Chapter 22: Blondie and Johnny Boy: Humiliation on the Track, Part 1 of 4
It was a Sunday night, and I was lying on my bed daydreaming. As I've mentioned before, at some point when I do this, Blondie inevitably comes to mind. I pictured him at his locker on that day when I made him get naked for me for the first time at Roosevelt. It was such a lovely sight, and such a wonderful experience. Reliving that humiliation session in my mind made me yearn for another encounter with my favorite victim.
It was the previous Thursday that I had that fabulous humiliation session from afar—the group text with Blondie and his sister Becky that had ended with me decreeing his new wardrobe requirement: panties to school every day. Becky said she would be more than happy to lay out the panties on his bed for him the night before. I promised Blondie I would be checking.
I didn't get the opportunity to seek him out on that Friday, and I was not going to let another day go by without seeing him in his new apparel. I picked up my phone and sent him a text.
Me: Hi Blondie
I had told him some time ago that I expected him to answer me right away whenever I texted him, so his swift response came as no surprise. I'm sure he was happy to hear from me. (giggle)
Blondie: Hi
Me: I'm sorry I missed you on Friday.
Blondie (after somewhat of a pause): It's okay
Me: Did you wear panties to school?
Blondie: Yes
Me: What color were they?
I already knew the answer. Becky and I had texted each other on Friday night, and she told me they were blue. She laid the panties out on his bed on Thursday night as planned. She took a picture of Blondie wearing them on Friday morning and offered to send it to me. It took a lot of self-restraint, but I declined. I wanted to see him like that in the flesh first, to witness the blush and the shame with my own eyes. She did mention that he looked marvelous, and that he was blushing beautifully.
She also texted me on Saturday, telling me that she did some online shopping for Blondie and purchased seven new pairs of panties, one for each day of the week. That was Thursday night, and she received them on Saturday, so Blondie was good to go. Oh, and she made him pay her back. (giggle)
Blondie: Blue
Me: Ooh, nice! I wish I could have seen them.
Not surprisingly, there was no response. I pressed on.
Me: How did they feel against your skin?
Becky told me they were made of nylon satin, so I knew they had to feel differently than the cotton he was used to.
Blondie: Fine
Me: I'd appreciate a little more detail. How did they feel compared to your tighty-whities?
Blondie: They were smoother.
Me: Did you get a hard-on while you were walking around and feeling them rubbing against your little boy bits?
Blondie: No
Me: Oh, I'll bet you did. In fact, I think you're going to get to like wearing your panties every day.
Blondie: No I don't think so.
Me: I'd like to do a panty check tomorrow at school.
Blondie (after a long pause): May I just send you a picture of them instead?
Me: A picture of what?
I wanted him to use the word, which he'd avoided so far.
Blondie: The panties
Me: You mean YOUR panties?
Blondie: Yes
Me: Say it.
Blondie: My panties
Me: No, I want to see them in person. With you inside them. Though I do like your idea of taking a picture. I'll have to do that when we have our panty check.
No response. I could picture him squirming.
Me: So I'd like you to come see me tomorrow during lunch. I'll meet you at the south end of the track at 12:05.
Blondie: Ok
Me: Great! See you then!
I set my phone beside me and smiled with delight. A humiliation date with Blondie loomed on the horizon, and I couldn't think of anything I'd rather look forward to.
I was about to turn on the TV when inspiration struck. Grinning, I snatched up my phone again.
Me: Good evening, Johnny.
After about 30 seconds without a response, I tried again.
Me: You'd better answer me, Johnny Boy.
Johnny: Hi
I pictured him wincing in trepidation.
Me: What do you think about joining me for lunch tomorrow for a little fun?
Johnny: Thank you anyway, but unfortunately I won't be able to.
That made me laugh out loud.
Me: I was just being polite, Johnny Boy. It wasn't really a question.
Johnny (after a few seconds of processing his powerlessness): Okay
Me: Excellent! There is someone I'd like you to meet. I think the two of you have a lot in common and will really hit it off.
