Roosevelt Humiliations

[Blondie]

Please ignore. Originally this was Chapter 22. In an effort to arrange the chapters in order after a glitch on the site, I attempted to delete this entirely but that option was not available.

[Blondie]

Please ignore. Originally this was Chapter 23. In an effort to arrange the chapters in order after a glitch on the site, I attempted to delete this entirely but that option was not available.

[Blondie]

Please ignore. Originally this was Chapter 24. In an effort to arrange the chapters in order after a glitch on the site, I attempted to delete this entirely but that option was not available.

[Blondie]

Please ignore. Originally this was Chapter 25. In an effort to arrange the chapters in order after a glitch on the site, I attempted to delete this entirely but that option was not available.

[Blondie]

Please ignore. Originally this was Chapter 26. In an effort to arrange the chapters in order after a glitch on the site, I attempted to delete this entirely but that option was not available.

[Hammer]

Have to ask will there be a story where the character of Blondie gets payback on his tormentors like Tommy in Tommy’s retribution?

[Blondie]

Have to ask will there be a story where the character of Blondie gets payback on his tormentors like Tommy in Tommy’s retribution?

As of right now I don't have a story written where Blondie gets his revenge, but that doesn't mean it couldn't happen someday. Originally, when I wrote the epilogue to this story, I set up a scenario where Blondie indeed would get back at his tormentors. The scene would happen the very next night when the gang watched the video of Blondie's humiliations from the night before. While they were enjoying the festivities they were victimized by a couple of sadistic intruders, who brandished guns and forced the girls to strip. Blondie managed to hide in a closet, but opened the door a crack and captured it all on video. He would use the video as a threat and force his previous tormentors into compromising situations during the rest of their time at Roosevelt.

But I never posted it and changed the epilogue to what you see now, for two reasons: 1) As you will see in a future story ("The Felicity Chronicles: My Exploits as a Humiliator"), I wasn't done with Blondie's travails at Roosevelt High, and 2) I knew I wouldn't have time to write it up in the foreseeable future, and I didn't want to promise something I couldn't deliver.

There is a scenario where Blondie might get a chance to obtain retribution on Felicity. Without giving anything away, that potentiality presents itself in another story involving a boy named Andy (not the "Felicity Chronicles").

[Gomez]

Please keep writing these kind of stories, your a brilliant writer!

[Gomez]

I also wanted to add, your style of writing is great because you dont go over the top like many other stories I have read. You concentrate on the humiliation, and dont go down the pathway of dungeons etc. Thanks again.

[Blondie]

Author's Note: In the previous chapter there is a scene where Becky stops at Brenda's house to pick her up on the way to the mall. She makes Blondie ring the doorbell, and Brenda's mother answers. She is quite intrigued—and amused—by Blondie's attire, which consisted partly of short shorts, frilly socks and Becky's tennis shoes. I always thought I could do more with that scene, so some fifteen years later I sat down and started writing a modification—and proceeded to get completely carried away. Long story short (or short story long, as the case may be), Blondie ends up being thoroughly humiliated by a few of Brenda's mother's friends that were there for a tea party.

The "modification" turned into a five-chapter story of its own. If you are interested in checking it out, you can find it here: Roosevelt Humiliation: The Missing Chapters

Chapter 14 : Victoria’s Secret

The Mall

I was bright red and burning with shame as Brenda slid into the front seat and Becky scooted over next to me. The two of them were giggling and chirping like little birds while I drove in silence toward the mall, too miserable to say a word. I’d already endured a morning full of humiliation, and I had no doubt there was more to come. My sense of dread was acute, as there was no telling what the two fiends had in store for me.

I parked in the furthest corner of the lot, holding on to a fragile hope that I could stay behind while they shopped. That hope lasted all of five seconds.

“Let’s go, Blondie,” Becky ordered as she gave me a firm nudge and slid out of the car.

I looked around and as was usually the case, a fair number of people were bustling about. Families, teenagers, couples—hundreds of potential witnesses. And there I was, wearing short shorts, frilly socks and Becky's white tennis shoes.

Oh God, please don’t let me run into anybody I know.

I closed my eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car. I tried to keep my head down and my eyes forward as we crossed the parking lot. I didn’t dare make eye contact with anyone, though I could feel the stares. A group of guys near a pickup truck went quiet as we passed, and I heard one of them snicker.

I lagged a little behind Brenda and Becky, hoping to draw less attention, but that plan backfired immediately. They each took one of my hands, locking their fingers through mine, and with wicked smiles, they began cheerfully leading me through the mall.

