"Hello?" Samantha's voice coming over through his phone caused Brady to smile for the first time in a while. She had been one of his best friends since third grade, and he even had a bit of a crush on her. It started the first day of middle school when she punched a kid for making fun of him. Ever since that day he had harbored a secret love. Not that she could ever know that.
"Sam! It's Brady."
"OH MY GOD! Brady! I feel like August was years ago. It's so good to hear your voice! How have you been? Tell me all about it! HSU living up to the hype?"
"Well..." came his timid reply, before brightening artificially. "I'm starting at wide receiver."
"Already?!" Her genuine excitement warmed his heart, and reminded him why he wanted to play in the first place. "That's so awesome! See, you were worried it would be hard for you. Sounds like you're killing the college game."
"That's actually why I wanted to call you. There's a game Friday night, and if you can make it down here-"
"Yes! I mean, yeah, sure, I can make it. That'd be really cool. I only have one class on Friday and it ends at ten." She tried to temper herself, but Brady could tell she was legitimately excited.
"Oh, uh, awesome. I'll have a ticket waiting for you at will-call. I figure right after the game we can just head home and chill for the weekend. Catch up."
"Yeah... yeah I would really like that." She couldn't hide the smile in her voice.
They spoke for a couple more minutes, before she had to run off, but it was all Brady needed to lift his spirits. That is until about five minutes later when a text from Rob came through.
"Pep rally, five o'clock at the Frog house. Be there and wear your jersey."
There was nothing inherently sinister about the message, but Brady couldn't help but feel a lingering darkness about the whole situation.
He sulked along during his day, where Rob seemed suspiciously uninterested in messing with him. The arousal check in Ms. Adam's class was as humiliating as ever, but at least he was wearing his own underwear this time. Before Brady knew it, he was trudging along, watching as the raucous frat house, and the dreaded pep rally, drew ever closer.
"Hey there little guy!" came Rob's voice, and was followed by the familiar heavy slap on the back. "You ready for the rally?!"
"Alright. I give up. What are you planning to do to me tonight? Strip me naked and make me serve people drinks? Turn me into a living statue? Let people write humiliating things on me? What?" Brady almost didn't care anymore, his tone carrying an unusual edge.
"Hey hey, relax brother. I'm not messing with you during the homecoming pep rally. That shit's sacred. We're here to get prepped to stomp a mudhole in West Middleburg U! So are you ready?"
Brady took a breath, and tried to relax. He reminded himself that hell week would pass, and then they would be teammates. Somehow his anxiety grew worse. "You bet your ass I am. We're gonna make them look like some bitches!"
Rob gave him a smile, and another, less firm pat on the back, before they made their way into the crowded house to loud cheers.
"That's right everyone, the party can start now!" Shouted Rob, as a gorgeous brunette in a very short skirt handed Brady a red cup full of what was probably the cheapest beer they could find. In that moment it was the most delicious thing Brady had ever tasted.
Most of the night, Brady was the center of attention, and for once it was a good thing. He drank and danced and laughed with everyone for a few hours, while they all grew more inebriated and excitable. Towards the end of the night, Rob herded the football team onto a large stage with a white sheet making up a makeshift screen behind them. All the attention in the room turned to them, and Brady felt a familiar twinge of discomfort.
"Gentlemen, ladies, and theydies," Rob shouted about the din of the crowd. "welcome to the tenth HSU football championship season!" An animalistic roar erupted from the mass of people, as the thick crowd of drunk students swayed a bit. "We have a team here that's as good or better than any team we're going to face this year! Let's see why!"
With that the lights went down, and a projector in the back whirred to life. A video of their practice highlights flickered against the sheet. It was clearly edited to make them look good, but the crowd was still into it. Brady couldn't help but smile every time a clip of him making a fantastic catch played. He even thought he saw some of the cheerleaders looking impressed.
That's when things changed. The highlight reel stopped, and was suddenly replaced by the image of a dorm room, which Brady instantly recognized as his own.
"Huh?" he said, a confused look hovering on his face. The confusion doesn't last long, as he watches himself walk on screen dressed in the "I have a tiny pee pee" shirt, and the tight sweatpants, his tiny erection raging beneath them. A gentle laugh started among the crowd, and Brady knew exactly what footage he was looking at. "Rob, please no." he tried, but knew it was no use. Brady could only watch as the on screen version of himself ripped the clothes off, revealing his minuscule erection to the crowd, who immediately got louder.
Brady tried to keep himself from looking at everyone, but couldn't help it. He looked up to see a sea of his classmates waving their pinkies, and holding their thumb and forefingers an inch apart to mock him. Things only got worse when screen Brady started furiously stroking his little cock with three fingers. At this point, most of the crowd was either doubled over in laughter, or pulling out their phones to record the incident.
