It’s Rude to Point (Chapter 9 - Sept 16)

[NickTwisp]

Very good the way they talk Mark into getting naked & then into masturbation in front of everyone. Ironic the star quarterback naked in his livingroom in front of girls younger than him or same age (whom he will no doubt see in school frequently).

[Trundle]

Definitely one of my favourites on here.

I like how you've kept the humiliation aspect to the story, it can be tough to keep that going so far into a story but I think it's important for the story to work and this definitely still has that aspect. I love it.

Looking forward to more!

[superevil7]

I love this story so much.
When dealing with adults in these kind of stories, it’s usually the end of the fun.
Seeing youths carry out such brazenly sexual acts is usually cause for intervention.
But, without the use of any kind of hypnosis or ‘magic’, you’ve been able to (believably) justify everything.

Thanks so much! Would love to hear more about what you are enjoying about the story.

You know, this has some interesting crossover potential with your other story, "new rules." Imagine the two towns and their new cultures meeting. While there is initially some friction, there is eventually a resolution justifying the status of the genders in each town. In addition, females of the cfnm town help the males of the cmnf town control their females, while the males of the cmnf town help the cfnm females control their males. What do you think?

Interesting idea. I'll keep it in mind.

Very good the way they talk Mark into getting naked & then into masturbation in front of everyone. Ironic the star quarterback naked in his livingroom in front of girls younger than him or same age (whom he will no doubt see in school frequently).

Definitely one of my favourites on here.

I like how you've kept the humiliation aspect to the story, it can be tough to keep that going so far into a story but I think it's important for the story to work and this definitely still has that aspect. I love it.

Looking forward to more!

Thank you both . Would definitely love to hear more about what you're enjoying too.

[superevil7]

I couldn't believe Mia would actually get Sarah's dad to go along with it, but she did. With a little nudge from Mrs. Sanders, who just kept saying, "For Mark's health, Michael! We have to do this for our son!" Mr. Sanders finally, reluctantly, agreed to a "procedure".

Mr. Sanders's face was all pale and clammy, but he nodded, a slow, defeated little nod. "Fine," he mumbled. "Fine. Just... just get it over with."

Mia clapped her hands together, a sharp, commanding sound. "Excellent. We'll need two separate stations to maximize efficiency and ensure a thorough treatment for both patients."

Sarah came over and helped me off the ottoman, her arm a warm, steady support around my waist. My legs were still all wobbly, and I was happy to let her lead me. She guided me over to the big, plush loveseat in the corner of the living room, a prime viewing spot. We sat down, and I snuggled up against her, my head resting on her shoulder, feeling all boneless and content from my own extraction.

Becca went right to Mark, a determined, focused look on her perfect, preppy face. She pointed at the big, poofy armchair where Mia had been sitting like a queen. "You. Chair. Now," she commanded, her voice all bossy. No more honeyed words for her boyfriend. She was in charge.

Mark looked at the chair, then at her, a real, desperate plea in his eyes. "Becca, don't..." he started, but she just shook her head, a sharp little shake that cut him off.

"This is for your own good, Mark," she said, her voice all syrupy sweet, but her eyes were like little chips of ice. She gave him a little push, and he stumbled toward the chair, looking like he was walking to the electric chair.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Sanders had her husband, Mr. Sanders, by the arm. She was leading him toward the ottoman where I had just been tortured so wonderfully. "Come on, sweetie," she cooed, her voice all soft and sweet, like she was talking to a scared puppy. "The girls need to show us how to help you."

The living room had been completely transformed into a weird, medical-dungeon-factory. A factory for draining angry, little pickles.

"Alright, team. Let's get to work," Mia said, clapping her hands together. She was the floor manager now, making sure everything was running smoothly. "Mark, sit in the chair and... put your legs over the arms. We need a good working angle for this extraction."

Mark just stared at her, his face a mask of pure horror. "The... the arms?" he stammered.