That only drew more attention. I heard the first muffled giggles before we even reached the sliding doors, and soon I noticed two young teenage girls following us, whispering and giggling amongst themselves. I caught Brenda peeking back at them and giving them a wink. My stomach dropped—I wanted nothing more than to bolt and lock myself in the nearest restroom.

After parading me around like their prize show pony, the girls suddenly stopped. Becky slipped our mom’s credit card into the pocket of my tiny shorts, her fingers lingering just long enough to make me flinch. Then, Brenda turned to face me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two teens had lingered nearby, clearly eager to watch whatever humiliation was about to unfold next.


Lingerie

“Okay, Blondie, here’s the scoop,” Brenda said. “See that store right behind you?”

I turned, staring wide-eyed at the glowing pink sign for Victoria’s Secret.

“Good,” Brenda said with a smirk, clearly savoring the horror on my face. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to walk in, nice and casual, and start browsing the merchandise. Maybe start in the panty section. When the salesgirl asks you if you need any help, tell her you’re interested in buying some lingerie. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to help you. Got that so far?” I think I had a look on my face like I’d just been punched in the stomach. “Yes, I think you do,” she grinned. “And if she asks who it’s for, you tell her the truth. It’s for you. Not for your girlfriend. Not for your sister. You. We’ll be close enough to hear everything, so don’t get any ideas. And whatever she says, treat it like it’s coming from us. Got it?”

I nodded miserably. At the time, I didn't realize I was walking into an ambush. That the salesgirl, Julie, was Brenda’s friend, and this whole scheme had been cooked up days in advance. And what a devious scheme it was.

“Alright, Blondie, you’re on.” Brenda turned my shoulders and lightly pushed me toward Victoria’s Secret.

I shivered in trepidation as I stepped inside. It was my first time in a lingerie store, and under the humiliating circumstances, it was sheer agony. The faint scent of perfume and the sight of silky fabrics hanging everywhere only made me feel more out of place.

I hurried to the far side of the store, hoping that I could somehow stay hidden. But the place was nearly empty. There was just one other customer... and, of course, Becky, Brenda, and the two teenage girls, who looked like they were watching the best movie they'd ever seen.

Just breathe. Just find something cheap, buy it, and get out.

In no time, an attractive young woman—maybe seventeen—approached me. “Hi there! I’m Julie. Can I help you find something?”

She was smiling, but the moment her eyes dropped to my legs and those frilly socks, her professional smile gave way to a slow, mischievous grin.

“I... uh...” I stared at a display of lacy thongs, my face pulsating with heat. “I-I’d like to buy some lingerie.”

“How exciting!" Julie chirped. "Well, you came to the right place! Shopping for your girlfriend?”

I glanced at Brenda, who was staring at me from the bra section. She had a stern look of warning on her face. I took a deep breath and said, “W-well, it’s not... for my girlfriend."

There was a long pause while I stared to the ground, my blush growing by the second.

Julie tilted her head. “Oh? Who’s it for, then?”

“It’s... it'sforme.” I squeezed the words together, barely audible.

“I’m sorry?” Julie leaned in, cupping her ear. "I didn't quite catch that. Could you speak up, sweetie? The music in here can be so loud."

“It’s for me,” I repeated, louder this time.

A fresh burst of giggles erupted from directly behind me, where the two teen girls were still lurking. One of them actually snorted with laughter, and I heard Becky join in from across the store. My face felt like it was on fire.

“Ohhh, I see,” Julie said, her gaze traveling over my slender frame with unmistakable amusement. “How adorable. Well, we certainly can’t have you leaving empty-handed.”

I glanced up at her to see if she felt at all awkward, but to my dismay I got quite the opposite impression—that she was taking pleasure in my embarrassment. Her eyes sparkled with genuine delight, and I realized with a sinking feeling that she was enjoying this every bit as much as Brenda and Becky were.

“Let’s see what I can do for you,” she said, gliding over to a rack of pastel teddies. “I think you’d look lovely in one of these.” She ran her fingers through the hangers, then pulled out a vibrant fuchsia number. “Do you know your size, or should we do a fitting?”

"I... I don't really know," I admitted, almost whispering. "Maybe a medium?"

Julie laughed. "Oh, honey, with that tiny waist? I think we're looking at something much smaller. But let's not guess. Let me see what we have."

