THE STREET URCHIN

[Miguel85]

The Street Urchin - CHAPTER 5

The night air was chilly and unforgiving, and Cassian's body trembled with each sob that wracked his frame. He couldn't stop crying, his tears dripping down onto the stone beneath him as he thought about his tiny penis, now shrinking even more from the cold. "Is that all it takes to be a man? A huge dick?" he thought, his mind consumed by existential dread. "Will anyone ever look at me with respect again? Will none of my actions matter, will my life not matter, all because I have a small penis?" The thought of his exposed body being on display for the entire town to see was too much to bear, made him sick to his stomach.

As the hours dragged on, strangers would occasionally walk by and make cruel comments about his size. "I don't think I've ever seen a penis that small on a boy of that age, don't you agree m'dear?" one woman said to her companion, giggling. "Oh yes darling, he looks like a little girl down there," the man replied, their laughter echoing through the square. Cassian felt like he was dying inside, his shame and humiliation burning brighter with each passing moment.

Sometimes, random people would come by and slap him on the ass or whip him with sticks or ropes. Cassian would cry out in pain and surprise, but there was nothing he could do to defend himself trapped in the stocks. He couldn't even turn around to see who was attacking him, leaving him feeling helpless and vulnerable. As the night wore on, Cassian began to feel exhausted, his body screaming for rest. But there was no sleep to be found in this position, strapped into the stocks with nary an inch to move, let alone escape.

As the hours ticked by, Cassian's thoughts grew more disjointed and desperate. He just wanted to shut off the world and disappear into nothingness. But just as it seemed things couldn't get any worse, he heard music drifting through the air. At first it was faint, but it grew louder and louder until Cassian could feel the vibrations of drums and the sound of lutes approaching. He looked up to see a troupe of traveling performers – jugglers, acrobats, musicians – pouring into the town square. Cassian shuddered as he realized that among them were many kids his own age.

[Miguel85]

(warning: Possibly extreme? Saw the note, sure how to "tag" a post)

The Street Urchin - CHAPTER 6

The group started setting up their camp around Cassian's prone form. The ones who noticed him first were some curious teens; one boy, about 15 years old, pointed at Cassian's crotch and exclaimed loudly, "Eww, what's wrong with that guy's thing?" A younger girl giggled and said, "I don't know, but it's tiny!" Some younger boys nearby burst out laughing upon seeing Cassian's predicament, calling out insults such as "Wormdick!" and "Shrimpy." As more kids gathered around, they began to jeer loudly at the humiliated Cassian.

"Hey, look at the little dickless clown!" one of them jeered, pointing at Cassian's painted face. "You're a painted-up floozy, aren't you?" another boy chimed in, giggling. Cassian begged for mercy, his crying becoming so horrible that he sounded like a braying donkey, a string of snot, drool and tears hanging awfully from his chin. "Puh-puh-please, suh-suh-stop! Please have muh-muh-m-mercy!" he wailed, but the kids just laughed and teased him more.

A girl dressed like an acrobat, about 12 years old, approached with a mischievous grin. “What’s your name, pretty girl?” she asked mockingly.

Cassian didn’t have to answer, but in between sobs he managed to speak: “C-Cassian.”

“Ooh, a pretty name for a pretty little girl” she cooed and started slapping Cassian on the face repeatedly. "You're so weak and pathetic, aren’t you!" she exclaimed, each slap making Cassian cry out in pain. “Look at your pretty little girl face, oh, I hope I don’t ruin your makeup!”

Another kid threw mud on Cassian’s head, covering his hair in sticky brown glop. "Ha! You look like a real mess now!" the boy shouted, laughing. The other kids and teens joined in, pouring water on Cassian and making his body glisten in the firelight. "Look at him shine like a pretty girl!" one of them said, teasing him about his hairlessness. “He’s got such a girly body! Why does he have a girly body!?” a boy laughed. “He must be a girl,” another responded.

The kids ate, drank, played and teased, refusing Cassian any water or food whenever he’d find the strength to beg for some.

“Please, I’m s-so t-t-thirsty, p-please!” he sobbed to more laughter.

“We don’t share our food with painted-up sodomites!” a boy shouted from the crowd.

As the humiliation continued, Cassian's bladder finally got the better of him and he started peeing himself.

“Oh God, not now, ohgodohgodohgodohgod!!!” the boy cried but couldn’t stop the flow once it had begun.

