Door knob

You stand naked in the middle of the crowded living room, pointed ears slightly crooked, face paint smudged, your tiny ice-shrunk cock fully exposed under the warm lights. The rest of the guests are equally naked—an even mix of men and women. The other men are average, soft cocks hanging in the ordinary range, nothing impressive, nothing tiny except yours. The earlier comparisons have already made that clear. Now the atmosphere has turned chaotic and openly sexual. Men keep drifting closer, eyes on your wife’s body and on the ridiculous little package between your legs, offering compliments, jokes, and thinly veiled invitations.

Your wife raises her voice above the noise.

“New rule. Everyone who wants a turn gets one—women and men. Hands only. We test how long my little elf lasts. I’ll keep score.”

She does not have to ask twice.

The first woman steps in—a curvy brunette who has been eyeing you since the clothes came off. She looks down at the soft, wrinkled nub, gives it a light thump with her finger, and laughs.

“It’s like he avoided all the good parts of puberty,” she says clearly. “Like seriously, what the fuck? There’s nothing here.”

She closes her hand around you. Her fingers cover everything. She strokes with tight, efficient pressure. Around you the chaos continues—men complimenting your wife’s tits and ass, asking if she ever gets properly fucked, telling her they would happily show her what an average cock can do while you watch. One guy stands close enough that his soft average cock brushes your hip while he talks to her.

You last two minutes and twenty seconds.

The orgasm is sharp and weak. Thin, watery cum spills across the brunette’s fingers in short, almost clear spurts. She keeps stroking through it, then holds her hand up.

“Watery. Not manly at all. Just this thin little mess.”

Your wife only smiles and gestures for the next person.

A second woman takes over immediately. She works your sensitive, half-soft cock with the same focused rhythm. You finish even faster the second time—barely a minute and a half—another watery dribble that draws fresh laughter. While she is still milking the last weak pulses, a man leans in and tells your wife she deserves better, that he would last longer and come thicker, that she could use you as a little toy while he fucked her properly. Your wife laughs, thanks him for the offer, and keeps the line moving.

A tall guy with a completely average cock steps up next. He looks at your wife for permission; she nods. He wraps his hand around your tiny cock, his own soft shaft hanging just inches away for easy comparison, and begins stroking with obvious amusement. The size difference is absurd—his average cock looks substantial next to the little thing in his fist. You finish for him in under two minutes, watery cum streaking his fingers. He shows your wife, shakes his head, and tells her she is a saint for putting up with it. She only reaches down, gives your spent little package a proud squeeze, and waves the next person forward.

Everyone who wants a turn gets one.

Woman after woman, and several of the men, step up. Some of the women are gentle, some almost clinical. The men tend to be more openly mocking, holding their own average cocks beside yours while they stroke you, commenting on how completely their hand engulfs the little shaft, how quickly you respond, how thin the cum is. You are stroked to a third watery finish by a woman, then a fourth by another man who keeps his own half-hard average cock pressed lightly against your hip the entire time. Each load is the same—thin, clear, insubstantial. Between turns the flirting never stops. Men keep offering your wife their cocks, their mouths, their time. One stands behind you and lets his average erection rest against the small of your back while he tells your wife how hot she looks handling a dick so small. Another drops to a crouch just to examine your soft little cock up close after a round, then looks up at her and says he would love to watch her use it while he took her from behind.

A couple of the men take second turns. One wraps his hand around your oversensitive cock and strokes you with slow, deliberate twists, comparing the size difference out loud while your wife watches and smiles. You finish for him in less than two minutes again, another watery dribble that he displays to the nearest women before stepping aside.

The cycle continues until your legs are shaking and your cock is red and oversensitive. You have lost count of the orgasms—each one quick, each one watery, each one accompanied by fresh commentary about how little there is and how little you produce. The average men around the room stay mostly soft or half-hard, their ordinary cocks looking substantial every time someone holds them near yours for a quick comparison. Your wife never leaves your side. She keeps the line organized, keeps the men who are hitting on her laughing and interested, and keeps your tiny cock available for anyone—female or male—who still wants to test it.

By the time the last person finishes you—a woman who hands you off to one final man for the very last watery orgasm of the night—your wife looks around the circle of naked, amused faces and gives your soft, thoroughly used little dicklet one final slow stroke.

“That’s everyone,” she says. “Women and men. Fastest times of the night, weakest loads of the night, smallest dick of the night. And he still gets hard for the next hand every single time. My perfect little party toy.”

She keeps holding you on display while the men continue to flirt with her, the women continue to comment on the watery evidence still visible on several hands, and the naked chaotic energy of the party shows no sign of slowing down.