The Tiny Truth behind the Manly Man

My name is Steve Wallow, and I am what you call an aspiring artist, so I am always embarking on different adventures to find inspiration. Previously, I was an accountant, but I quickly learned it was a profession I lacked a genuine passion for. I didn't know where my life would lead me, but I knew I needed to find something soon. One day, I was looking out at this lake in my backyard and remembered how much I enjoyed sketching and painting growing up.

This changed my future trajectory; since then, I have been building my art portfolio, hoping to attend a competitive art school one day. I dream of enrolling in "The Glasgow School of Art in Scotland." But the main problem is that my portfolio needs the artistic nuance that this school seeks in painting and printmaking. I have examples of surrealism, cubism, and even landscape, but I need realistic samples. Because of this, I am taking my boldness to the next level.

I was involved in my local church in the small town of New Hope, Pennsylvania, and lived there my whole life. There was this older gentleman who was in his late forties. He was this attractive, tall, chubby, and mysterious man. I've known him my whole life, and his name was Timothy Winchester. He was always this big shot with plenty of stories about his wild life. We were having a holiday party, and he was busy talking to some ladies. He seemed like a fascinating person. Toward the end of the party, I asked him if he wanted to help me with my art school portfolio. I told him I would paint him. He was hesitant but quickly agreed after I offered him money.

Later that evening, we met at my parent's house, where I had a big art studio. Timothy was amazed by the art studio and all the diverse drawings and paintings. He looked in amazement at some of my favorite works of lakes, waterfalls, abandoned buildings, portraits, and scenery hung up on the different walls.

"Wow, I have to hand it to you, Stevie."

I blushed at him calling me that. That was the unfortunate nickname I had growing up.

"You are one hell of an artist. This is amazing. I've known you my whole life. Why didn't you tell anyone about this?"

"It's a modest talent of mine. I don't like boasting about it."

He complimented me by saying, "Well, when you are this stellar, you have the right to be proud of what you do. I can speak to the pastor about your work because the church wants to paint a new mural. We need someone who will spearhead the project. What do you think, son?"

I blushed at the opportunity, "I mean, I've thought about it but concluded I am too busy for that."

"Aww, come on, you would be great. I can help you out."

"That would be great. Thank you so much, Timothy."

He looked at me and said, "I am excited to do this. I've never been a model before. So, you want to draw my face, like a portrait?

I gave a dorky smile, "I am so sorry, Timothy, because I should have mentioned before that I need a figure study of you."

He looked in amazement, "Oh, you mean like my whole body? I will still have my clothes on, right?"

"Not exactly, you see; I need a realistic art sample of the human body, preferably without clothes."

He shook his head and growled, "As in naked? There is no way I am doing that. It would be best if you mentioned this before, boy. What a waste of my time."

Timothy's face puffed up to a bright red. It was strange for Timothy to lack confidence as he always had the best stories about his life. He was about to storm out until I pleaded with him.

"Please, sir, I really need your help. You are the only one who has shown an interest in doing this. I was afraid you would run for the hills if I told you everything I needed. This will only be for my art portfolio, which means only art school administrators will see this when they evaluate my applications."

He was about to leave until he stopped and thought about it.

He said, "So, let me get this straight. You want me to pose naked for you?"

I nodded and expected him to decline, "Okay, as long as no one else will see this. I have an image to conserve."

"I completely understand what you mean," I told him, but I didn't comprehend what he was referring to.

I had my canvas out, ready to begin painting. We just stood facing each other awkwardly.

After about a minute later of this prolonged silence, I stammered, "Well, what are you waiting for?"

He looked down and stumbled on his words, "Oh, right. Sorry about that. I am nervous because I've never done this before."

"If it makes it any easier, think of me as Suzie from church, I said. He looked at me inquisitively, to which I blurted out, "Trust me, I am an artist. I observe and know these things. I don't blame you, though. I get it. She is a cute, friendly blonde girl."

He giggled and was lost in thought, "Yeah."

"Alright, enough of that. Please remove your clothes."

Then Timothy nervously began taking his clothes off. Article by article came off his masculine body, and he was finally in his little tighty-whities underwear. He had an alluring physique; his chubby, round body gave him a sense of unspoken charisma.