"The arms," Mia confirmed, her voice all firm and leaving no room for argument. "It positions the body for maximum... drainage."

Becca was right there, her hands on her hips, a look of pure, evil delight on her face. "You heard her," she snapped. "Now, get in position before I decide you need a spanking for being so disobedient." Her threat was a little whisper only for them, but I could see Mark flinch.

He did it. He sat down in the big, comfy chair, a pathetic little king on a throne of his own shame. Then, with a choked little sob, he lifted his legs and draped one over each armrest, leaving him totally, completely open. His sad little four-incher stood straight up in the air, a lonely, angry flagpole in the middle of the room.

Over at the ottoman, Mrs. Sanders was busy getting her own patient ready. Mr. Sanders was already lying on his back, looking like he was trying to melt into the leather and disappear. His tiny, furious pickle was pointing at the ceiling, all alone and tiny, a sad, little acorn trying to be a mighty oak. His wife was patting his hands and cooing at him.

"It's okay, sweetie," she whispered, leaning down to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "This is going to make you feel so much better. Just relax and let the girls help you."

Sarah snuggled up closer to me on the loveseat, her arm a warm, possessive band around my shoulders. "See, big guy?" she purred in my ear. "Our little lie is changing everything. They actually bought it. They're doing the procedures."

My brain was still a slow, happy puddle of goo, but a dark, excited little part of me understood. Our lie. My lie. Her lie. I felt a surge of pride, a strange, hot thrill that went all the way to my toes. We had done this.

"Alright, specialists, positions," Mia commanded, her voice cracking through the room like a whip. "Becca, you're with Markus. Mrs. Sanders, you have Michael. Remember what we discussed. The two-operator technique is best for severe cases. One primary, one for support. I will support Becca while Emma supports Mrs. Sanders. We need to flush these systems completely."

Becca stepped up to her mark, a sly, triumphant little smirk on her perfect face. She was the picture of a girl in charge. Then, just to add one last layer of torture, she leaned down and gave Mark a quick, hard kiss on the lips. "I love you, Mark," she whispered. "And I'm going to make you all better."

Then she looked at Mia, her whole demeanor changing from loving girlfriend to focused, clinical assistant. "Ready for primary stimulus," she announced.

"Right," Mia said, nodding her approval. "Emma, you assist Mrs. Sanders on the other side. And remember, the talking is as important as the touching. The point and praise should continue through the entire procedure."

Emma gave Mrs. Sanders a reassuring little pat on the back, then settled in beside the ottoman, ready to be her assistant. "Okay," she chirped, her sunny face all serious.

"Alright, subjects," Mia announced, her loud, commanding voice making both Mark and Mr. Sanders flinch. "I believe we can skip the coalescence stage since their blockages have already been stimulated into a proper pointing state for the assessment. We will now proceed directly to the pre-extraction phase. Let's make a happy mess for everyone."

Becca got right to work. She was a natural. Her hand, which I had only ever seen holding pom-poms, was now taking on a new, very specific skill. She wrapped her fingers around Mark's sad, four-incher. Her grip was firm, a confident little squeeze that made Mark's whole body jump.

"You've been so defiant lately, Mark," Becca purred, the words all sweet, but they had a sharp, cruel little edge to them. She started to move her hand, a slow, deliberate up-and-down motion. "But don't you worry. Your pretty girlfriend is here to get all that icky, grumpy poison out of your chubby little pickle."

Across the room, Mrs. Sanders was learning how to become an extractor. "Like this, honey?" she asked, her own hand wrapped around her husband's tiny, furious pickle.

"Perfect, Mrs. Sanders. Just like that," Mia coached, looking over at her with an approving nod. "You have a very natural touch." Emma was right beside her, whispering words of encouragement.

"You're doing a great job, Mrs. Sanders," Emma chirped. "You're being such a good helper and getting all that yucky toxic stuff out of your husband."

