Of a certain something

Around noon the next day, you were back in the garden exchanging slightly flirtatious messages with Trev. His hoody was hanging on the line nearby, along with yesterday’s bedsheets and dress. Your bus shelter encounter certainly seemed to have only increased his enthusiasm for wanting to get to know you better, and he was already floating suggestions for another meet up soon. For what it was worth, you were also already toying around with fantasies of what to do when next you had that boy and his meat to hand. You simply couldn't help yourself; when you had been introduced to a phallus it felt like you'd made a new friend or adopted a pet. In a way, genitalia were the only thing you obsessively collected; the slutty, sissy variation on your own still nerdy instincts. You learned each set by heart, pussy or penis: memorising every aspect from size to shape to particular quirks of sensitivity.

A rattle at the gate broke you out of your sex-organ daydreams. Tomi already come around enough to skip out on his lunch break? You skipped across to unlatch it with a wide smile of hope… But it was not the right teenager who greeted you. Instead it was ‘Shelly’, the permed, ginger thing who served as your pretty, young neighbour’s sometimes tormentor sometimes best friend. You had heard a lot about her, over that afternoon the boy had helped you in the garden. From the sound of it she was also a collector of sorts, except her obsession was on the more shy, nervous and socially rejected of her classmates. Sweeping them under her wing to mother or smother on a whim. You had met a few similar characters during your own dances around the edge of highschool politics: Fiercely protective, but also just a little too determined to be involved and informed of everything you thought or did. In fact, you supposed Roxanne had very much been your college version of the same archetype… Which explained your immediate suspicion over Shelly and Tomi’s relationship.

Still, it would be unfair to judge this girl you didn’t know based on lingering resentment for your ex. You tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, even as, without asking, she pushed her way into your back garden.

“Oh good, you’re here.” She offered flatly, eyeing you up and down with much the same clinical judgement as she had last time.

“Errm… yes. But Tomi’s not, I'm afraid.” You offered, a little confused by the confidence in which she’d marched onto your property.

“I know. He’s the one who sent me.” The young woman replied, with a look like this should have been obvious.

“Oh…” Was all you could come up with, now even more at a loss… until suddenly you remembered: He’d had an idea how you could pay him back. Just what had the boy decided would make up for you shagging his mother?!

“I didn’t believe him at first. You’re so… pretty.” Shelly continued, surprising you with the compliment, before returning to a blunt command: “But, come on then… Get it out.”

“W-wha-?” You stammered, still struggling to catch up.

“You’re a man, right? And like a gimpy, whoreish, sub one?”

“Well… Yeah, sort of… but-”

“So show me your penis!”

You got the impression that the girl was trying to put an aura of unarguable dominance into her voice… yet it came off more like ‘stroppy little madam at a birthday party’. Even you were able to resist the urge to immediately obey.

“Listen, Shelly. I don’t know what Tomi told you… But I’m not about to lift up my skirt and whip out my cock just because some kid marches into my own back garden and tells me too!”

You were ready for a few different reactions to this outburst… but a flood of tears wasn’t one of them.