He looked at me nervously, "Let's just begin like this so I can get used to the idea."

I bit back, "That isn't how this works, Timothy. Get that pair of underwear off right now, or I will yank them off myself. Just get comfortbale. This is a safe space. It is just us guys. There is nothing to be embarrassed about, man.

"Okay fine, here goes nothing," said Timothy, and with that, he pulled off the last piece of clothing he was wearing. He put his thumbs in the waistband and slowly took off his underwear down to his ankles. He stepped out of them completely, so he was fully naked. He covered up his crotch before I got a good look at what I was about to paint. I walked up to him and took his clothes. I locked them in the other room, so he would comply with everything I asked.

"Wait, but I need those clothes."

I winked at him, "Don't worry, you will get your precious clothes by the end of the evening."

He stood there like a child cupping his private parts. I was intrigued by what he was trying to hide from me.

I gestured my hand, "Remove those hands, please."

He looked nervous but finally conceded my request. He removed his beefy hands, and what stood before me was something you could never imagine in a million years. Timothy was utterly naked, and his penis--if you could even call it that, was incredibly tiny. If you think of a baby carrot or AAA battery, you need to think again. When I use the word little, I mean extra small, to the point where I could barely see anything attached to his big, hairy, beautiful legs. He was enchanted with such a stunning body but cursed with a half-inch dicklette that didn't even protrude past his baby-sized balls. I didn't even know how to react, so I did what anyone would naturally do: giggle.

I giggled loudly and innocently as I didn't want to hurt his feelings. How could you not laugh at something so tiny, though?

I whispered to myself, "Wow, holy shit."

Timothy shouted, "Hey! What are you laughing at? I am not laughing at your skinny body, am I?"

I continued painting and said, "No, sir."

I couldn't take my eyes off his little, shrunken half-inch berry. He just had a tiny little head glued to his prepubescent balls. It took everything in me not to laugh more in his face.

"Yeah, I mean, your body is lifeless and stick-like. You are so damn skinny, boy."

He started acting like a jerk, so I made him aware of why he shouldn't treat me that way.

"Timothy, who is in charge here? I have your clothes locked up. If you continue acting like a bad boy, you can walk home naked."

"Damn it. Fine, I won't say anything anymore."

I smirked and looked at his meatless manhood over there, looking like the tip of a thin lipstick. He knew to shut his mouth, knowing what I was witnessing. I saw his most embarrassing secret revealed to me, and I was about to take full advantage of little Timmy in his shriveled and decompressed state.

"I am trying to paint you, but to be honest, Timothy, that is one hell of a small pecker you've got down there, dude."

I started giggling uncontrollably with my eyes wide open, gawking at the teeny tiny hose between his thick legs. From this, he covered his little compact member with his hands.

"Haha, Timothy, my boy, if you are going to cover up your little baby penis, you just need your pinky to do the job."

He was red-faced like a bright maraschino cherry (pun intended).

He yelled, "Quit your childish laughing, and don't tell anyone about my penis, okay Stevie."

"For one stumpy, it isn't childish to laugh at your little cock because anyone would laugh at something so tiny, minuscule, and outlandish. You should be used to that. Second, you can't call whatever that is a penis if we are being honest here. Call it something more appropriate, like a snack-sized ding-a-ling or an undersized tallywhacker."

"No way, that makes me sound like a little boy, like you."

"Haha, I'm not the little boy. You are down there, little man. Now, uncover that little thing of yours. Share how tiny you are with the world."

He sighed and uncovered his small dagger dicklette, one which babies would be embarrassed to have.

I looked at his shaftless, limp crotch, giggled, and pointed, "Now, if you are going to refer to your little pee-pee, you need to use more truthful and creative words to describe that genetically diminished ding-dong. Go back to what you said before, pathetic inchworm."

He looked utterly livid and horrified, "Fine. Don't tell anyone about my wee-wee again."

I shot him a look of disappointment, "No. Do it again."

"Don't tell anyone about my tiny wee-wee again."

"I need more than that, you dickless fish."

"God damn! Don't tell anyone about my insanely tiny, undeveloped micro wee-wee again. It's so damn tiny I wank with one finger.

I winked and said, "That's better, and we'll see baby boy.

"You promised you wouldn't tell anyone about my little one-inch wonder."