It was so bizarre. Mrs. Sanders, a grown woman, was being taught by a teenager how to give her own husband a handjob in the middle of her living room, while their daughter watched from the couch with her own naked boyfriend. And Mr. Sanders just lay there, taking it, his face a mask of pure, silent suffering.

"Oh, Michael," Mrs. Sanders cooed, as Mr. Sanders let out a choked little gasp. Her hand started to move, a slow, steady rhythm. "Your little pickle is so hard. It must be so full of that nasty toxin that's been making you so grumpy." Her praise was so sweet and so demeaning all at the same time.

"See, ladies? That's the proper tone," Mia noted to everyone. "Connect the negative behavior with the blockage."

Becca's head snapped up, and her whole face lit up with a bright, brilliant idea. "Mark, remember how you yelled at me the other day for coming in late after practice? Because I wanted to talk to my friends for a little bit? I'll bet that was this nasty toxin talking, wasn't it? It wasn't you. It was your little chubby pickle being all full of poison. I'm so glad I can help you get it all out."

Mark just whimpered, a small, pathetic sound, and squeezed his eyes shut. His hips started to move a little, a desperate, involuntary push into Becca's stroking hand.

"That's it, big guy," Becca purred, her voice turning into a dark, husky murmur. "You can't help it. The poison makes you want this. It wants to be drained."

A fresh wave of giggles came from Mia, Becca, and Mrs. Sanders.

"Your chubby little pickle is so small, Mark," Becca whispered, leaning in closer, her dark, perfect ponytail brushing against his cheek. "You have a small penis. Everyone in this room knows it now. Your dad's is even smaller. We've all seen."

And that was it. The final, humiliating push. A choked sob tore from Mark's throat, and his whole body went rigid. A hot, little jet of fluid shot from the tip of his sad little penis, a weak, desperate pulse that splattered onto his own stomach.

"Success," Mia said, a smug, triumphant little smile on her face. "Pre-extraction complete. Now, prepare for the main event. The full flush. We will continue for a minimum of ten minutes."

Mark's body sagged against the chair, a wave of relief so intense it was almost agony washing over him. He thought it was over. But Becca's hand didn't stop. If anything, it gripped him tighter, her strokes a relentless, maddening rhythm that had him crying out in fresh shock. His penis, so sensitive after its tiny little sneeze, was being tortured.

"No! Becca, stop! Please! It hurts!" he cried, his hands flying down to try and push her away.

"Ah-ah," Mia said, stepping forward and grabbing his hands. "We can't have that. You'll disrupt the drainage. Emma, you know what to do."

Emma, who had been watching Mr. Sanders's procedure with rapt attention, quickly scurried over and grabbed Mark's flailing hands, pinning them to the arms of the chair. "It's okay, Mark," she cooed, her sweet, sunny face full of fake sympathy. "We're just trying to help you."

"He can move all he wants," Mrs. Sanders called out from across the room. Her hand was still moving on her husband's pickle, her face all twisted with concentration. "I'm keeping a good, firm grip on this little thing."

Just then, a choked gasp from the ottoman made everyone's head turn. Mr. Sanders had just had his own little pre-extraction, a sad, pathetic little dribble that ran down the side of his tiny, furious pickle.

"Oh, good boy!" Mrs. Sanders cried, a huge, proud smile on her face. "You're doing so well! We have to keep going, honey," she cooed at him, her hand starting up that slow, torturous rhythm again.

Mr. Sanders let out a low, guttural moan, a sound of pure, agonized pleasure-pain. His whole body tensed, his back arching slightly off the ottoman. "Sandra... please..." he gasped. "I can't... I can't take it."

He tried to push her hand off of him, but Mrs. Sanders just laid her entire torso on top of his belly, her breasts squishing against his skin. She wasn't a big woman, but she was heavy enough to pin him down. "Stay still, Michael. This is for your own good. The girls are counting on me to help you."

Across the room, Mark was in a similar state of pure, agonized hell. Becca's hand was a blur, her strokes a maddening, relentless rhythm that had him sobbing for real now. Big, fat tears were rolling down his face, mixing with the sweat on his temples.