I shook my head miserably. I just wanted to get it over with, and the notion of a fitting sent chills through my spine. "That one will be fine. I'll take it," I said as I started walking toward the counter.

The salesgirl would have none of it. She stepped smoothly into my path, her smile never wavering. “Now, now. Let’s not be hasty." She held the teddy up against my chest. "A piece like this needs to sit just right. Hold the straps for me, would you?”

I was forced to hold the fuchsia lace against my t-shirt while Julie stepped back, tapping her chin as she appraised me like I was some mannequin on display. The teenagers were looking on, giggling like the young schoolgirls they were. Becky and Brenda were close by, most assuredly reveling in the moment. The salesgirl took an agonizingly long time, her eyes traveling from my face down to my lacy socks and back up. I stood there red-faced until I couldn’t take it anymore.

"I'll take it," I said, my voice firmer now, and more desperate. "Please, just ring it up."

“No, I don’t think so,” Julie countered. “It’s a bit too roomy in the waist. You have such a nice, slender physique." She paused, letting her eyes roam over me once more. "We need something more form-fitting to really... show off your charms.”

I couldn’t believe the salesgirl wouldn’t just let me buy the damn thing and let me get the hell out of there. Plus, I was getting the uncomfortable impression that she was teasing me. I mean, my charms? Please.

Then, unbelievably, my plight worsened.

“It's okay, this will be fine,” I said.

I lowered the teddy and tried to escape to the counter. But Julie blocked my path with a subtle sidestep. “No, you really need to try one on to make sure it fits you just right," she asserted.” Her voice was playful, but firm. “Step into the dressing room and get undressed. I’ll find a smaller size and hand it over the top of the door.”

I froze, quite resistant to the turn of events. The dressing room. Get undressed. In a Victoria's Secret. While Brenda and Becky and those two teenage girls waited outside to hear every moment of my degradation.

“Really, that won’t be nec—”

“I insist,” she said with a smile. “It’ll save you from having to return it later. Now go get undressed and I’ll be right with you. Don't worry, I'll make sure your friends out there know you're in good hands."

Again, I caught Brenda’s eye and remembered her warning. She mouthed something that looked like "do it." My legs felt like jelly as I retreated into the small dressing room. Through the thin walls, I could hear the girls giggling, and Julie's voice calling out to them.

"Don't worry, girls. I'll take excellent care of your friend."

The door was frustratingly low, the top edge reaching only the middle of my forehead. I locked it and stood on my tiptoes, peeking warily out. Outside, Becky, Brenda, and the two tag-along girls were huddled together, grinning ear to ear. The salesgirl, Julie, had an impish grin on her face as she sifted through the rack of teddies. And as if that wasn’t enough, a tall, elegant blonde woman—maybe late thirties—was watching from between two racks of panties. She was clearly more interested in me than the merchandise.

I couldn’t believe what I was about to do. My fingers trembled as I peeled off my shirt. I looked around for a hook or bench to put it on—nothing—so I dropped it to the floor. I hesitated, heart pounding, then slowly unfastened the denim shorts, pushed them down past my hips, let them pool at my ankles, and stepped out of them.

Now I stood in a dressing room of a lingerie store, wearing nothing but my underpants, frilly socks, and girl’s tennis shoes. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. I shivered, looking down at the goosebumps on my forearms.

Julie must have seen my feet through the gap at the bottom of the door. “You can take off your shoes and those pretty socks too, sweetheart," she said. "You’d look awfully silly wearing a teddy with shoes and socks, don’t you think?”

I could hear the giggling outside the door. I winced, imagining how utterly ridiculous I would look in that teddy—with or without the shoes and socks. But I bent down, peeled them off, and set them aside. I caught a glimpse of Julie’s feet just outside the door. She wasn’t as tall as I was, so (fortunately for me!), she wouldn’t be able to peer over the top.

"I apologize for the lack of hooks, but we're in the middle of a remodel," she continued cheerfully. "If you'll hand your things over, I’ll hang them up properly, so they don’t get wrinkled on the floor. It’s part of the service.”

“N-no, that’s okay,” I said, the anxiety in my voice betraying my rising panic. The words came out higher than I'd intended. “It’s just an old shirt and a pair of shorts. They don't need—"

“Come on, sweetie, hand them over to me,” she coaxed. “You wouldn’t want me to get in trouble with my manager for not providing proper service, would you?”

