There was an attempt

Even though the whole world had accepted BNWO, there were still a few stubborn outliers.

One of them showed up to Kira’s evening yoga class.

He was a skinny whiteboi in tight black shorts that left almost nothing to the imagination. Throughout the session he kept adjusting himself, stretching a little too deliberately, making sure the soft bulge between his legs was visible whenever she walked past. Near the end of class, while everyone else was in downward dog, he “accidentally” flexed hard enough that the tip of his chemically enhanced clitty pushed clearly against the thin fabric.

Kira noticed.

She finished the pose, dismissed the rest of the class with a warm smile, and waited until only the two of them remained on the studio floor. Then she walked over, still in her tiny yoga shorts and sports bra, and looked down at the obvious outline.

A slow, amused smile spread across her face.

“What’s that?” she asked softly, tilting her head.

He stood up straighter, clearly proud. “It’s my dick. Sorry about the… indecent exposure. Didn’t mean for it to slip out like that.”

Kira laughed.

The sound started low and then climbed higher, bright and genuinely delighted. She covered her mouth for a second, still giggling.

“Oh my god. You actually think that’s a dick?” She shook her head, eyes sparkling. “Baby, just because you injected your little clitty with a bunch of chemicals to make it look bigger doesn’t magically turn it into a real one. That’s still just a swollen whiteboi clit.”

His face flushed. “It’s not a clit. It’s a dick. I’ve been on the cycle for months—”

Kira reached out without warning and wrapped her fingers around the soft bulge through his shorts. The moment she gave it a firm squeeze, something warm and watery leaked out, instantly soaking a small dark patch into the fabric.

She laughed even harder.

“There it is,” she said, still holding him. “A weak little watery leak. No force, no volume, nothing. Just a sad little dribble.” She gave the soft flesh another gentle squeeze and watched another thin trickle escape. “That’s the difference between an imitation and a real one. A real dick doesn’t leak like a broken faucet the second a woman touches it. A real dick is thick and heavy and can actually stretch a woman open. This?” She jiggled the soft, leaking clitty in her hand. “This is just a chemically inflated little shrimp that still doesn’t know its place.”

He tried to step back, but she kept her grip, smiling up at him with pure mockery.

“Next time you want to flex something in my class,” she said sweetly, “make sure it’s actually worth looking at.”