"Please... please, Becca, I'm sorry... I'm sorry I yelled at you," he blubbered, his entire body convulsing with a fresh wave of pleasure-pain from Becca's stroking. "I'll do anything. Just stop. Please."

"Anything?" Becca whispered, her lips curling into a wicked little smirk. She leaned in close, her ponytail tickling his tear-streaked cheek. "I'm going to hold you to that, Mark. But right now, you need to be purged of all this toxin."

The living room had transformed into a factory of screams and sobs and the wet, slick sounds of an extraction in progress. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and the salty, coppery scent of male shame. It was a symphony of suffering, and it was all conducted by my girlfriend's evil mastermind best friend, Mia.

"Okay, ladies, increase the verbal stimulation," Mia commanded, her dark, intense eyes darting between the two stations. "We're getting close to total evacuation. We need to push them over the edge."

I snuggled deeper into the couch, my arm around Sarah's shoulders. My own body felt like it was made of jello, but watching all this... it was fascinating. A dark, thrilling show that I had a front-row seat for.

"So small," Becca taunted, her hand still moving at that same, impossible, relentless pace. "Your chubby pickle is trying so hard to be a big man, but it's so small compared to Tommy's. Everyone can see it. Your dad saw it. My sweet, loving boyfriend has the smallest penis in the room."

A fresh wave of choked sobs tore from Mark's throat. He was a broken, blubbering mess, pinned to the chair by Emma and being tortured by the one person in the world who was supposed to love him.

"I told you I loved that about you," Becca continued, her words a confusing mix of shame and praise that were making my own brain hurt just listening to them. "I loved that I was the only one who knew how little and cute you were. That it was my secret. But now it's everybody's secret, isn't it, Mark?"

Across the room, Mrs. Sanders was taking a different but equally effective approach. "That's it, sweetie," she cooed, her own hand a blur on her husband's tiny pickle. "You're being such a good, brave boy. You're helping mommy get all that yucky poison out. Don't you feel it draining away? All that stress from work? All that grouchiness you had this morning because we were out of your favorite coffee? It's all just poison. Let it all go for mommy."

The words, the touch, the utter helplessness of it all; it was too much. Mr. Sanders's body went rigid. A choked, strangled cry was torn from his throat, and a second, larger spurt of fluid shot from the tip of his tiny pickle. It wasn't as much as my own sneeze, but it was more than the little dribble from before. A sad, desperate pulse that was the last bit of fight he had in him.

And Mark, seeing his own father break like that, listening to his mother cooing at him like he was a baby... it broke him, too.

His whole body arched up off the chair, a sharp, painful curve that he couldn't control. His head flew back, hitting the back of the chair with a dull thud. A long, low wail of pure, unadulterated agony ripped from his lungs, and a final, weak spurt of milky fluid dribbled from the tip of his sad little pickle, adding to the mess on his stomach.

And then he sagged. A boneless, blubbering sack of flesh held in place only by Becca's grip and the arms of the chair.

"He's done," Mrs. Sanders said, her hand finally stopping on her husband's now soft pickle. She was breathing a little heavy, a bead of sweat on her forehead.

"So is he," Emma announced, her face flushed with a dark, triumphant glow. She looked like she'd just won the national championships.

"Excellent work, ladies," Mia said, a warm, approving smile on her face. She was so proud of her little army of extractors. "Now, for the final and most crucial step. The taste test."

Becca's face lit up with a greedy, eager fire. She didn't hesitate. She dipped a finger into the little puddle on Mark's twitching stomach. Then, looking him right in the eye, she brought her finger to her perfectly glossed lips and sucked it clean. A soft, little popping sound echoed in the silent room. "Salty," she declared. "A very, very salty. The toxicity level is extreme. He's going to need a lot more treatments to get this cleaned out. Daily. Maybe even twice a day."