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone about that mini-disaster in your pants. It would ruin your life and convict you as a pathological liar. Of all those times you told us about the women you 'dated.' Now, strike a pose with your pre-school-looking cocklette."

He looked pretty sad and defeated but continued to give such manly poses by flexing his alpha-looking muscles despite having nothing between his legs. There was just a thin, weak muscle acorn head with no shaft resting between his raisin-sized balls.

"Haha, there is no need to look manly when you've got nothing down there. How can you ever be a man with all that? I don't even know how you make love with something so screwed up. Just be yourself, Tiny Tim. Look confident but graceful about having an itty bitty tiny cocklette."

He looked beyond embarrassed, but I was just getting started. I was actually enjoying myself. I constantly stared at his little pee-wee dinky as it just meditated between his little toddler-like, undescended balls.

"I still can't get over how tiny your penis is, Timothy. Tell me, I've heard all the stories about your adventures with different women. Were they true? Have you actually ever had a woman?"

He looked ashamed, "Of course."

I snarkily looked through his lies, "Tell me the truth, little boy."

"No, I've never had one."

I looked directly at his microdong and said, "I can definitely see that."

Timothy burned from embarrassment as I kept teasing him about his midsection misfortune.

I started drawing his lower body and asked, "Okay tiny junk baby, it's one thing not to be in a relationship with someone, but please tell me, have you ever had sex with a woman?"

"The truth is, I haven't."

I stopped what I was doing and walked up to Timothy to take a closer gander at his underdeveloped pickle, "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense."

I was inches away from his little wiggling half-inch chode. I wanted to give it a little kiss, but I decided not.

I walked back, holding my mouth and giggling.

"Tell me what happened when you took different women to the bedroom?"

"They would be excited to have sex with me, but the moment they saw my shortcomings, they would laugh uncontrollably or make up some excuse.

"I can't say I blame them. Are you embarrassed, Timothy?"

"Yes, I have never been more embarrassed in my whole life."

"Why is that?"

"Because you keep teasing my little guy and me."

"Aww. I am sorry you are embarrassed that you have a 0.5-inch wee-wee. I could really stare at this little pee-pee all day. It is so cute and innocent. I mean, you are still a baby virgin. Have you been embarrassed at other times?"

"Yes, my immediate family knew about my little penis. My mom would constantly walk in on me showering to remind me to wash my little bottoms, and my dad would regularly check on my growth. He would be angry when I wasn't where he wanted me to be. I remember he took me to a urologist to discuss my lack of development. He asked the doctor why my penis was so 'damn tiny,' and I was 19. The doctor merely giggled and told my dad that some boys or men are just tiny. Once, my extended family was having a barbeque, and I tried out the new pool slide. There was a sharp edge at the bottom that I overlooked. It caught my trunks. I didn't notice, and I ran up to try the slide again, and my whole family was pointing and laughing at my pinky-winky genitals. After that day, everyone knew I was packing a baby penis. They never let me live it down. Repeatedly, I was pansted and teased."

"Haha, poor Timothy. It must have been horrifying that your family knew you would never satisfy a woman in bed. I can't believe I am painting a naked toddler like you."

"Dammit. Stevie, stop, fuck."

I couldn't resist, "Well, 'fuck' is what you can't do with a little pee-pee like yours. Turn around so that I can get your back."

He turned around, and I started painting his backside. He had a big meaty bubble ass.

I whistled, "Beautiful ass, Timothy, too bad about the stagnated front. You really need a tan on your ass, though. Your bits are just little candy-sized gherkins. What a shame."

"You talk a big game. Show me what you've got."

I immediately yanked my shorts and underwear down with confidence. My long cock, around eight inches, sprang in his face.

"I have a reason to talk a big game. You do not."

He looked away, knowing where we both stood as men. You just needed to look at what we were both packing to know. I pulled up my pants and told Timothy my sister, Kelly, was joining us.

"Wait, what," and Kelly immediately walked through the front door wearing a lovely leather dress and boots with a nice voluptuous figure.

Timothy immediately covered up his little button dick again, especially since he now had a terrible problem in the junkular department.

Kelly announced herself, "How's it going, Steve?"

"I am doing well. How are you doing?"

"I could be better. I just finished a date with this jerk."

