Cory Miller wasn't gifted with an athletic body, or a brain with the IQ of 180. No. This is a story about a boy who, through no fault of his own, yet due to the genetic lottery, was born with a rather small penis. Yet, that wasn't the worst of it, his mother had walked in on him, by accident, when he was measuring it when he turned eighteen last summer before his senior year. How he wanted to die that day when his mother dropped the laundry basket she had been holding as she doubled over in laughter. She couldn't keep it to herself. No. Not his mother. She had to spread it around the family that their son and their brother had a teeny tiny cock. She even went as far as to give him the nickname of 'Li'l Stanley.' It was never 'Hi Cory!', 'How you doing, Cory?' and such, no, it was "Hi, Li'l Stanley!' His two older sisters took the most pleasure out of his torment. Some days his mother, and even his father, would join in. Was it his fault he was born with such a small size? If anything that particular genetic anomaly falls on his parents; he was, after all, a mixture of both of them.
"Hey, Li'l Stanley." How he sneered at the sound of his twenty-one-year-old sister's voice. "I need some help, you mind helping me, you've always been better at math than I am," Dayana said, in a sweet tone to butter up her brother. Her blonde hair brushing along her chest. Her t-shirt was tight against her 38B breasts foretelling she wore no bra underneath.
"First, you insult me, then you ask for my help? Go fuck yourself, Dayana. Don't you have some party to slut it up at?" Cory asked, his venom wasn't hard to miss.
"Hey, you can't talk to Dayana like that?!" Zoe said, defending her older sister. "If you don't like it, grow a bigger dick!" she spat.
"If I could I would. But you see there's this thing called DNA, something you two college know-it-alls should be aware of. You simply can't change it. If you want to look at someone look at your parents. They're the ones who did this to me," Cory sneered. "And shouldn't you be surrounded by your football team, blowing each and every one of them in your bukkaki fetish?" he asked, peering over at his middle sister. Knowing that Dayana had bought Zoe booze when they were out given how Zoe was almost twenty.
"Mom!" Zoe yelled for their mother. Her sandy blonde hair matched their mother's along with her 32D breasts given how they had swapped out bras when the strap of their mother's broke one day. Their mother, Celeste, stood a little over six feet, being forty-two, his friends, those few he brought home, were always smitten by her and his sisters. 'If they only knew the real them.' He would always say to himself when they would go on and on about how hot they were. Cory didn't see the appeal. He had lived with their verbal abuse for the past five years and he was growing tired of it. He was so glad he was almost done with high school. Then he would leave for college and most likely stay there for the next four years, then find himself a nice job far away from his parents.
"What's the matter?" Celeste's smooth, sinful voice drifted up the stairs.
"Li'l Stanley is in here calling us whores and sluts," Dayana called back glaring at her brother.
"Cory! You get your ass down here right this second!"
"No, thank you!" Cory shouted back stunning his sisters. No one said no to their mother, not even their father, she was that much of a force of nature. Sure, his heart was racing when he heard her feet on the steps, yet he was going to face down this fire-breathing monster. They might have crushed his spirit, pushed him into depression, and his low self-esteem, yet he wasn't going to have it any longer!
"You're in for it now," Zoe snickered as she and Dayana backed away to enjoy the show. They both looked perplexed when Cory turned his chair to face the door with his arms crossed.
"Yes, just barge in, no knock or anything," Cory said, coldly. Silently taking note of how that stopped her... if only for a second.
"What's this I hear about you calling your sisters sluts and whores?" Her green eyes burned in her fury. No one, not even her son used that term for her daughters.
"What? Don't like the truth?" Cory asked, arching an eyebrow. "If they don't want to be called sluts and whores maybe they shouldn't be sluts and whore..." Dayana and Zoe gasped as the slap reverberated loudly in Cory's room.