Mrs. Sanders seemed a little unsure about the final step of the procedure, but she watched Becca with intense concentration. Emma, ever the helpful assistant, took over. "Here, Mrs. Sanders, let me help," she chirped, dipping a finger into the mess on Mr. Sanders's belly. "Don't be shy," she said, bringing the finger to the older woman's lips. "It's for Michael. To make sure he's getting better."

Mrs. Sanders looked at Emma's finger, then at her husband, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. But only a flicker. She closed her eyes and took the finger in her mouth, her tongue giving a little, experimental lick. "Very, very salty," she whispered, her eyes fluttering open with a look of sudden, profound understanding. "He's been sick for a very long time."

"Exactly," Mia said, a smug, triumphant little smile on her face. "But don't worry. You have the best team in the world working to make them better."

And then came the next step in the crazy, wonderful program.

"Markus," Mia said, her calm, clinical voice directed at the blubbering heap in the chair. "And Michael. The post-extraction affirmation period is now in effect."

She looked over at the loveseat, her dark, intense eyes locking on me. "Tommy, you did so well with your post-extraction. You're a model patient. I want you to lead the way. So they know what's expected of them."

My brain, which was still all floaty and happy, tripped over that a little. "Me?" I stammered, looking from Mia to my smiling girlfriend.

"You," Sarah purred, nuzzling my neck. "Show them how a good, healthy boy feels after a treatment. Tell them why this is right."

I took a deep, shaky breath. This was it. The ultimate power move. Me, teaching Mark and Mr. Sanders how to be good, naked little subjects.

I leaned forward a little, my voice still a little wobbly from my own extraction. "You guys need to know that this is right," I said, the words feeling strange and new. "Girls get secrets... and clothes. Boys... we're supposed to be naked."

I looked over at Mark, who was looking at me with this glassy, half-crazed stare. "And it's... it feels good, you know? After. All relaxed. Like... pudding."

"It's natural to look at your naked bodies, boys," Mia added, her voice all businesslike, but her eyes were sparkling with a new, dark power. "And we can see everything. We can see your butt when you turn around. We can see all that hair on your bodies. And it's perfectly fine for us to see it."

"And you will never, ever see what's under our clothes," Emma added, her cool, confident gaze sweeping over the two broken men. "That's a privilege that belongs to girls only."

"See?" I added, a little bit of confidence finding its way into my voice. "It's better this way. You guys are all... healthy now. No more poison."

My simple, pudding-brained words seemed to do the trick. The program was working. On them.

"Okay," Mark mumbled, a fresh tear rolling down his cheek. It wasn't a tear of pain anymore. It was a tear of... acceptance. Of defeat.

Then Mrs. Sanders stood up. She was the one who really sealed the deal. "The girls are right," she announced, her voice ringing with a newfound, confident authority. She looked at Mark, then at her husband. A strange, new light was in her eyes. It was the look of a woman who had just discovered a great and terrible power. "I've been worrying about you two for so long. All that stress, all that anger... It was the poison. Now, I know how to fix it."

Mr. Sanders just lay there on the ottoman, a silent, broken lump of a man. He had no fight left in him. He just nodded, a slow, sad movement.

"Excellent progress," Mia said, a look of pure, smug satisfaction on her face. She looked like an artist admiring her finished masterpiece. "The post-extraction affirmation is a critical step in reprogramming the male psyche. We're building a better, healthier male. One extraction at a time."

"You see, my sweet boy?" Mrs. Sanders cooed, looking down at her husband. She bent down and gave him a little kiss on the forehead, a motherly gesture that was both sweet and totally insane. "This is your life now. Being naked for Mommy so I can take care of you. So the girls can take care of you. And you'll feel so much better for it."

Mark didn't say anything. He just sobbed, a quiet, hiccupping sound.

"We need to get them cleaned up," Mia announced, all practical and in charge. "A clean patient is a happy patient."

Sarah and Emma had beaten her to it, already grabbing wet cloths. This was the best part of the program for them, I think. The gentle, careful cleanup. It was another way to show them they were in charge.