Johnny: Okay
Me: I'll see you at the south end of the track at 12:05. Don't be late.
Johnny: Okay
Me: Great, I'm really looking forward to it, Johnny Boy. Sweet Dreams.
I'm quite certain neither Johnny Boy nor Blondie enjoyed sweet dreams that night. As opposed to me, who fell asleep with a smile on my face as I looked forward to the next day with delicious anticipation.
* * * * * *
Early Monday morning, I fired off texts to Kayla, Andrea, and Natalie. I promised them a surprise and instructed them to meet me at the south end of the track between 12:00 and 12:05. They all responded right away, and each response ended with an exclamation point.
Speaking of surprises, I'd deliberately kept them in the dark about Blondie's new daily requirement. I looked forward to their reactions when I finally did the unveiling.
* * * * * *
The bell sounded at noon, signifying the end of my fourth period algebra class—and, more notably, the beginning of the much-anticipated lunch hour. I pranced outside with an extra bounce to my step. I felt that wonderful, tingly sensation that commonly occurred when I was on the brink of a humiliation session. That morning, though, there was an extra edge to it. I would be doing Blondie, my beloved favorite, and Johnny Boy—the first victim I’d acquired on my own. And I would be doing them together.
I found myself actually trotting as the track came into view. I was the first to arrive, but I spotted my cohorts in the distance, walking briskly toward me. In short order we were together, awaiting the arrival of my boys.
"Well, are you going to tell us what's up?" asked Kayla. "We're dying to know what this big surprise is."
"You'll see in due time," I answered, smiling coyly as I scanned for my victims.
"Hey, is that Blondie?" Natalie pointed toward the basketball courts. Indeed, my precious Blondie was in the distance, walking toward us with his head down, each step deliberate and reluctant. He checked his phone, probably verifying the time. It was 12:04. He picked up his step.
"It looks like he's coming this way," Andrea observed.
"And there's Johnny Boy!" Kayla called. Sure enough, Johnny Boy was probably about twenty paces behind Blondie, moving at the same pace.
The two had never formally met, though I'd mentioned to Johnny during one of our sessions that I'd like to introduce them someday. Blondie, as far as I knew, was unaware of Johnny Boy's existence, unless he'd witnessed one of Johnny's public humiliations by chance. Johnny almost certainly had to notice Blondie at some point on the school grounds. Everyone did. I mean, he's hard to miss, with those long, smooth-shaven legs. And they are on full display at school every day in shorts with barely a couple of inches of inseam. Plus, he must have at least heard about Blondie's recent public humiliation in the cafeteria. I heard kids talking about that in the hallways for days afterward.
In any case, they were about to become intimately acquainted. I waved my hand high in the air, catching the attention of the dispirited twosome.
"Are they both coming over here?" Natalie asked. I simply smiled, saying nothing.
"Oh, Felicity, you've outdone yourself!" Andrea said as Blondie approached.
"Hi, Blondie!" we greeted, almost in unison. He stood among us without responding, looking at us warily. Moments later, Johnny Boy joined the party. His look of apprehension matched that of his counterpart—a look that contrasted sharply with the eager anticipation etched on the faces of the four girls surrounding them.
“Johnny Boy,” I said, breaking the ice, “I’d like you to meet Blondie. Blondie, Johnny Boy.” The two exchanged a quick glance before averting their eyes, and I prompted, “That’s your cue to shake hands,” which they did perfunctorily, limp and without eye contact. “You may not realize it yet,” I continued, savoring the moment, “but you two have a lot in common. For instance—I’ve seen both of you naked,” prompting blushes from the two of them and all sorts of deliciously embarrassed body language, much to the amusement of my giggling friends.
The boys shot furtive, embarrassed glances at each other and made brief eye contact, which I found most delightful. “And you both have such smooth skin,” I added, letting my fingertips glide slowly up and down Blondie’s thigh, enjoying the way he shivered at my touch. “I really do like touching you. Don’t you think Blondie has the prettiest legs, Johnny Boy?”
