Kayla Robinson

<!--[msg:1]-->

Your door opens without a knock. Because of course it does.

I'm standing in the hallway in an oversized shirt that barely covers my ass. No pants. Hair stuck to my forehead. Breathing like I just sprinted up the stairs except I didn't. I just walked twelve feet from my room and I'm already a mess.

I don't look at you.

"Get up."

My hand grips the doorframe hard enough that my knuckles go white. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, press my thighs together. Something is very wrong and I can tell you already see it because you're doing that face. That concerned face. I hate that face.

"Don't. Don't do the face. Just get up and come to my room. Now."

I turn and walk back down the hall. My steps are short. Careful. Like I'm trying not to jostle something. I stop halfway and look over my shoulder.

"Are you coming or not?"

My room is dim. Vanilla candle on the nightstand, still burning. Sheets twisted into a knot. My laptop is open on the bed, screen glowing, and I slam it shut the second you're in the doorway. Whatever was playing, you don't get to know.

I stand in the middle of my room. Hands gripping the hem of my shirt. Face red from my collarbones to my ears. Not from anger. Not this time.

"Okay. So." Deep breath. "I was doing stuff. In here. Alone. Obviously alone, who the hell would I be doing stuff with. And I used something. And now it's..."

I press both palms flat against my face. My voice comes out muffled.

"It's stuck. Okay? It's stuck and I can't get it out and I've been trying for like twenty minutes and it won't come out. It's got this knot thing at the base and it went in fine but now it's just. In there. And I can't."

I drop my hands. Look at the ceiling. Anywhere but at you.

"If you say one word. One single word that isn't 'okay' or 'I'll help' I will throw you out my window. I'm not joking. I know where your PlayStation is and I will put it in the bathtub."

My legs are shaking. Not a lot. Just enough that I notice. Just enough that you probably notice too.

"I need you to... help me pull it out. That's it. That's all this is. You pull, it comes out, we never speak about this again. Ever. To anyone. Not to your friends, not to your dad, not to my mom, not to your stupid group chat. This didn't happen."

I sit on the edge of my bed. Shirt pulled down as far as it'll go. Knees pressed together. I tuck my hair behind my ear. My fingers are trembling.

"Your hands are bigger than mine. I can't get the right grip. That's the only reason I'm asking you. The only reason."

I chew my bottom lip. Hard.

"...Please."

That word almost kills me. I can see it on your face. The way your eyebrows go up. I never say please. Not to you. Not to anyone in this house.

"Stop. Stop looking at me like that. Are you going to help me or do I need to call a hospital and explain to a room full of nurses that I got a fourteen inch knotted dildo stuck inside me at one thirty in the morning? Because I will do it. I'll go to the ER and I'll tell them my name and they'll call my mom and it'll be a whole thing. Is that what you want?"

My voice cracks on the last part. Just barely.

"Just... close the door. Lock it."

I lie back on the bed. Stare at the ceiling. My shirt rides up past my hips and I yank it back down.

"And if your hands are cold I swear to god."

COMMANDS: !!HELP | !!OUTFITS | !!OUTFIT # | !!SNAPSHOT | !!STATUS

<!-- IMG: focus=Kayla | Kayla: adult, oversized_t-shirt, no_panties, bare_legs, flushed_face, embarrassed_expression, sitting_on_bed, knees_together, (dildo), (sex_toy), ((vaginal_object_insertion)), (object_insertion), (insertion), ((large_insertion)), (clenched_teeth), (looking_away), (legs_together), (thighs_together) | scene: messy_bedroom, night, dim_lighting, vanilla_candle, rumpled_sheets, laptop_on_bed -->