The pee trickled down one leg, squirting out of his shrunken penis. The crowd howled with laughter at this new development. "Oh my god, he's pissing himself, like a little baby!" one of them exclaimed.

Impossibly, he just kept on peeing, longer than anyone thought possible, delighting and horrifying the onlookers, spurning on more laughter and jeering. The never-ending stream of piss gave the acrobat girl an idea: she tossed out the beverage she had in her mug and held the empty container up against Cassian’s tiny member, slowly filling it up.

She held the mug up to the crowd, as if it was a prize she had won. Cassian sobbed, unable to stop pissing himself, his mouth open in a horrible grimace.

“Hey pretty girl, have a drink of this!” the young acrobat girl announced, and with one swift move tossed the contents of her mug – Cassian’s own hot urine – all over his face. The crowd exploded into guffaws and jeers.

The captive boy absolutely lost it. If his cries were awful before, they somehow reached a new level of terrible. He was like a full grown infant, crying hysterically, nearly barking with anguish, swaying about wildly in his bonds, eyes wide and panicky, darting around for help that wouldn’t come. His mouth now tasted of piss – his own piss – and his eyes stung. How could anyone suffer such indignity, especially him, the rebel who was once so admired?

But somehow it was about to get worse. As the humiliation continued, one of the boys mockingly peeled a banana in front of Cassian's face, holding it tantalizingly close to the hungry boy’s mouth before going around his back.

Then, an awful feeling Cassian had never experienced before: a peeled banana being forcibly pushed against his butthole.

"Eat this, you little wormdick sodomite!" the kid shouted as he shoved.

Cassian felt a wave of horror and degradation wash over him as he realized what was happening. He felt the banana push its way up his anus, an awful violation that would stay with him until the end of his days. It just kept going in. How could this be? Aren’t bananas soft? How could this be happening to HIM, to the Great Cassian!?

“How do you like that, you fat-ass!?” someone from the crowd shouted.

Cassian snapped out of his shameful haze and immediately tightened his sphincter and his buttcheeks as much as he could, but part of the banana – he couldn’t tell how much, half, maybe more – was already inside him. Cassian let out a strangled scream of humiliation, he sobbed, he grunted awfully, he thrashed about madly. This was the worst moment of his life – and all because of a stupid loaf of bread.

"Ha! Look at that, he can't even take a whole banana!" the cruel boy exclaimed, then smooshed the rest of the banana all around Cassian's plump backside as the other kids erupted into laughter and jeers.

Cassian's mind recoiled in disgust and shame, his psyche destroyed by these cruel tormentors, by this entire experience. He shut his eyes tightly, fresh tears pouring out, mouth agape in an endless howl. Then another new, awful feeling: the banana peel being shoved into his mouth. He gagged on it for a moment then quickly spat it out. He then somehow cried even harder.

The circus performers danced around Cassian as they continued to mock and humiliate him. One boy started making fun of Cassian's tight testicles, calling them "baby acorns", while another remarked that he didn’t even have any hair on his armpits, “what is wrong with this guy, didn’t he go through puberty?!”

Another boy picked up a lute and started making up a song on the spot:

"Cassian has a tiny pee-pee,
It's so small no-one can see-see!
He's got no hair down there,
He cries like a donkey and we all stare!
He pees himself like a newborn baby,
And looks like a girl all fancy-free!
Cassian is our special clown,
The biggest loser we've ever found!"

The other kids joined in, dancing around him, singing their song, making it very clear to Cassian what they thought of him, what everyone thought of him: pathetic, dickless, crying, girly, fat-ass loser. A fat-ass loser with half a banana up his asshole.

As the night wore on Cassian's wailing sobs lit up the darkness with their anguished sound, but the circus performers' laughter grew louder – they reveled, dancing triumphantly around their humiliated captive.

[littl1p]

Loving this one so far. It’s fun having people compare him to things and he keeps losing. Keep up the good work

[Miguel85]

The fire had died down, and the performers retired to their tents, leaving Cassian alone in the darkness.

In the middle of the night, a vision... a hallucination... an angel? He could barely make out the figure, his vision blurry and his eyes almost swollen shut from so much crying. Whoever this person was, they were kind enough to pour some much-needed water into his parched mouth.

"Thank you," Cassian whispered, his voice hoarse. More water was given to him, and then more. He almost felt human again, for just a moment, before a slap cracked across his face, followed by nine more in quick succession.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! "Don't thank me, you disgusting little worm!" the crazy acrobat girl exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with a manic intensity.

