Little Dicks Loney Hearts Club

(all of these stories are basically true) 

Rob came up to me between sets and said he needed a favor.

He was one of the old crowd from the regional high school who came to see the band, on the extremely unlikely chance they might pick up a girl and get laid.

Rob, Alf and Tom were the nerdy set that kept up their friendship after graduation, as unpopular now as they were then, mostly because they fell into the category of having little dicks.

In clubs like this, they only way to make up for having a small dick was to have a lot of money or work for the band like I did.

I would have fallen into their lonely hearts club, too, had I not lucked on and become sound man, a similar fate for the rest of the road crew.

I didn’t get laid a lot, but at least I wasn’t a virgin the way Tom and Alf were. Rob only last his virginity because Hank’s girl, Peggy, had felt sorry for him that one weekend when Hank went out of town.

Having a small dick meant for a very lonely life, made worse by the club scene where big dicks got all the chick.

“What favor?” I asked Rob, assuming he needed a loan. He worked for an auto parts store for very little pay, while my day job at a warehouse brought me a better wage.

“We want you to tell us which one of us looks the most like a girl,” Rob said, while Alf and Tom looked a bit embarrassed on the other side of the club, well-aware of what Tom asked me.

“Why?” I asked, a bit embarrassed myself, since I felt a bit gay in making that assessment.

“Because we want to get laid,” Rob said. “We’ve decided the only way that’s going to happen is if one of us becomes a sissy, and the other two get to fuck her.”

My mouth must have fallen open with the shock of it. This was no joke. These three seemed to see this as a long-term solution, a guarantee the three of them would always get lucky.

“You’re talking to the wrong person,” I said.

“But we trust you,” Tom said. “Anybody else would laugh at us.”

I wasn’t laughing; It wasn’t funny to me since I might have been one of them if fortune had turned a different way.

Rob, with his delicate features, struck me as the most likely candidate. The other two were bulkier, too much like their working class fathers. Rob seemed to know this, too, but wanted someone to tell him it was okay for him to take the plunge.

Maybe he was even attracted to the idea in a more fundamental way, knowing that he would always have two men interested in him, when nobody loved him as he was today, a perpetual riveraly for Rob’s affections – even though unlike typical bar girls – he had too much of a conscience to fully exploit it.

“I don’t know anything about turning someone into a sissy,” I told Tom, seeing a shadow of disappointment in his eyes.

“But you must know someone who does?”

Yes, a few of the girls that followed the band sometimes teased me in that way, suggesting I might look good dressed up and with makeup. They were teasing me because I didn’t have the big dick they went home with each night.

But would they push things as far as Rob and his buddies wanted to go? How far is too far before there is no turning back. And did Rob really want to go that far, to trade in his small dick for giving blow jobs and anal penetration? Did he fully understand that once he got there, he would become a play thing for men with any size dick.

Maybe he did. Maybe that was the attraction, to become something he’s never been able to be: popular, even if it meant he might have to have sex with every other man in the bar.

With a heavy heart, I directed him to those other girls. He thanked me profusely.

But before he would make contact, I made contact with them first, a clutch of the more popular band followers, who frequently went out to the parking lot with band members between sets.

Liza was the most brazen, and I told her what Rob wanted. She grinned.

“You mean he wants to do what you won’t?” she teased.

“I’m serious, Lisa,” I said. “Please be kind to him.”

Something glinted in her eyes. “Aren’t I always?”

“No,” I said. “Sometimes, you can be down right cruel.”

“Only with you,” she said. “But I’ll do my best. And who knows, if he turns out right, maybe you’re reconsider and I can as much for you.”

“Stop kidding,” I said, and turned to walk away.

“Who’s kidding.”

At first, I thought it would all blow over, and it seemed to, Tom, Alf and Rob showed up together each time the band played here, taking their place at the bar with other losers like themselves, the Little Dick Loney Hearts Club.

After a few weeks, I noticed Lisa and Rob seemed more openly friendly with each other, and then, I saw the changes start.

Not all as once, subtle at first, as if Lisa did not want to scare Rob out of the scheme, or to shock the rest of us with something too dramatic. In the men’s room, I noticed Rob coming out of one of the stalls. He couldn’t pull closed his pants fast enough to avoid my seeing him girly underwear and after closer examination, panty house.

“Lisa suggested it,” he finally admitted. “She said it would make me feel more like a girl.”

This was followed by a more obvious change in his clothing: blouses and slacks that other girls at the bar might kill to wear. When he showed up with a bulge to his chest, I confronted him about wearing a bra.

“I have to,” he said. “With the hormones I’m on, I’ve actually developed breasts.”

This caused another change of wardrobe. Skirts instead of sacks, and shirts that exposed Rob’s cleavage.

Most people didn’t notice the makeup at first, just a touch to his lashes, though Rob clearly had done other things. But when he started wearing earrings, red lipstick and red nails, others began to talk.

Eventually, everything boyish about Tom vanished, and he appeared at the club completely dressed as a girl, acting like a girl, flirting with the boys like a girl.

Tom and Alf were elated, hovering around her like proud husbands, clearly having succeeded in one essential part of their plan: they were getting laid regularly along with the regular blow jobs Rob gave them.

At first, the regular crowd of bid dicks laughed, mocking Rob, but not all.

There seemed to be a growing interest in Rob because in his new state, he was as pretty as any of the popular girls, and over weeks and months, the mocking stopped and the jockeying began.

The hefty big dick men lined up to take Rob out into the parking lot or to take her home at night.

“You like may handiwork?” Lisa asked me.

“I’m amazed,” I admitted.

“Why aren’t you lining up with them, I’m sure Rob would like to show how grateful he is for all you’ve done for him.”

“Not interested,” I said, drawing that same look from Liza.

“Is that because you’re secretly a bottom?” she asked.

“Stop it,” I said.

But Lisa would not.

“I can’t make you into a stunning woman,” she said. “You’ll be even more popular than Rob.”

“I said stop it!”

She shrugged. “It’s your loss.”

Not long later, Tom and Alf came up  to me where I sat behind the sound board.

“We need a favor,” Tom said as Alf nodded in agreement.

“No, I’m not going to find someone to turn you into girls,” I said.

“God No. We don’t want that.” Tom said.

“Then what do you want?”

“We need for you to help us turn Rob back,” Tom said.

“Rob has become so popular he doesn’t have time for us anymore,” added Alf.

They looked utterly sincere, and extremely disappointed when I said, “There’s no turning back, boys. She’s graduated from the Little Dick Lonely Hearts Club and you’re going to have to live with it.”

email to Al Sullivan