What are you going to do about it?

(Part 1 from 2)

Note : This story is completely fictional!

My coworker Paul is an asshole. Paul and I both work as electricians at a manufacturing plant. It is dirty hard work but it pays well. Technically I'm Paul's boss, but we work pretty independently. Paul enjoys ridiculing people and, because he is a huge guy, they just take the abuse to avoid getting pummeled.

During his first month on the job Paul was pretty respectful to me, but once he realized that I wasn't really the boss type things changed. One day after our shift, we were both up in the locker room. I had just stepped out of the shower and Paul was standing there with a grin on his face that made me feel like a complete fool.

"That has to be the smallest little prick I've ever seen." He said with his arms crossed in front of his over-developed chest. I was so humiliated; I felt my dick shrivel up even more. Paul was standing there confident I wouldn't be able to do anything, and he was right. I'm not a big guy. I stand 5' 8" and 150 pounds with a penis that strains to reach its fully erect 5 inches. Because of my job I'm wiry and strong, but next to him I look 12. Paul is 6' 4" and weighs in at over 230. The lucky bastard was also on the preferred list when they handed out cocks. While I stood naked, and humiliated with my dick betraying me as it shriveled close to my torso, his dangled limp and heavy. The thing had to be 6 ½" long flaccid and thick in proportion to the rest of his body.

From then on Paul has made a point of calling me "boy" or "pin-dick" or any number of degrading names. He also spread news of my shortcomings around the shop. As I'd pass fellow employees they'd shoot me knowing grins or giggle as I passed. Of course, it doesn't help that my wife prefers that I keep my pubic hair cropped close, and my balls shaved. It only adds to the pubescent boy remarks. I came out of the shower one night to find that someone had used bolt cutters on my locker and replaced my clothes with frilly pink lingerie. Paul snapped a picture as I opened the locker. I went home that night wearing my work uniform.

One Friday night I stopped off at the pub after work. Paul and a group of our co-workers sat at a table and waved me over. I just shrugged and sat at the bar. I heard them all laughing over something Paul had muttered. I had a few beers and then gave a call home to Deb.

Deb is the best thing that ever happened to me. We met when we were in our early twenties and everything just clicked. She had the greatest sense of humor, and was the most beautiful girl to ever give me serious consideration. She was a poster child for German genetics; 5' 9" tall, 120 lbs, a long-limbed blonde with a great figure and breasts that plastic surgeons could use as a template. Our first few years together were intensely sexual. There was no place or time too sacred. We had sex in public places to satisfy her exhibitionist streak, even though I was a bit uptight about it. The sex leveled off to normal proportions after we were married for a while, but lately had dropped off. Paul had managed to make me self conscious about my body. I explained it away as stress on the job, and Deb seemed to understand. After all, I didn't want to tell her that the bully at work had made fun of my little dick. I felt my heart drop when she said, "I could go for a few drinks. I'll be right up."

I wasn't the only one to notice when Deb walked into the bar. Her exhibitionist instincts hadn't abandoned her. She was wearing tight black Capri style pants and a white halter top without a bra. Her legs and ass were gorgeous, and there must have been a chill in the air because her nipples were erect and pushing at the fabric of her top. Nearly every guy in the place had his eyes fixed on her – not to mention Paul. I could see the look of astonishment on my coworkers faces as she came and gave me a kiss before sitting down. I enjoyed a smug feeling of satisfaction. Deb had obviously come out for some fun.

We enjoyed a few drinks and Deb started rubbing my thigh. I suggested going home for some recreation. She said, "Don't be in such a rush. And quit being so uptight." I relaxed and smiled, knowing I had a great night ahead of me. That is when Paul took a seat on the bar stool beside Deb.


"Hey buddy! I didn't see you sitting over here." Paul said. Then he looked over at Deb as though seeing her for the first time and said, "Hello. I don't think we've meant. I'm Paul. Your husband and I work together."

I know. It sounds friendly and harmless enough, but that is what bothered me. Here was Paul, the bully, saddling up next to my wife like he was the most amiable guy in the world. It was as though he was daring me to tell him to go away. I should have. I didn't. She smiled and said, "Hi Paul. It's nice to meet you." They shook hands and Paul held her hand just a little too long. Paul ordered a round for us and started to chat her up and would occasionally include me in the conversation with phrases like, "Isn't that right, Boss?" or "You know what I'm talking about. Right, buddy?"

Before too long I was getting pretty jealous. Deb had obviously had a few too many and wasn't showing signs of stopping. She was twirling her hair around her fingers while she and Paul talked. Her nipples were standing tall beneath the thin white fabric of her top, and it wasn't from chill air this time. I felt like a third wheel. When Paul got up to use the bathroom I asked her if we could go and continue where we had left off. She chastised me for wanting to ditch my friend and said we had the rest of the weekend for us. Paul came back and things picked up where they had left off. The conversation turned to teasing flirtation before too long, and I sought refuge in my beer.

Last call came like a savior. We were finishing up our drinks and saying our goodbyes. Paul mentioned what a great time he had had with us, and how sad it was that the night was ending so soon. That's when Deb suggested that we go back to our place for a few more. I wanted to argue, but couldn't find a way to fill her in on Paul's and mine relationship without completely emasculating myself. We rode to our house in Paul's truck. He suggested that I had had a few too many. What a great guy, huh? I ended up in the cramped back seat. Paul had turned the radio up just enough that I was having trouble hearing their conversation. Paul said something to Deb that made her turn her head away and blush, then she turned back to face him as he stared at her confidently until she finally smiled and blushed again.

When we finally arrived back at our house, Deb suggested that I make us some drinks. When I came back to the living room, Deb was sitting on the couch laughing with Paul who had positioned himself on the couch next to her. He wasn't so close to her that it would seem inappropriate, but it stopped me from joining them on the couch without feeling awkward. Paul was telling her about how he had just been dumped by his last girlfriend, but was lighthearted about it. She asked him what had caused the breakup, and he just smiled and said he'd prefer not to say.

She gave him a playful push, "C'mon. Did you sneak around on her?" she joked.

"No, nothing like that," Paul said. "It was my, um, that is, it was a physical thing." Paul looked down into his drink like he wanted to avoid the topic. He had stopped trying to include me in the conversation. I sat on a chair opposite the couch, trying to look like I was enjoying the night.

"Oops! I'm sorry Paul." Deb looked serious for a second, and then she grinned mischievously. "You know they make pills for that now."

They shared a laugh. Then Paul said, "That has never been a problem for me. It was an issue of size." He paused to let her mind go to down the obvious route and then added, "She said I was too large downstairs, if you get my drift." Deb's eyes widened. She shifted uncomfortably for a moment and then gave him a teasing punch in the leg.

"Oh please. Like women ever worry about that." She laughed nervously and glanced down at his crotch. There was an obvious bulge growing down his thigh. Then Deb glanced over at me and said, "Baby, you don't ever have to worry about that. You fit me just right." I smiled and looked over at Paul who had spread his legs a bit so Deb could get a better look. He was giving me that 'What are you going to do about it?' grin I'd come to know so well. Deb and he continued talking. She kept accusing him of bragging or just overcompensating for his insecurity, but she couldn't quit staring at the long pole working its way down Paul's thigh.

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