"Can you believe everyone is seeing you naked?" she sneered. "Aren't you humiliated to have such a small dick?"

Cassian tried to respond, but his voice was barely audible. "I...I don't know," he stammered.

The girl laughed. "You don't know? You don't know how humiliating it is to have a tiny little pecker? Let me tell you, it's hilarious!" She slapped him again, just for emphasis.

Cassian sputtered, unable to come up with the words. She continued to push, slapping him again. “Well, are you humiliated or not?!”

The boy could take no more. “I AM!!!!” he shouted! “I am humiliated, I just cuh-cuh-can’t … I-I-I’m muh-muh-MORTIFIED!!”

“Why are you so humiliated, Cassian? Why are you mortified, after all, you’re such a pretty girl!”

This mental torture – being forced to think about his situation, to attempt to rationalize it, to explain to someone how he was feeling – was somehow worse than the psychical torture he'd been enduring. But he felt he had to play her game or risk more slaps, more objects inserted into his anus.

He began sobbing anew. “I’m huh-huh-humiliated b-because, because everyone can see muh-muh-my tiny d-dick!” he shouted.

“Good girl,” she smirked, and assaulted him with ten more alternating slaps to each cheek.

As the night wore on, Cassian's mind began to blur from exhaustion and pain. The girl's words became a distant drone, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of shame and degradation that had settled over him like a shroud.

“How old are you anyway, Cassian?”

“F-fiteen…”

“No way! You have the dick of a one-year old, I’m not even kidding!”

“Ugggghhh…”

“When do you turn 16, Cassian?”

“In… in August…”

“In two months!? So you’re basically sixteen!?”

“Ugggghhhh…..”

“Six…” SLAP! “Teen!” SLAP! “You’re practically a sixteen year old boy, look at yourself! Have you not gone through puberty yet?” SLAP!

“Uuuughghhhh….”

“I guess we both know the answer to that,” she cackled. "You're nothing but a pathetic little girl," she spat at him. "You'll never be a man. You'll never be anything but a joke, you poor little thing," as she said this she tenderly caressed his face.

Cassian felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes again, but he was too exhausted to cry. What the hell is going on, he thought. Why does she slap me then caress me, why does she give me water only to torture me?!

The girl continued to torment Cassian until the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon. She stood up to leave, and slapped him again. Then, the unthinkable: she reached down between his trembling legs and tugged on his tiny dick, now practically just a knot of foreskin above shrunken testicles. Cassian gasped -- he had never been touched there before.

“Gross, it feels just like a little worm,” she smirked. She tugged on it some more, as if trying to awaken it, or to find some girth, some mass, something to it more than just foreskin. Finally, it stirred. In an instant it had grown… nothing very impressive, maybe two inches, maybe a little more, but it was something. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Your little worm is awake,” she smirked.

Cassian blushed, confused, and avoided her gaze, shame and pleasure in his face. “Look at me, Little Worm,” she commanded. It was all too much… his helpless situation, the eye contact, her touch… after less than 10 seconds of tugging Cassian started grunting, and his whole body spasmed as his ‘little worm’ squirted into her hand, the first time that had ever happened from someone else’s touch. The acrobat girl pulled her hand back, then looked at him, disappointed. “Pathetic,” she smirked, “look at the little mess you’ve made.” She held up her hand, sticky and gooey, then rubbed it on the boy’s face and hair.

"Goodbye for now, Little Worm," she said with a smile, then slapped him one more time, hard. His ears started ringing. "Maybe I'll see you again."

Cassian watched her go through wet, crossed eyes, very confused, as his drippy penis shrunk back down to nearly nothing.

As the morning sun rose higher in the sky, Cassian remained locked up in the pillory, his body reeking of urine and his hair matted with dried mud and his own semen. His legs had never felt more tired, his back never hurt more. His asshole hurt from the banana stuck up there. Every muscle screamed out in agony, and he couldn't help but wonder how much longer he would be subjected to this torture. The uncertainty was suffocating, and Cassian's mind was consumed by the desperate hope that someone, somewhere, would put an end to his suffering.

[Miguel85]

The Street Urchin - Chapter 8

Soon the upper-class kids were on their way to school, and couldn't resist stopping by to gawk at Cassian some more. He was a pitiful sight, with mud caked in his hair and the stench of urine wafting from his body. The remnants of yesterday's banana incident still lingered, with smeared fruit surrounding his butt and a chunk stuck inside, hidden from view. The kids burst out laughing at the sight of him, and another round of mockery ensued. "Look at him, he's even more disgusting than yesterday!" one young boy exclaimed. "What a loser, still crying like a baby!" another chimed in.

