Page 2 of Learning to Change

“Oh.” Joel looked down at Tate’s lap and frowned even harder. “Are stingers that small proportionally? I always thought of them as big.”

“What the fuck, man?” Tate’s eyes got wider than his dick. “My stinger is fucking huge.”

And he proved that by taking it out of his pants.

He needed to wear underwear more often.

“See?” Wrapping his hand around his growing dick and giving it a few rough jerks, Tate glared at Joel. “I’m almost nine fucking inches when I’m sober hard. Don’t be an asshole.”

He’d measured his dick while sober and drunk?

Were we supposed to do that?

I’d only given my sober number…should I have been giving a range?

How much was he rounding to get almost nine inches?

Joel blinked a few times before sticking his hand close to Tate’s erection and measuring it with his fingers. “I meant bees’ actual stingers. It seems like half their bodies are stingers and that would be like a three-foot dick on a human. But are you sure you’re almost nine inches?”

I was way too sober to deal with this ridiculousness.

“I said sober hard I was almost nine inches.” Rolling his eyes, Tate continued to jerk himself off as Joel’s finger got closer and closer. “Whiskey dick is a real thing. Don’t get drunk if you’re going to top.”

Having no idea what to say to that or the way Joel seemed to be petting one finger along Tate’s stinger, I just flopped down on the floor in front of the couch. Not for the view of course. I was tired. Yep, just tired.

“I have no desire to top and I’m not sure your dick would comfortably fit in anyone’s ass if it got any bigger.” Still studying the cock in question, Joel kept petting it. “You’ve got a great stinger, though. Don’t worry about size.”

They were insane.

How had I forgotten how weird they got when they were drunk?

“I don’t think size is supposed to matter in most BDSM stuff either.” Inching closer, Joel spread his fingers to measure the tip to base length of Tate’s cock. “I found a few websites that talk about how to humiliate a sub if you want to tease him about having a small dick, though. But they were pretty clear that everyone was supposed to be on the same page with that. Like, no messing with a guy’s head without it being on that ingredient list. You know?”

“Limits list.” It was not a BDSM ingredient list. “It’s a limits list.”

And we really should’ve gone over those again before letting Joel drink anything.

“Was that on your list? Should that be on your list? I can’t remember.” Tate didn’t seem to have any issue with Joel petting his cock but he gave it a squeeze to make it look better. “I don’t want to pretend to be small, but we could put you in a cock cage and pretend you were cute and tiny.”

Thankfully, Joel didn’t seem to think Tate was actually saying he had a small dick, so we didn’t have to sort through the drama that might come with that. He was drunk as a skunk but took the question seriously. “I don’t know. It looked kind of cool. The cage would make it small enough to fuck with my head.”

So he wanted us to fuck with his head?

When he’d first started making random comments about all the weird shit people were doing in the building, it hadn’t sounded like he’d wanted to try anything specific. I was starting to think that was because he just hadn’t found the right parts of the internet yet.

“Then we can do that, man.” Tate reached his free arm over his body and ruffled Joel’s hair. “I’d love to cage you and tell you what a cute little dick you have. I bet it’d be adorable.”

“It would be.” Joel had just enough alcohol to think pushing the front of his track shorts down was a great idea. “See? The internet said it’s well sculpted and perfectly proportional.”

Huh?

“It is. It’s like one you’d see for parts modeling.” Tate was taking the ridiculous conversation way too seriously and released his own dick long enough to pat Joel’s. “It would look really good small, though. You’re right.”

“Let’s go back a second.” Before they wandered off again or I forgot what to worry about. “You know you’re not supposed to put pictures of your dick on the internet, right? We talked about no sending dick pics when that asshole senior wanted pictures of your cock.”

Thankfully, I’d been a smarter freshman than Joel had been and I’d put a stop to that shit right away. My parents hadn’t known to include BDSM stuff in their lecture, but they’d added the no dick pics part very clearly.

Joel rolled his eyes, though.

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