21-10-2025, 11:03 AM
## Update 19: The Inspection
She returned with the glass. "Here's the water."
"Thanks, Madam," I said, taking it.
She sat down, her gaze distant, lost in thought. He's not talking about a friend; he's talking about himself. He thinks Madam won't find out, but you're forgetting that I've seen more of the world than you have. Either his penis is small, or it could be big. If it's small, it's no use to me. But if it's long, he said his friends' penises were long. I'll be having a great time.
"What are you thinking, Madam?" I asked, interrupting her intense silence.
"Nothing. I was just thinking about your friend," she said, lying smoothly.
To see his penis, I'll have to play some tricks, she concluded internally.
"I'm confused. What happened to my friend?" I asked, seeing the manufactured worry etched on her face.
"Seeing the worry on your face, I feel that maybe your friend might have a disease," she said, planting the seed of panic.
"What disease?" I asked, panicking instantly.
"If I see his penis, I can tell if he has a disease or not," she said, her eyes fixed on me, waiting for my reaction.
I thought for a tense moment, weighing the fear of a sickness against the shame of exposure.
"What's wrong? Why are you thinking so much? It's your friend who has the disease, not you," she said, trying to provoke me into dropping my guard.
"The thing is..." I started, hesitating, shame and fear battling on my tongue.
Now he's coming around, she thought.
"Yes, yes, say what you're saying," she urged, leaning forward slightly.
"I lied to you that..." I confessed, the words getting stuck.
"Yes, tell me," she said, her impatience barely concealed.
"That my friend's penis is long," I finally said, embarrassed.
"So is it small?" she asked, her excitement turning instantly to disappointment. Everything is ruined, she thought, fearing my body wouldn't meet her expectations.
"No, it's long, but it's not my friend's, it's..." I trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.
This boy is going to give me a heart attack, she thought, stifling a wave of frustration.
"Yes, say it clearly. What is it?" she demanded, pushing me past the point of no return.
"I wasn't talking about my friend, I was talking about myself," I blurted out, the confession a relief and a terror all at once.
"What?" she asked, feigning complete surprise.
"Yes, I think my penis is long," I confessed, looking down at my lap.
"I'll have to see it to know. And now I don't believe you. Maybe you're lying again," she said coyly, raising the bar one last time.
"No, Madam, I'm telling the truth. I was just scared and didn't know how to ask you, so I asked through my friend," I explained, needing her to understand.
"Okay, never mind. You got the answers to your questions, right?" she asked.
"Yes. But you said there could be a disease," I insisted, the fear still driving me.
"I can only tell by looking at it. How can I tell you just like that?" she reasoned, using her authority as a teacher.
"But how can I show you? I'm feeling shy," I whispered.
"If you're going to be shy, your disease can get worse," she warned, the final, decisive manipulation.
"No, no, I'll show you," I said, panicking at the thought of a disease. I stood up, fumbling with my clothing, and took off my pants and underwear. The long discussion and nervous anticipation had left my penis hard, standing erect. It was, as I thought, saluting Madam.
When Madam saw it, her professional mask shattered. Her mouth fell open. She just stood there, staring at my penis like a statue, completely frozen. It seemed like she had been bitten by a snake. I was terrified by her reaction. Do I have a disease? I thought, my fear increasing with every silent second. Madam was neither speaking nor doing anything. She was just staring. The entire room seemed to have disappeared; there was only Madam and my exposed self. My fear was overpowering me, trapped under her intense, unwavering gaze.
---
She returned with the glass. "Here's the water."
"Thanks, Madam," I said, taking it.
She sat down, her gaze distant, lost in thought. He's not talking about a friend; he's talking about himself. He thinks Madam won't find out, but you're forgetting that I've seen more of the world than you have. Either his penis is small, or it could be big. If it's small, it's no use to me. But if it's long, he said his friends' penises were long. I'll be having a great time.
"What are you thinking, Madam?" I asked, interrupting her intense silence.
"Nothing. I was just thinking about your friend," she said, lying smoothly.
To see his penis, I'll have to play some tricks, she concluded internally.
"I'm confused. What happened to my friend?" I asked, seeing the manufactured worry etched on her face.
"Seeing the worry on your face, I feel that maybe your friend might have a disease," she said, planting the seed of panic.
"What disease?" I asked, panicking instantly.
"If I see his penis, I can tell if he has a disease or not," she said, her eyes fixed on me, waiting for my reaction.
I thought for a tense moment, weighing the fear of a sickness against the shame of exposure.
"What's wrong? Why are you thinking so much? It's your friend who has the disease, not you," she said, trying to provoke me into dropping my guard.
"The thing is..." I started, hesitating, shame and fear battling on my tongue.
Now he's coming around, she thought.
"Yes, yes, say what you're saying," she urged, leaning forward slightly.
"I lied to you that..." I confessed, the words getting stuck.
"Yes, tell me," she said, her impatience barely concealed.
"That my friend's penis is long," I finally said, embarrassed.
"So is it small?" she asked, her excitement turning instantly to disappointment. Everything is ruined, she thought, fearing my body wouldn't meet her expectations.
"No, it's long, but it's not my friend's, it's..." I trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.
This boy is going to give me a heart attack, she thought, stifling a wave of frustration.
"Yes, say it clearly. What is it?" she demanded, pushing me past the point of no return.
"I wasn't talking about my friend, I was talking about myself," I blurted out, the confession a relief and a terror all at once.
"What?" she asked, feigning complete surprise.
"Yes, I think my penis is long," I confessed, looking down at my lap.
"I'll have to see it to know. And now I don't believe you. Maybe you're lying again," she said coyly, raising the bar one last time.
"No, Madam, I'm telling the truth. I was just scared and didn't know how to ask you, so I asked through my friend," I explained, needing her to understand.
"Okay, never mind. You got the answers to your questions, right?" she asked.
"Yes. But you said there could be a disease," I insisted, the fear still driving me.
"I can only tell by looking at it. How can I tell you just like that?" she reasoned, using her authority as a teacher.
"But how can I show you? I'm feeling shy," I whispered.
"If you're going to be shy, your disease can get worse," she warned, the final, decisive manipulation.
"No, no, I'll show you," I said, panicking at the thought of a disease. I stood up, fumbling with my clothing, and took off my pants and underwear. The long discussion and nervous anticipation had left my penis hard, standing erect. It was, as I thought, saluting Madam.
When Madam saw it, her professional mask shattered. Her mouth fell open. She just stood there, staring at my penis like a statue, completely frozen. It seemed like she had been bitten by a snake. I was terrified by her reaction. Do I have a disease? I thought, my fear increasing with every silent second. Madam was neither speaking nor doing anything. She was just staring. The entire room seemed to have disappeared; there was only Madam and my exposed self. My fear was overpowering me, trapped under her intense, unwavering gaze.
---
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