# Penis Inspection Day

Title: Penis Inspection Day
Status: Complete
Characters: Anon, Fang, Fernsworth
Rating: NSFW
Classification: Complete
Author: SurpriseVisitor
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Fourth period, the second best part of the day. Mainly because Fang is there, and I like talking to her, and she seems to like talking to me, especially after that successful concert at Moe’s. Or they. Whatever. It’s kinda dumb, but if that’s all I need to do to keep her… their… attention, then I’m all for it.
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“Heya, dweeb,” Fang calls as she settles into the chair next to me. We launch into a conversation about our days up to now and what we’re going to be doing later until Professor Fernsworth enters the classroom with a stack of papers in his hand. Shit, is there a test today? Fuck me. Fang raises an eyebrow at me. Did I say that out loud?
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The fossil of a teacher makes no announcement, simply passing out papers to students across the room. Eventually he makes his way to us, placing a paper in front of Fang, but not me. I know he saw me, and I’ve never seen this kind of mistake before. I watch him as he continues, noticing that each female student gets a paper, but the male ones don’t. Are we getting a second set, or is this some weird biology lecture?
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I glance over at Fang’s paper. I’m not too good at reading upside-down, but I notice a few lines and an array of small boxes, each accompanied by a larger box. Name, date, length, mass, some other words. Guess it is just a normal science experiment.
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“Now, now, settle down, everyone!” The professor exclaims from the front of the room, the remaining chatter dying out. “Fill out your papers, determine your partner’s scores and write anything you think requires noting. In ten minutes I’ll come to collect them, so please be done by then, as we will continue with a normal lecture afterwards.”
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Fang grabs a binder to bear down on, then stands up, looking at me expectantly.
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“Well?” she asks.
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“Well, what?” I respond.
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“Take your pants off, dweeb.” I somehow manage to choke on the gulp of air I was breathing, hacking and sputtering something that doesn’t even qualify as communication, much less an actual response.
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“W-what?!” The word quietly falls out of me in between ragged breaths.
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“It’s penis inspection day, retard. Hurry up, I’m not having marks taken off because you can’t figure out your own belt.” I’m completely taken aback, panic filling my mind. This is a prank, right? Penis inspection day is just some dumb joke thrown around on Belgian wafflemaking forums, not an actual, real thing, right? I flick my eyes across the room, and lo-and-behold, every male student is either pantless or depantsing, and every female student is crouched over, closely inspecting penises.
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Fang stomps her foot, dragging my attention back to her, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed.
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“Alright, alright!” I stand up and reach down towards the button holding my jeans up. Fang crouches down, leveling her eyes with my crotch, waiting impatiently.
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“If I have to do it, your pants aren’t surviving,” she comments, flexing her razor-sharp claws to accentuate her threat. I undo the button and slowly unzip, taking a second look around the classroom. Yeah, there’s certainly penis inspection going on. Holy fuck, why did it have to be here and now?
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“This isn’t a striptease, you jackass.” I look down and Fang is giving me a look that reminds me of the first time I saw her, on the steps outside the school. Contempt. Judging. It kind of pisses me off, and I vindictively yank my pants down. She picks up her pencil, then sighs in frustration at the sight of my underwear. “For fuck’s sake, that too.” I shut my eyes, hook my thumbs into the elastic waistband, and push down the last barrier between Fang and my privates.
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“Finally,” she mutters, craning her head around to get multiple angles. Well, fuck. I guess this is happening. Wait, what happens if I get a boner? Oh, fuck, what if I’m not supposed to get one? I consider looking around, but too much of me refuses to scrutinize a bunch of dino dicks to see if they’re hard or not.
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Disaster strikes. Fang pokes my cock with a finger. I freeze completely, unable to truly process what the fuck is going on. She gently cups my balls in her palm, pushing them around a bit, then writes something down on the paper. Oh no boner, please. Not now. I will my heart to stop beating, death being a preferable alternative to whatever the future holds for me. It refuses, and the blood flows. A familiar sensation of erection starting, amplified by the unfamiliar feeling of it happening right in front of the girl I like. I try to focus on something nasty, anything I’ve seen in my years on Afghan goat herding forums, but the only thing I can think about is Fang playing with my cock and balls.
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Willpower failing, blood flows freely, and within seconds I hit full-mast. Fang’s eyes widen at this sudden change, craning her head around a second time for new perspectives, then writes something down. Okay, it’s over, right? Certainly it’s been ten minutes.
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She places a finger on my member, pulling it to the left, then letting go. Her eyes follow it as it swings back and forth like a metronome. She does it again, this time pulling it down and watching it as it bops up and down. Writing something down in one of the smaller boxes, she then rubs a knuckle along the main artery, watching as it twitches in response. All my thoughts are drowned out by the screaming alarms, warning of supercritical spaghetti chain reactions and subsequent spaghetti meltdown. Surely, it’s over now?
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She wraps her hand around my entire rod, giving it a tentative squeeze.
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“Haah…” Oh, sweet Raptor Jesus, I did not just moan out loud.
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“Uh, you aren’t enjoying this, right?” Fang asks.
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“Nope, not at all, just… normal stuff.” How am I supposed to not be enjoying this?
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“Right.” She returns to toying with my desirables and scribbling a couple of sentences down in the longer boxes. If there’s a taste test, I’m bashing my skull against the desk.
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A few more pokes, prods and scribbles later, she stands back up and settles into her seat. Is… is it over?
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“You can put that thing away now,” she grumbles. Fuck, shit, right, okay. I yank my underwear and pants back up and return to my seat, making sure everything is zipped and buttoned. I lean over to get a look at the paper, but Fang swipes it away. “No peeking.”
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“Why not?” I should at least be aware of my own dick’s rating.
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“I dunno, school policy for some reason.” I raise my arms in protest, but no words come out. Sighing, I cross my arms and cast another glance around the room. Looks like everyone else is either done or finishing up. Why the fuck didn’t anybody warn me about this? I would’ve stayed home or some shit. Fernsworth makes the rounds again, picking up each paper and making a comment to the pair of students. He eventually makes his way to us and looks over Fang’s paper.
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“Hmm. Excellent. Very impressive, Anon.” He walks off without another word, collecting the rest of the classroom’s work, and then almost immediately leaping into a lecture. Fang opens her binder and prepares to write notes like nothing happened, as do the rest of the students.
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What the fuck...