Brady could only watch in horror as past version of himself laid back, and let his little cock shoot, covering his chest in cum. The audience couldn't believe what they were seeing, the laughter somehow growing even louder. The screen shut off, and the lights came up, but this did nothing to dampen the abject humiliation Brady was feeling. Brady tried to take solace in the idea that it couldn't get any worse, then he heard Rob's voice.
"Wow! What a performance from our newest starting receiver, huh? He's fast on the field, but not as fast as his hand when it's time to play with his baby boner!"
At this point, Brady gave up and tried to walk off stage, but several of his team mates grabbed him, holding him there against his will.
"Oh no little guy." Rob laughed "You're not getting away that easy. These people saw the recorded version! Now they wanna see it live!"
Brady's eyes went wide. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're not serious..."
"Oh... I am." With that Brady felt a set of hands grab his jersey, and pull it off his torso before he could do anything to stop them. They worked just as quickly to pull off his pants, shoes, and underwear, leaving him completely naked in front of the crowd, his tiny, flaccid cock nowhere near as big as it was on screen. He tried to cover himself, but the team held his arms out so everyone could get a good look.
"Alright baby dick." said Rob with a laugh. "You have two choices. You can either stroke that little thing for the crowd, and get it over with, or we can leave you like this not only for tonight, but all day tomorrow. It's up to you."
Brady hesitated for a while, thinking for a second that this all must be some horrible dream. That was, until the crowd began chanting "stroke that dick-let (clap clap clapclapclap)".
He looked over at Rob, searching for a shred of humanity, and found none. He quickly realized he didn't have much of a choice. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Brady reached down, and began to play with his cock. Due to its state, he had to use just two fingers at first, which got the crowd going louder than ever. He tried to shut their laughter out, and eventually got himself hard, which didn't do much to stop the mockery.
The room slowly went quiet, which wasn't much better. All it did was make Brady acutely aware of all the eyes, and worse, cameras on him as he jerked his undersized dick. Despite all of this, Brady eventually felt himself get closer and closer to cumming. To his horror, he let out an involuntary moan, that set the crowd off again. This time not only could he hear laughter, but he could pick out individual comments from the crowd.
"Oh my god he's enjoying it!"
"What a little perv!"
"That's right, jerk that baby carrot!"
"Cum for us, button dick!"
Brady couldn't hold out any longer. He felt the wave of reluctant pleasure wash over him as his little cock twitched, shooting its load onto the stage in front of him. This brought a loud cheer from the crowd, as Brady blushed, dropping his head and watching his dicklet shrink back down to its dormant size.
"Well there we go!" shouted Rob. "Fantastic performance from our newest starting receiver! Give him a hand for being such a good sport... Well give him three fingers anyway!"
They let Brady get dressed, but the rest of the night was hellish. A large number of the women that saw him immediately tried to re-enact the video they saw, using their pinky to represent Brady's dick, and stroking it with two fingers, before throwing their head back in laughter. Brady couldn't even remember the walk back to his dorm, but he would never forget the humiliation he suffered that night.
The next morning Brady sat on his bed, dressed in a tightly belted pair of jeans, and the same jersey he wore during the humiliating pep rally the night before. He tossed a football from hand to hand, staring into the middle distance, trying to find the motivation to go to class. It had been a draining week, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. As a result of his indecision, he was still sitting on his bed fifteen minutes into his first class. That was when a knock came at the door, causing Brady to jump. He walked over, and opened the door with a shaking hand, to see the last person in the world he wanted to see.
"Hey man." said Rob, a sincere note of worry in his voice. "When you didn't come to class, I got worried. We need our starting receiver tonight. You alright?"
Brady stared at him in disbelief for a moment, before replying. "Uh... yeah, I mea... yeah I was just..."
"Oh shit, I get it. My bad. I should've told you, tradition dictates that I leave you alone for the day leading up to the homecoming game. We want our starters to be mentally prepared. I know I faked you out last night, but I promise, I'm not going to mess with you today. Today I want you focused on winning."
Brady wasn't sure whether or not to believe him, but decided he really didn't have much choice. They walked to class together, and sat through it without incident. In fact, that's how most of the day went. He walked from class to class, and even Ms. Adams left him alone. It seemed the whole school was in on this tradition. For once, Brady was thankful.
Lunch was actually rather pleasant. A number of students even patted him on the back and wished him luck. For the first time since Monday morning, Brady felt like coming to HSU might not have been a giant mistake.
After a full day of this, Brady felt like he had the entire school behind him. He was more than ready for the game. The final class of the day blew by with him barely noticing. It almost felt like a blink between lunch and him sitting in the locker room, full uniform on, his helmet sitting by his side.
"You ready Rook?" Rob's voice came from the other end of the bench. Brady answered with a solemn nod.
As they ran through the entryway onto the field surrounded by 40,000 screaming fans, the events of last week melted away entirely. For the first time, it wasn't even in the back of Brady's mind. There was only this moment. He scanned the front row, and quickly found Samantha's face smiling at him. He flashed a smile back, and looked up to see the team on the jumbo screen overlooking the field. It was a surreal sight, but he didn't have long to take it in before sliding his helmet over his head, and preparing for battle.
