What else can he do? (Small dick version)

Sam was no fool. Despite how unfair and awful this was, he knew refusal would just lead to him being expelled at that would be that for his chances at college and success. So regardless of how much he hated it, he had **** but to obey this futa. All because she was on some fucking legacy scholarship.

Sam removed his shirt and pants, leaving his boxers on, hoping she’d let him keep those. No such luck.

“I said strip, that means naked. Next time you hesitate with an order, I’ll redden that ass of yours with my riding crop.”

Cheeks burning, Sam dropped his boxers, revealing his pitiful 3 inch erection. The futa burst out laughing. “Oh wow. Housing really picked a good one. I was trying to decide whether to make you a bull **** or a sissy but that makes my mind up for me. I’ll make a femboy out of that little dick in a week. I won’t even need the estrogen pills. Although,” she smiled wickedly, “I’ll use them anyway, just so you know your manhood is gone.” Sissification? The idea was too awful for Sam to stand. “Please, I’m begging you—“ She cut him off with a harsh slap. “Slaves only speak when spoken too, and then you will refer to me as Mistress Rachel or Mistress Sparks in formal settings. Now, kneel and accept your collar.” Sam knew he simply had ****. He resigned himself to spending the next four years as a **** to Mistress Rachel, and kneeled down, accepting his collar and his fate.