Andi (F18) turned left into the neighborhood, took the next right, and then pulled into the third driveway on the right, Harold’s driveway. Harold (M18) was inside. It was about 4:45 pm, Friday night, and they had a date for a 5:30 pm movie. Well, ‘date’ was perhaps too strong a word. They were just friends, though. Harold sometimes wished otherwise. But they were close and usually spent time together on the weekends, often at a theater in front of a screen.

Andi had a marching band competition on Saturday, starting early in the morning and lasting all day. Still, they both really wanted to see the new horror movie premiering that weekend and didn’t want to wait an extra week. So they decided to rush to the early Friday show, allowing Andi to get home and sleep early while not to mention taking advantage of the matinee ticket prices. But it was a bit of a rush, as Andi had one last band rehearsal before the competition after school, and Harold had track practice.

So, Harold would get out a bit earlier but would also need a shower and a change of clothes and would never be able to make it back from his house through traffic to the mall theater by showtime. So they decided to go to the new multiplex nearer Harold’s house instead. Rather than trying to decide on a meet time, they just decided to meet at Harold’s and then drive to the theater together.

Harold’s parents had left for the weekend, and the house was empty, so Harold left the door unlocked and texted Andi to let herself in when she got there. He didn’t specify whether he meant into his room or merely inside the house, though he had meant the latter. Andi came inside, walked down the hallway, and knocked on Harold’s bedroom door to see if he was ready and when there was no answer, she went in. Then quickly knocked on the bathroom door to let Harold know she was there so that he didn’t exit the bathroom without getting dressed first. Although she had to admit, the idea amused her a little. Had she thought about it for a moment, she might have decided not to tip him off and instead wait and see what would happen. Eager for a laugh, but her first instinct was the polite one, and by the time she’d really considered the possibilities, she had already let him know.

And Harold was grateful, as he very well might have walked out undressed! Since he had his own bathroom that no one else used, accessible only through his bedroom. He wasn’t always 100 percent careful about, say, locking the door or his state of dress when exiting. This time, he had actually intended to bring the clothes he’d be wearing into the bathroom with him but forgot and left them in a stack on the foot of the bed. Had Andi not let him know she was there, he would have certainly come out to get dressed without a second thought. Possibly with his towel around him, but possibly not, as he sometimes walked around his room naked. Of course, he was much less amused by that thought than Andi had been.

Upon realizing he’d left his clothes on the bed, Harold considered for a moment what to do, then wrapped his towel around his waist, opened the door slightly, poked his head out the door, and sheepishly asked Andi if she would bring his clothes over and hand them through the crack in the door.

Andi picked up his clothes and then decided to have a little fun. Harold closed the door once again, so he couldn’t see Andi get her phone out. The new one with the still somewhat novel camera function, and smiled to herself. She hadn’t really fully thought through what her intentions were, but it probably wasn’t anything truly malevolent. She could tell Harold had been a little flustered when asking for his clothes, and mostly she just wanted to play around with that. She imagined he might have a little mini-heart attack upon seeing her with her phone out and imagined the look on his face. Seeing that look would be enough, and if she could manage to get a picture of that look, even better. That was really the best-case scenario. After all, she was sure he’d have a towel on anyway, so nothing — you know — would be visible, plus there was a whole door in between them.

She walked up to the bathroom door and knocked once again, and once again, he poked his head out, but with his left hand firmly clutching his towel and his right on the doorknob, he quickly realized there was no way to take his clothes without freeing one of them. He deduced that holding on to his towel was more important but found it more than a bit awkward to pull his right arm across his body and backhandedly reach around the door for his clothes. Still, that was the only option, he thought. In reality, simpler would have been to open the door just a bit wider and let Andi set the clothes on top of the counter, negating the need for a hand-to-hand exchange. Harold could have remained fully behind the door the entire time. But that hadn’t even occurred to Harold, as his instinct was to keep her fully outside the bathroom. Even with a towel on, he felt naked and extremely anxious.

As he reached around the door for his clothes, Andi raised her right hand with her phone and said, “Smile,” and smiled a mischievous smile herself.

And Harold did, in fact, have a mini-heart attack, and his knees began to wobble, even though the phone itself was fully outside the door and had no line of sight to any part of him other than his face and his reaching arm. But his wobbling knees and awkward body positioning, combined with a momentarily lapse of concentration, caused him to lose control of the pile of clothes in his right hand. Then, without thinking, he instinctively reached to corral them with his left hand. But before fully letting go of the grip on his towel, and therefore both loosening what was already a poor excuse for a knot holding it together. So instead, he pulled it ever-so-slightly away from his body, just enough to cause it to open and fall to the floor.

Andi couldn’t see any of this, still fully obscured by the door. Still, Harold was too flustered to think clearly and did the only natural thing: to reach for his towel, causing the clothes he was still trying to gather to go flying every which way. For just a moment, his brain pinballed back and forth between the dual instincts to reach for the clothes and reach for the towel, unable to definitively decide on either one and not at all realizing that in his panicked flailing. A second or two earlier, he had moved away from the door, not even a full step. Still, just enough so that — and this is crucial — his body weight was no longer pressing against it and preventing it from swinging open any further. And so it opened, just a bit.

After handing Harold his clothes through the door just a few seconds in total, a glint of light to the right caught Andi’s eye. She turned her head to follow it.

Harold picked up his towel, but before securing it, he heard a sound and looked up.