The game was a vicious one. Both teams were at the start of their season, so they were more than ready to hit each other. The game was stopped more than once due to injury, and at the beginning of the fourth quarter, HSU was losing 6-3. The fourth went like the rest, until about fifteen seconds from the end of the game.
Brady lined up against the cornerback that had been shoving him around all day, number 53, a fire burning in his eyes. When the ball was snapped, Brady took off like he hadn't just played 60 minutes of grueling football. It was like his feet were carrying him without him even thinking about it. He faked to the left, and 53 bought it. Brady sprinted back the other direction, completely alone. He ran as fast as he could down the sideline, his arm up to indicate that he was open. Brady looked back and saw the ball spiraling directly toward him. He put his hands out, and as if dropped by god himself, Brady caught the ball mid stride. With nobody to even attempt to stop him, Brady ran the length of the field as the clock ticked down, scoring the winning touchdown just as it hit zero.
Brady couldn't believe it. The realization only hitting him when he spun around and saw the stadium full of people on their feet, cheering and chanting his name. Time froze. Brady took a deep breath and marveled in his big moment, not just seen by the tens of thousands in attendance, but the millions watching at home.
Time quickly unfroze, as his team mates came rushing from down field, tackling and piling on him in ceremonial celebration. While at the bottom of the pile of heavy bodies, Brady felt his helmet and shoulder pads pulled off. Before he could do anything about it, his shoes, and the rest of the uniform on his lower half were torn off as well, leaving him completely naked. He tried to escape, but the large group of men grabbed him, and lifted him up on their shoulders, presenting his naked body, tiny dick and all, to the cheering crowd. He tried to cover himself, but they grabbed his hands, leaving him completely exposed.
The crowd went silent for a moment, before a wave of laughter swept through the stadium. Brady turned a bright red, as his team turned him around, not only giving the other side a better view, but letting Brady see that the entire thing was being projected onto the jumbo screen so everyone could see exactly how small he was.
The crowd's laughter quickly turned to chants of "Baby Dick! Baby Dick!" as his team mates took him on a victory lap around the field, ignoring his protests. Half way around, he looked into the crowd, and his heart sank. There was Samantha. She had her face covered, but he could see by the bouncing of her shoulders that she was laughing uncontrollably. It was then that he realized that this game was being broadcast live across the country. He couldn't take anymore. Managing to wiggle free, he dropped to the moist grass with a heavy thud. Brady covered himself, and ran to the locker room, the laughter and chanting of the crowd following him back down the entrance tunnel.
Brady got dressed in record time, before his teammates could even make it back to the locker room. He then left, and was both relieved and horrified to find Samantha already sitting in her car, waiting for him to come out. He briefly considered just walking the hundred miles home, but ultimately realized he'd have to face her eventually. As he climbed into the car, he couldn't even look at her.
"Listen..." She tried to start, but Brady put up his hand and stopped her.
"I know what you're gonna say. Please don't. That'll only make things worse."
She was quiet for a moment, as they pulled out of the parking lot, and made their way toward the freeway. After about ten minutes, she spoke again. "So instead of trying to sympathize... it would be better for you if I just treated you like I always do?"
"Oh my god, yes, please." he replied, throwing up his hands, and slamming his head back against the headrest. "Seriously, all I have wanted all week was to be back with you... and everyone else obviously, just treating me like you normally would."
"Okay..." she smiled. "Then I should probably spend the next couple hours making fun of your tiny dick."
Brady's jaw dropped, as she threw her head back in laughter. It took him a minute to understand. "Oh... ok I get it. That's cute."
"I mean seriously. I know it was cold out there, but I can't think of a place on earth that gets cold enough to explain what I saw."
"I've seen some small ones in my life, but my god. It was like a baby bird poking its head out of a nest."
"Alright Sam! I got it."
"Look, I'm just saying I don't see you any different. This is just like when Jenny wedgied herself climbing that fence, or when Paul was jerking it in the bathroom and got caught by the janitor. Yeah, it's embarrassing, and I'll probably pick on you a bit, but at the end of the day, you're still Brady. I don't care how big your dick is."
Brady's gaze stayed on his shoes, but a little smile crept across his face. "Or like the time your skirt fell down on stage during that speech-"
"Yeah, just like that." she cut him off, her eyes now locked on the road ahead.
"And you were wearing those pink panties with the red hearts all over them."
"Yeah, ok. Better be careful. Our friends might not watch football, but I could always insist that they ABSOLUTELY have to see your big play... and the celebration afterward."
Brady's smile faded, and Samantha laughed once more. "Fuck..." said Brady "I forgot the game was on TV. Everyone probably saw everything."
"I mean... maybe it was so small they didn't see it."
Brady let out a laugh, more out of exhaustion than anything, as Samantha pressed down on the gas, and they drove off toward home...