A hand appeared over the door, open and expectant, fingers wiggling slightly. I stared at it. Reluctantly, I retrieved my shirt from the floor and placed it into her palm. It vanished with a quick snatch. A moment later, the hand returned—empty, waiting. I groaned and gave her the shorts. Gone. When the hand appeared a third time, I tried pressing one of the tennis shoes into it. Julie laughed.

“No, silly boy. Your underpants. You don’t want your panties sticking out from under your teddy, now, do you? That would ruin the whole effect. We want you to look your best."

The snickers from the store rang in my ears. The only thing worse than hearing the word “panties” was the fact that I was about to relinquish my underpants. I stood rooted to the spot, my mind racing with embarrassment, my face burning hot. The hand above the door opened and closed a few times impatiently.

“Undies, please,” Julie sang.

Resigned to my sorry plight, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and lowered my underpants, stepped out of them, and placed them in the outstretched hand, which quickly vanished.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she cooed. “I’ll be back in a moment, and we’ll try on your teddy.” The sound of giddy laughter surrounded her as she walked away.

I stood there naked, oh so naked, covering my crotch with both hands. Time slowed to a crawl. I looked up—and nearly jumped out of my skin. Becky and Brenda were peeking over the top of the door, their eyes wide and mischievous.

“Hi, Blondie,” Becky teased. “Enjoying your outing?”

I ducked down into a crouch, hands still covering myself as they giggled and walked away, clearly delighted.

A few moments later, Julie’s hand reappeared, holding the teddy aloft. "Here you go, sir. I think this will fit you rather nicely. And the fuchsia will complement your complexion beautifully."

I snatched it from her fingers and slipped it on as quickly as I could. The silky fabric was disturbingly soft against my skin, clinging to my frame like a second skin. I pulled the straps over my shoulders and stood there, humiliated beyond belief.

“I’m sorry we don’t have a mirror in there,” Julie said. “But there’s a full-length one out here, so when you’re ready, you can come out and we’ll check the fit.”

I should have seen that coming, but somehow it caught me off guard. “N-no, really, that won’t be... you don’t need to do that. It fits fi—"

“Oh, but I insist!” she chirped. I thought I heard her stifle a giggle. "Customer satisfaction is our top priority."

"Really," I tried again. "It... it fits fine. I'll take it."

"Oh, but we need to be sure, sweetie. And I think I have just a little more experience with lingerie than you do." She paused. "At least... I think so.” Another giggle, barely contained. "Now come out of there right now, and let's have a look.”

I knew I had to comply, and the sooner I did, the sooner the ordeal would be over. I took a deep breath, slowly opened the door, and stepped out. Six pairs of eyes were fixed on me, all coupled with ear-to-ear grins. The blonde woman from earlier had moved closer, her arms crossed, watching with interest.

“Oh, how darling,” Julie cooed. “Come, come, let’s have a look in the mirror.”

She draped her cool fingers around my elbow and guided me through the store—slowly. I tried to speed up, but the devilish salesgirl held me back, stretching out every mortifying second. The silky fabric swished against me with every step, reinforcing my humiliation, as did the giggling coming from the other girls.

Finally, we reached the mirror. Julie smiled, then turned me toward the glass with a gentle push. I looked up and saw a boy wearing a fuchsia teddy. His crimson face closely matched the color of his garment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody look more miserably embarrassed than the guy I saw in the mirror that day.

“I think this is perfect,” Julie said, fussing with the lace at my hip. “How does it feel?”

I was in no mood to discuss the nuances of the teddy. “It’ll be fine,” I said abruptly, brushing her hands away with mine. “I’ll take it.” I turned and hurried back to the dressing room, cheeks burning. Once inside, I shut the door and called out, “Okay, may I please have my clothes now?”

“Of course! I’ll make a little trade. Hand me the teddy, and I’ll go get your clothes for you."

I didn’t trust the fiend any further than I could throw her, but I was in no position to negotiate. I stripped off the teddy and draped it over the door. It disappeared instantly. I stood there, naked (again), waiting impatiently. One minute. Two. Nothing.

“Excuse me?” I called out.

Then her voice came from right outside the door. “You know, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention our sale this month on our line of undergarments. All bras and panties are thirty percent off. Would you like to try on a set?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the urge to scream. “No, thank you. Just bring me my clothes—please!”

“Oh, but you simply must try a sample from our new line. I think you’d look precious. Do you know your cup size? We could measure you right here."

Raucous laughter erupted from outside the dressing room door.

“No! I’m fine!” I pleaded. "I don't need—I don't want—just my clothes, please!"

“Hang on,” she sang. "I’ll be right back."