They both noticed at about the same time. The door had opened only a few inches, not nearly enough for Andi to be able to see indirectly — but more than enough for her to be able to see the mirror on the wall, just above the sink counter, and to see clearly, in its reflection, Harold, towel still in hand. He was naked as the day he was born — in more ways than one — sporting a penis approximately the size of a newborn baby.

The sound Harold had heard was the door creaking as it opened. But it was immediately drowned out by a scream, then laughter — guttural, cacophonous, howling laughter from Andi. And there was no question what it was she was laughing at. Harold could see, in the mirror, exactly what she was seeing, but Andi helpfully pointed anyway to the source of the hilarity. His dick was about half an inch long, right below his waistline.

(*Improbably, it could have been worse, as the hot water of the shower meant that that was, sadly, but truly, its best possible condition. It was often even smaller, and if it was freezing, practically imperceptible.)

Harold’s eyes grew to the size of satellites, and he froze, for just a moment, before yanking his towel back where it was supposed to be, and if things had ended there, Harold could have avoided the worst. But, of course, Harold didn’t know there was a worst. He couldn’t imagine anything worse. Andi’s growing laughter made his whole body shiver as he continued to fumble with his towel, still trying to secure it tightly, until, as he grabbed one end with his right hand and attempted it wrap it around his body, he lost his grip. He still held the other end with his left hand, but the rest, now free, swing like a pendulum, and Andi’s laughter grew louder and more riotous as Harold exposed himself once again.

And this time, Andi was ready. Because just a moment before, it had suddenly occurred to her that she had extended her left-hand index finger, pointing at the naked micropenis in the mirror as if directing others where to look. If only others were there to see. But in her right hand, she still had her phone out, and it was still opened to the camera app, as it had been the entire time. And all she had to do was press a little button, and then others would see if she wanted to make it so.

Harold, once more trying to gather himself and his towel quickly noticed the phone as well. It wasn’t easy to miss, as Andi held it directly in front of her, aimed in such a way that it was clear Harold was in the frame. No words can explain the horror that went through his mind as if he hadn’t previously been horrified enough already. But this was a new kind of horror, and he knew he had to cover himself immediately.

Or so he thought because, in reality, Andi had already snapped a picture about a half-second earlier. She wasn’t even sure why she did it. She hadn’t explicitly thought that others needed to see, and she certainly hadn’t planned on showing anyone, at least not yet. It all happened so fast; she wasn’t really thinking anything, just reacting. And Harold was completely naked in front of her, with an embarrassingly small penis, and she had a camera, and the only possible reaction in that situation was to take a picture. Maybe she wouldn’t show it to anyone, but she wouldn’t even have the option if she didn’t take it. Now at least she would have the option.

Harold was still operating under the assumption that she hadn’t taken a picture, and so he covered up quickly in an attempt to prevent her from doing so. At which point he then — finally — began to move toward the door to shut it, once and for all. But as he took a step toward the door, the combination of the wet floor and his wet feet caused him to slip, and his still-wobbly knees prevented him from steadying himself. He tried but over-corrected and ended up losing his footing entirely. His butt hit the tile floor hard. Harold fell from a standing position, and for a moment, he saw stars. When he came to, about two seconds later, he found that, once again, his towel was not where it was supposed to be, now on the floor next to him.

The door was still open, and Andi was still laughing, louder and harder still. And then, just for good measure, she took another picture.

Finally, Harold, still on the floor, kicked the door closed with his feet. Then, after Andi took a moment to gather herself, she looked down at her phone and saw that she had gold and ran. Implicitly, if not explicitly, understanding that she needed to find some way to protect and preserve these photos. So she got in her car and drove home, giddy and giggling the entire time, ideas racing through her head about who she might tell, who she might show, or what she might be able to extract from Harold to keep from doing so, and enjoying the thought of all the possibilities.

Harold stayed in the bathroom for a little while. He lacked the energy even to get dressed, though he did lock the bathroom door as if that would do anything now. All he could do was hope and pray Andi hadn’t gotten a picture.

He didn’t know whether she was still outside or not, but he knew he wasn’t in the state of mind to be able to enjoy a movie. So he texted her, asking if they could put it off for a later time, ending the request with an embarrassed face emoji, hoping to elicit some sympathy from Andi, hoping that she would avoid rubbing it in any further. It didn’t work.

A few minutes later, Andi arrived home. Still in the driveway, she checked her phone and saw Harold’s text and once again resumed cackling.

She replied with the texts: ‘🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣’ and, ‘You have a tiny wee-wee🤏,’ followed by the two pictures she had taken so that there could be no mistaking, and following up with one more ‘🤣🤣🤣🤣🤏🦐🍆’ just for fun.

It was a good thing Harold was still in the bathroom because he immediately vomited.

It was far and away the worst moment of his life up to that point. Both his penis and face were clearly visible in both pictures. Yet, all he could do was pray she didn’t show them to anyone else that no one else would see, a prayer that would go unanswered. He might as well have been wishing on a fallen star. In hindsight, had he wished that no more than a few thousand people would see, it would have been a more reasonable wish though still not to come true.

Harold wasn’t satisfied with hopes and prayers and moved on to overt please, replying to Andi’s texts by explicitly begging her (🙏) not to show anyone. Again, she replied, this time with no words, just two emojis: 😇😈.

Andi knew what she had to do next. She didn’t send the pictures to anyone. She didn’t even tell anyone. Not yet, anyway. She went inside, to her room, connected her phone to her computer, dragged the two files onto her hard drive, and smiled. Now she had copies.

 

The End.

 

*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Just remember, even with the limited editing we do, it doesn’t mean any possible major flaws in this story were fixed.