"I... I guess so," Johnny managed after a glance at Blondie's legs.
"Feel them," I said. After hesitating, he reluctantly reached down and stroked the outside of Blondie's calf with the back of his hand. "What did you think?" I asked.
"They're... they're smooth."
"Aren't they, though?" I replied. "Like I said, that's another thing you two have in common. Yours might not be quite as smooth as Blondie's—you have a little bit of peach fuzz, while Blondie has nothing. But yours are still nice and smooth."
There was a moment of silence, thick with tension and possibility. I decided to escalate. "Hey, what say the two of you go for a little stroll around the track and get acquainted? We'll tag along and keep you company." I glanced down at their feet. "Why don't you go barefoot? It’s warm, and you’ll enjoy the feel of the track under your toes.”
Neither boy made a move, so I raised my voice. "Come on, snap to! Let's get those shoes off!" I clapped my hands, and the boys—already aware that getting me upset was the last thing they needed—were barefoot within seconds.
I have to say that even though all they’d exposed were their feet, I was already beginning to feel a little turned on. I think there were two reasons for that.
First, this was clearly the beginning of what was shaping up to be a humiliating stripping. Second was the intoxicating realization of just how much power I held over them. Think about it: They had both shown up because I told them to, despite clearly not wanting to be there. Even then, either of them could have tried to run before things escalated—if they believed they could outsmart Kayla or Natalie long enough to escape. And at that moment, there was probably nothing in the world they wanted more badly.
Yet they stayed. The repercussions for disobedience would have been devastating, and they knew it. So they chose to remain where they were and endure whatever humiliations they already knew, deep down, were inevitable.
"Good, now let's take a walk," I said. "We have plenty of time, so let's enjoy a nice, easy stroll. You can retrieve your shoes after we circle around." I set a leisurely pace, ambling along to make it clear we were in no rush. The boys fell into step behind us. "Isn't this nice?" I asked, though I expected no answer.
We moseyed along for a couple of minutes before I stopped and broke the silence. "Johnny Boy, would you like to see Blondie without his shirt on?" Blondie flinched visibly, while Johnny jerked his head up in surprise.
"N-no, that's okay."
"Wrong answer, Johnny Boy," I reprimanded. "Now try again. Would you like to see Blondie without his shirt on?"
"Um... yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Y-yes, I would like to see Blondie without his shirt on."
"Excellent!" I beamed. "I think that would be charming. Blondie has such a nice, slender physique, and deliciously smooth skin—almost like a girl's. You like girls, don't you? I think you'll find the sight of him in just his skimpy shorts rather titillating." I looked from the downcast Blondie back to Johnny. "Perhaps you'd like to help Blondie out of his shirt," I suggested. "Blondie, raise your arms up high so Johnny Boy can undress you."
Without a word, Johnny slowly stepped toward Blondie and grasped his shirt tail with both hands. Blondie lifted his arms above his head in automatic obedience. Johnny looked into Blondie's eyes and shrugged his shoulders—a silent apology for what he was about to do. I thought it was adorable.
Johnny pulled the shirt completely off, and Blondie shivered, despite the warm sun beaming down on him. He immediately crossed his arms across his chest while Andrea relieved Johnny of the discarded garment.
"Very nice," I said. "See what I mean, Johnny Boy?" I looked Blondie up and down lasciviously. My arousal built steadily as I drank in the sight of him—embarrassed, vulnerable, scantily clad, and completely at my mercy.
I'm sure it's become quite apparent to the reader by now that these humiliation sessions serve as an undeniable sexual turn-on for me. On several occasions, circumstances have aligned so perfectly that I've achieved instant gratification right on the spot. This has not always been the case, however. Take my latest session with Johnny Boy, for instance—exquisitely stimulating, yes, but conducted in a hallway full of witnesses. I couldn't exactly shove my hand down my panties and get myself off right there. Well, I could have, but even I have scruples. So I bought a special vibrator specifically for such situations. It nestles inside my panties, covering my entire vagina, complete with a clitoral stimulator. Oh, and it came with a compact remote control that I keep in my pocket. The remote offers three settings, the third being the most intensely stimulative.