She was shocked to see Timothy in the nude, "Oh, I didn't know you were painting this evening."

There stood a naked Timothy covering his unimpressive shrimp dicky.

"C'mon Timothy, move those hands away and continue posing."

"Yeah, it's okay. It's not like you have anything I haven't seen before."

He reluctantly removed his hands and exposed his little dynamite. I looked at my sister's reaction.

Kelly's eyes widened, "Wow. Haha, he's got a little one. I would call this a little micropinky. It's so cute."

I looked at it again, "More like a frightened turtle, and wait, Timothy, are you hard right now?"

He was agitated at this point, "Yes."

Kelly looked at me, and we started giggling.

"My sister is why your little guy got all boned up. I could barely tell your little member was all hard. Aww. It barely got any bigger. How big is it?"

"It is four inches."

Kelly and I looked at him with suspicion.

"Okay, it is two inches."

Again, we looked in disbelief.

"Fine! It is hard at one inch. Are you happy now?"

We looked at each other and burst into loud, hysterical laughter.

"I have no words, but okay, let's continue."

I walked up to Timothy to help him with a new position.

"I want you to be more relaxed and natural. You are so tense and rigid."

My eyes darted to his unmanly teeny weeny, "And remember, Timothy, just a little reminder, emphasis on 'little,' you can't get a woman with such a tiny, little boy pee-pee. You can forget all about Suzie at church."

"Shut up already."

"Aww, don't be mad you can't get a woman with a little penis like that, haha."

He snarled, "That is not true."

I looked at him sternly, came close to his small penis, and grabbed it with two fingers, basically covering the entire thing.

"Admit that you can't get a woman with a penis so vile and puny."

"Alright, it is true."

"What's true?"

"I can't get a woman with a penis so freaking tiny."

"Good boy. I am glad you are learning."

I walked back and continued to draw a naked Timothy.

Kelly added, "Don't forget to draw Timothy's baby penis. Since it is so tiny, like a coach's whistle, you may forget to add it."

Timothy said, "Kelly, you need to shut it. No one asked for your opinion."

"Acting like a dick won't make yours any bigger."

"Haha, Nice one, sis."

"How about you come over here and suck my cock, Kelly?"

"How can I? There isn't anything to suck on."

Haha, that is so true, Kelly. There really isn't anything down there that can classify him as a man. I mean, even little two-year-olds have bigger goobers."

"You got to stop painting newborn babies like Timothy here. He is so tiny and would make a great monk. He should be celibate because no woman will enjoy that ingrown stubby. What a microdicked stud."

After about an hour of constant insults and merciless ridicule, I finished the painting.

"Finally, can I have my clothes back?"

"That won't be necessary little fella. Just look at the painting. Bring your incredibly small dicklette over here for our enjoyment."

Timothy walked toward us, and we watched in awe as his little thing bounced left to right in such a springy, tiny fashion.

He looked at the painting. I decided to touch his little pee-pee. I flicked it back and forth with my index finger. I mean, the tip of my thumb was bigger than his hard dinkle.

He looked at me, "Hey. What are you doing?"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist flicking something so damn pathetic looking. How do you go through life with such a small package?"

He ignored me, "It is a magnificent painting with sharp and detailed finery, but where is my penis? It is obvious in this painting I have no penis."

"How is that different from you right now?"

"Please, don't send this in. I have a penis, it may be small, but I do have one."

"Stop being a big baby. I better powder that little thing," I said. I pointed at the painting, "It is right there."

"You can barely see it!"

"Look at it with binoculars, then. It is an accurate representation. I think it is my best painting."

"Please don't release this."

"I actually had an ulterior motive for painting you. Remember when I was a teenager, and you yanked my shorts down at the church retreat at the beach? Everyone saw me naked. It was mortifying. You also bullied me all the time when I was growing up. Imagine a grown man bullying a child. I vowed to get my revenge on you, and now I will. Get out before I call the cops, you micropenis-carrying virgin loser."

"What about my clothes?"

"You don't need them. Run home, Tiny Tim, haha."

"Please, there must be something I can do."

"There is one thing. Father Herald lives at the church that is pretty close to Lake Honoway. We can drop you off by the church, and you can tell him you were skinny dipping and someone stole your clothes."