The boy who whipped him the day before, clearly enjoying the attention, picked up the thin branch again and began to smack Cassian's ass with renewed ferocity. Cassian let out a blood-curdling scream as the branch cracked against his skin, leaving red welts behind. "Suh-Stop! Puh-puh-please stop!" he begged, but the boy just laughed and continued to taunt him. "You're nothing but a filthy little pig!" he spat. "You deserve to be treated like this!" The other kids cheered him on, egging him to continue the torture.

But the boy didn't stop at just whipping Cassian's ass. He began to poke and hit Cassian's nipples with the end of the stick, making him shriek in agony. Then, he started poking at Cassian's tiny penis and balls, leaving the boy to beg for mercy.

"Ugghh puh-puh-Please! Stop! Please, I cuh-cuh-can’t take anymooOoore!" a horrified Cassian wailed, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. “Puh-puh-PLEASE, I’ll do a-anything, PLEASE!!!”

But the kids were having too much fun watching him suffer. "Look at his tiny dick!" one of them jeered. "It's no wonder he's so pathetic!"

As Cassian's body convulsed with sobs, he felt as if he was being torn apart from the inside out. The crying seemed to have taken on a life of its own, as if some unseen force had reached into his throat and was pulling out great, racking wails that left him gasping for air. He tried to stop, he really did – he knew that his tears only made him appear more pathetic to the jeering crowd, that each sob and sniffle was a further humiliation. But it was no use; the crying seemed to be an autonomous thing, a beast that had awakened within him and refused to be silenced. His face contorted into a hideous grimace, his eyes bulging and his mouth twisted into a gaping, toothy maw. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mixing with the dirt and grime and makeup to create a sticky, salty mask that seemed to cling to his skin like a bad omen. And yet, even as he felt himself being consumed by this torrent of grief, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow complicit in his own degradation – that by crying so uncontrollably, he was actively participating in his own humiliation. The thought only made him cry harder, until he was braying like a donkey again and drooling all over himself in a spectacle of utter misery.

"Look at him cry!" one of the onlookers sneered. "He's like a baby who's lost his pacifier!" A well-dressed teenage boy chimed in, "Yeah, or maybe he's just allergic to dignity!" The laughter and taunts washed over Cassian like a wave of filth, but he couldn't stop crying – it was as if his body had become a fountain of despair, and he was powerless to turn off the tap.

The cruel boy finally stopped poking at Cassian’s shrunken member and went back around for a second round of ass-whipping. TWACK! TWACK! TWACK! The sound of the thin branch rang out in the town square with each violent whip, followed by a yelp from Cassian. Suddenly his stomach lurched and he felt his groin constrict painfully.

PLOP! More than half of a banana fell out of his ass onto the cobblestones below.

The crowd lost it. “AAAAHHH!” the boy with the tree branch leaped back in horror. “Did a banana just fall out of his ASS!?” A nearby girl gasped, “he just shat out a banana, like a whole banana!!”

Cassian tried to stop what was about to happen, but like most things over the past 24 hours, he simply had no control. “No… no… no no no! No NO! NO NO NO NO!!!!” he started repeating maniacally.

Cassian’s entire body trembled and twisted, tightened and convulsed, looking like some horrible mix of being electrocuted and having an orgasm. With the entire crowd’s attention now focused on the boy’s plump ass, he finally lost control of his bowels, shitting himself in public. His body kept wanting to bend at the middle, to sit, to squat, but that was simply impossible while trapped in the stocks. So he struggled, he grunted and cried, he thrashed around in his bondage, his big ass jiggling comically as he degraded himself more than he’d ever thought possible.

The crowd screamed in a mix of horror and delight. "Oh my god, he's shitting himself!" one of them exclaimed. "He’s disgusting!” a pretty young blonde girl said, “Get me away from this filthy animal!" The onlookers all took a step back, covering their noses in distaste.

"Ha! Look at you now!" the boy with the stick cackled. "You're nothing but a piece of crap! Literally!" The insults kept coming: “GROSS!” “he’s a pervert!” “he’s SO disgusting, how could he do that!?” “what a dickless fucking loser!” “CRY-BABY!”

The other kids all burst out laughing again, and as they finally headed off to school, they left Cassian behind in his own mess of feces and urine-soaked despair.