I had a strong premonition that the Blondie/Johnny Boy session would prove particularly arousing, so I hadn't thought twice about packing it that morning while dressing.
As I watched Blondie self-consciously fold his arms across his bare chest, I slipped my hand into my pocket and nudged my vibrator to setting number one. It would be a leisurely stroll around the track with a gradual buildup in humiliation, and I wanted my own arousal to unfold in similar fashion.
"Blondie," I said, the vibrator already giving me subtle tingle. "Becky mentioned how Brenda's maid taught you the 'submission position.' Why don't you demonstrate it for Johnny Boy?" (Author's note: References to Brenda's maid and the "submission position" will become clearer when Roosevelt Humiliations: The Missing Chapters is published.)
Blondie proceeded to stand obediently erect, feet together, hands clasped behind his head with elbows thrust straight outward.
"Excellent. Johnny Boy, when you examine Blondie now, do you see anything remarkable? Bear in mind—he's seventeen years old."
"Um... um... he has no hair under his arms?"
"Yes! Very good! He has no hair under his arms! Just like you, Johnny, right?"
Johnny blushed, much to my delight. "Right," he said softly, gaze dropping to his bare feet.
"Blondie," I continued. "Would you care to see Johnny Boy's hairless underarms?" Blondie hesitated, prompting me to press further. "You'd best give me the right answer, Blondie."
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I'd like to see Johnny's... Johnny Boy's hairless underarms."
"Well, in that case, perhaps you should pull Johnny Boy's shirt off for him. So you can see properly."
Blondie turned to face Johnny, grasping the sides of his shirt while Johnny Boy compliantly raised his arms. Blondie struggled momentarily to extract the tucked-in shirt from Johnny's jeans, then pulled upward.
"It's adorable how you two enjoy undressing each other," I remarked. "I'm so pleased you've become fast friends." Blondie freed the shirt from Johnny's arms and passed it to Andrea's outstretched hand. The boys had turned away from each other, staring down awkwardly. "Did you get a proper look at Johnny Boy's underarms when you removed his shirt?" I asked Blondie.
"No, I wasn't looking," answered Blondie. I suspected he was lying.
"Oh, you simply must see, Blondie," I insisted. "It's quite charming. Johnny Boy, turn around and face Blondie. And assume the submission position." Johnny Boy reluctantly complied, and there they stood, facing each other in that exquisitely submissive pose. "Are you getting a proper look at Johnny Boy's underarms now, Blondie?" I asked.
"Yes."
"And?"
"No hair."
"Just like you, yes?"
"Yes."
"Say it."
"Just like me."
"BlondDIE?" I warned.
He knew what I required. "Johnny... Johnny Boy has no hair under his arms, just like me."
"I know! Yet another characteristic you two have in common. Very well, let's walk," I said, and our group of six resumed our stroll. "Andrea, you can drop their shirts here beside the track. They can retrieve them when we're finished." We continued onward, leaving the two shirts in our wake.
Incidentally, now that two bare-chested boys were walking the track, a few people began taking notice of the proceedings—some from the stands, others from the football field within the track. More would follow as students finished lunch in the cafeteria and ventured outside, which was already beginning to happen. The boys had picked up on the attention, which certainly amplified their already heightened anxiety. I was about to elevate that anxious state considerably.
"Why don't we stop here for a spell and take a break," I suggested.
We'd probably put somewhere between fifty and a hundred yards between ourselves and their shirts. All told, we hadn't even reached the halfway point. It was a standard 440-yard track, so we still had ample time for further amusement.
