L.M.O.C, Part I (Patreon)

This is the December raffle story. Part II is a patron request, so you can expect it soon!

You gulped. Today was the day you were required to submit for a mandatory measurement by the sisters of Sigma Pi Heta. 

No one really remembered how or why the tradition started, but the sorority maintained a tradition of measuring all the male freshmen and giving the student who had the smallest penis the title of "Little Man on Campus." The sorority then paid his tuition in full, no questions asked. 

The downside? You were subject to brutal, abject humiliation for your entire four years. To the point where there was an annual award given to the club or sorority who pulled off the most humiliating prank on him. And of course, the Sigma sisters took it upon themselves to be the undisputed champions of tormenting the poor boy every year. They won year after year going back to at least the late 90s, but that sure didn't stop the others from trying to bring their A-game. The life of the LMOC was pure hell. 

Knowing your own limitations, you were reasonably sure that the "honor" of being the new LMOC was going to be thrust upon you as you walked into one of the makeshift exam tents the sorority had set up in the quad. A cute brunette with half-rim glasses, a slender frame, and a tight t-shirt emblazoned with "ΣπH" smiled at you. "Hello! Name?"

"Uh..." You shyly mumbled your name at her 

"Okay then..." she searched her clipboard and checked you off her list before setting it down and picking up a measuring tape. 

"Alright! Let's get you hard!" She gleefully exclaimed. Before you had even a second to ask what that entailed, she had pulled her t-shirt off over her head, freeing her cute, perky breasts, deceptively large despite how skinny she was. She smirked. And of course, it did exactly what she had intended; you immediately began stiffening in your pants at the mere sight of them.

"Take a good look, and when he's nice and hard, drop your pants for me, 'kay?" She gleefully instructed, glaring at your crotch and holding her ruler in both hands like a soldier holding a rifle. And you were about to face the firing squad.

With no way out and your mini-member at full mast, you slowly unbuttoned and unzipped to present what little you had to offer. This immediately earned a nose-chortle from the sorority girl tasked with inspecting you. 

"Pbhth! ...I mean, erm, snrk, Uh... Let's get you measured!" Stifling her urge to burst out laughing as best she could, she knelt down to get at eye level with your quivering shrimpdick. 

She then held the ruler along the dorsal side of your dick, and the floodgates burst; a fit of high-pitched, immature feminine giggles escaped her as she snatched the clipboard back up, frantically scrawling down the measurement she'd observed.

You turn beet red. 

"Thanks!" She blurted between bouts of giggling. "You're all set! Be seeing you around campus!" 

As you zipped up and walked away, you had a horrible feeling she was right.