa?"

The man smirked. "It's Tiago," he told me, extending a manicured hand, "during the day at least."

"Jamie," I introduced, returning the handshake.

"I recognize you," he said, nodding. "You came in with that boy from last night."

"Yeah. Tanner. He and I are traveling together."

La Tigresa--Tiago, I corrected myself internally--looked around nervously. "Is he here? I don't think he would exactly want to see me." He was much more confident when he was embodying La Tigresa than he was as Tiago.

"No, no. He's back at our hostel waiting for me to get back."

Tiago noticed, then, the box in my hand with the cock cage. His eyebrows shot up in recognition. "Well, well," he cooed, folding his arms. "Seems the events of last night have inspired you."

"You have no idea," I grinned.

"I understand. All straight men are the same," said Tiago, echoing my own thoughts from just the night before. "They can't control themselves. Can't bring themselves to respect queers, because we bring up too many uncomfortable questions about their own sexuality. God forbid they do some nuanced introspection. Better to curse and smash anything too challenging." He paused, gathering himself. His volume had been rising steadily as he spoke. Dropping back to a low voice, he looked piercingly into my eyes. "What I'm saying is, I think you're doing the right thing. Just be careful."

***

I entered the hostel, carrying an unmarked paper bag with my purchases inside. I stopped at the front desk to retrieve Tanner's luggage and went back to our bedroom.

I walked in on Tanner masturbating, watching porn on his phone with earbuds in. For a few seconds, he didn't notice that I had returned -- and by the time he did, it was too late. He let out a little "Ah!" and dropped his phone on the bed, scrambling to sit up. But as he did, his hands frozen in shock at his sides, his cock twitched and out dribbled even less cum than he'd produced the night before.

"Were you really jacking off?" I asked coolly.

"Well, it's not like you left me with much else to do," he muttered. "Fuck, man, that's the second ruined orgasm in twenty-four hours. The blue balls are driving me insane."

I smirked. "Go clean yourself off. Take a shower."

"Happy to," he said. "Can I get a towel?"

"I think you can go there just as you are. This is the men's side, anyway, and the bathroom's right down the hall."

"You can't be serious! I'll be in full view of the bar."

"It's not even noon yet. No one's at the bar. Well, except the alcoholic Australian. Now run along."

Tanner sighed, covered up his crotch, and ran down the hall to the bathroom as quickly as he could. While he was in the shower, I rifled through his bag, pulling out all of his underwear. One particularly dirty pair reeked of his musk; I held it close to my nose and inhaled deeply, my head swimming with the smell of his manhood.

I bundled up all the boxer briefs and brought them out into the reception area, where there was a rudimentary trash chute leading out to a dumpster in the alley. I watched as the underwear fell and landed among the other garbage, fluttering with the wind as they went.

I went back to the room and laid down to check Instagram while I waited for Tanner. He returned, dripping wet, his dick shriveled. "Hot water run out?" I asked. "Happened to me yesterday."

Tanner grabbed his bag to get dressed, and after a few moments started frantically ripping through its contents. "I thought you said my shit was safe," he snapped at me. "Someone stole all my underwear, sick fucks."

"Actually," I said, "I got rid of those for you. Your 'push-up panties' are a little disingenuous -- sad, really, don't you think? Also -- who told you to get dressed?"

Tanner huffed, pulling on a pair of black shorts over his nude lower half. "Fuck this," he said, his breathing heavy, "

fuck this

. It's our last day on vacation, I want to go out and do shit. I don't care if you give me

permission

. Fuck you."

I didn't respond for a moment while he applied deodorant and slid on a tee. When he sat on the edge of the bed to put on his socks and shoes, I slid over behind him, and held out my hand in front of him to show him my phone screen: the picture of his shaved, shriveled dick loaded up and ready to be posted to my Instagram story. His account was tagged, in small text, right next to his groin.

Before he even had time to react, I hit 'send.'

He leapt off the bed, rushing to my side of the room and dropping to his knees. "I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry. I should have listened. I shouldn't have lost my temper. Please, please, please, please, please take that down."

"Clothes off," I snapped tersely in response.

He scrambled to his feet and stripped down in a flash, his marble-sized balls now eye-level with me. I sat up on the side of the bed, cupped his nuts, which immediately disappeared in my fist, and gave a single, forceful squeeze.

Tanner cried out in pain, dry heaving and crumpling to the floor. "I'm so sorry," he gasped out again. "So sorry."

"Get back in bed," I said flatly.

He pulled himself off the ground and lie back down next to me. I unlocked my phone and showed him the screen again --

Story failed to upload.

"Airplane mode," I whispered. Tanner buried his face in his hands and let out a protracted exhale, trembling slightly.

"Thank you," he said in a small voice, "sir."

"Anyway," I said, standing up, my voice cheerier now. "I brought you a present for being good and waiting for me."

With my back to Tanner and blocking his view of the paper bag, I opened the box containing the chastity device and pulled out the flat disk and the smallest base ring included. I walked back over to the bed and set the cage and the lube on the bed next to tanner.

"What on earth is this thing?" he asked.

"A cock cage," I told him.

He shook his head. "I'm no expert, but that does not look like any cock cage I've ever heard of before. Are you sure you didn't accidentally buy a female chastity thing?"

I couldn't help but laugh at his self-own. I popped open the bottle of lube and squirted a generous amount into my palm. I reached down for Tanner's groin, but hesitated, realizing that I was really about to lay hands on his dick and balls. I smiled, joy washing over me. Indelicately, I slathered the lube all over his junk, his dick now a wet little bauble poking out at me. When I pulled away, a little moan escaped past Tanner's lips.

"Aw," I teased. "Did you like that?"

"I did, as a matter of fact. I'm telling you, man," he groaned, "I've been dying to have a real orgasm."

I didn't reply, and instead grabbed the base ring. I slipped one of Tanner's balls through, then the other. I yanked his cock through next, and slid the ring up to nestle firmly against his body. "Oh, perfect," I noted. "The extra-small is a perfect fit. I was afraid it'd be too big."