The boys stood facing opposite directions, staring down at the track. I took Blondie by the shoulders from behind and repositioned him so that he and Johnny faced each other. They stood roughly three feet apart. "Submission position, please. Both of you," I ordered. Within seconds they stood facing each other once more in that wonderful pose. Truly an apt name that Brenda's maid came up with. It signifies compliance, complete surrender. Submission—ah, such a lovely word, and it was on full display before me.
The reader may recall that I employed a pair of bunny ears during our humiliation session with Blondie in the cafeteria some time ago. I must say, placing those bunny ears on Blondie's head proved to be a delightful experience—he looked utterly adorable. Moreover, the expression of shame on his face when I put them on him was absolutely priceless, and the blush coloring his cheeks told me everything I needed to know about his feelings toward them. So I returned to the same costume shop and purchased several more, figuring they’d come in handy sooner or later. As it turned out, that day on the track was one of those times, so I’d brought two of them to school with me.
I reached into the plastic bag Natalie had been carrying and pulled them out. One was baby blue, the other pink. "I believe you'll look pretty in pink," I said to Blondie, holding up the pink bunny ears for his inspection. As I placed them on his head, I added, "Oh, Blondie, you're growing more adorable by the second." I reached up to the top of one ear and bent it forward slightly for effect, taking pleasure in the wretched expression on Blondie's face.
I turned to Johnny Boy and placed the blue bunny ears on his head, again meticulously bending an ear forward until satisfied. While the girls giggled, I stepped back and beamed, taking in the sight of the two unfortunates. They stood miserably in the submission position, naked from the waist up, adorned with newly acquired feminine-looking headwear. A sight for sore eyes indeed.
Both boys had turned their heads away from each other. I needed to remedy that. "I'd like you two to look at each other. It'd be really nice for the two of you to become better acquainted." The boys slowly turned their heads toward each other, but they averted eye contact. "Look each other in the eyes," I admonished. "Perhaps you might tell each other how cute you look in the bunny ears." The boys looked at each other but remained silent. I knew a surefire method to remedy that.
"All right, if you're not going to entertain us with your conversation, we'll entertain ourselves another way," I said, reaching around Blondie's waist with both hands to undo his shorts button. "Kayla, would you mind getting Johnny Boy's jeans down?"
"No!" the boys shouted in unison.
"Okay!" Blondie cried. "We'll talk!" I backed off and waited to be entertained. "Uh... uh..." Blondie began. "I like how you look in the bunny ears."
"M-Me too," Johnny replied.
Silence fell again, so I urged them onward. "You need to keep talking to each other about the bunny ears," I said. "We're not even halfway around the track yet. I'm guessing you'd prefer to delay stripping to your undies as long as possible."
Blondie, likely picturing himself walking the track in a pair of panties, spoke up immediately. "I don't like wearing them. How about you?" he asked Johnny. I smiled. This was precisely what I was looking for.
"No, I don't either," Johnny answered.
A moment of silence followed, and I could almost feel Blondie's pain as he struggled to continue the conversation. I mean, how much could possibly be said about bunny ears? "I like your blue ones better than these pink ones," Blondie offered. The four of us giggled heartily. We looked at Johnny, expectantly awaiting his response.
"Thank you," he said. After a silent pause he added, "I like yours, too."
We all then broke out into convulsive laughter as the two boys blushed beautifully.
"Oh, that was awesome," I said, wiping a tear from my eye as I resumed walking. "Let's continue our stroll, boys," I said. "I believe we've pretty much exhausted the bunny ears dialogue."
By the way, Andrea happens to be a very talented artist, and a couple of days after this session she sent me a wonderful illustration she created for me, beautifully capturing Blondie in the bunny ears. Here it is:
That was right after his stimulating bunny conversation with Johnny, just before we started walking again. I have to say, I like it at least as much as the actual photo, and I am truly grateful to Andrea for sharing it with me.
We ambled along for a couple of minutes before I came to a stop. "Hey, I know what—let's play a game!" I proposed excitedly. Both boys glanced at me nervously, knowing this could not possibly bode well for them.