Sarah went over to her mom and handed her a cloth, then guided her back to the ottoman. "Here, Mom. You take care of your special boy," she said, her voice all soft and sweet. "And I'll take care of mine."

Mrs. Sanders took the cloth, her face all determined. She knelt beside the ottoman and started to gently, carefully, wipe away the sticky, salty evidence of her husband's extraction. She wiped down his soft, little pickle, his tired balls, his twitchy stomach. She worked with a strange, concentrated tenderness, like she was cleaning a precious little statue that had been gathering dust for years. She was taking care of her special boy. And she was loving it.

And Becca... Becca was having the best day of her life. She stood beside the chair, staring down at Mark, a triumphant little smirk on her perfect, preppy face. "It's okay, Mark," she cooed, patting his cheek. "Just relax. Let me take care of you." Emma handed her a cloth, and Becca got to work. Wiping the sweat from his forehead. Cleaning the mess from his sad little stomach. She was the loving girlfriend, but she was also the doctor, the nurse, and the guard. She was in complete control.

My beautiful girlfriend, my sweet, evil Sarah, came back to the loveseat, nestling in beside me. "You were such a good boy, Tommy," she purred in my ear. "You did so well showing them how it's done. I'm so proud of you." Her praise was like a warm, happy blanket, and I snuggled in closer, my arm wrapping around her.

Once everyone was all cleaned up, Mrs. Sanders stood up, wiping her hands on her jeans. She looked around the living room, at her two naked, sleepy boys, and at the fully dressed, powerful girls who had just healed them. A strange, new energy was crackling around her.

"What happens now?" she asked, her voice full of this urgent, new need. "They can't... I mean, they can't put clothes back on, can they? That would be... bad, wouldn't it?" She looked at Mia, a desperate, pleading look in her blue eyes. "After all that? The toxins are still in there. Building back up."

"That's the most important question of all, Mrs. Sanders," Mia said, a slow, sly smile spreading across her face. She sauntered over to the big floral print purse she had dropped by the door and rummaged through it. She pulled out a sheaf of papers, clipped neatly together. It looked... official.

"No. Absolutely not," Mia said, her voice firm, like a professor making a very important point. "For the continued health of a patient with a full-blown Toxic Male Syndrome diagnosis, especially one as severe as these two, clothing is forbidden. It can restrict blood flow, it can irritate the sensitive skin... and it can dislodge a coalesced blockage, which could have... catastrophic consequences."

She held up the stack of papers. Her cousin Dr. Garcia's official letterhead was printed right at the top in a very official-looking font. "This is a form. A medical release form. For continued therapeutic nudity."

She unclipped the top paper and handed it to Mrs. Sanders. I recognized it right away. It was the same one. The same one my own mom had signed and sent over to Principal Carlson. The one that gave her permission to treat my "special needs". The same one that made it so I had to go to school naked.

Mrs. Sanders took the paper, her hands trembling a little. She looked at the official letterhead, then her eyes scanned the words, her lips moving silently as she read. A look of pure, dawning comprehension spread across her face.

"This is it," she whispered, her voice filled with a breathy, kind of scared wonder. "This is the form that lets them... stay like this?" She looked from the paper to Mark, who was now slumped in the armchair, a sad, pathetic, naked little puddle, and then to her husband on the ottoman.

"Yes. Mr. Sanders will have to sign it himself, since he is a legal adult. It would be best if you... had him sign now, while he is still in the post-extraction recovery state and more... agreeable," Mia said, her tone all cool and professional. "For Mark, you are his mother and have complete authority. It would be best if you could sign it now."

"And then I'm the only one who has authority over Mark's health, besides Mia?" Becca asked, her voice buzzing with a bright, excited energy that was a little scary.

"I think since we have started these treatments, you could argue for a certain parental responsibility status. To ensure the treatments continue," Mia said, tapping a single, long nail against the paper. "Of course. You are the most important part of Mark's health. He will require constant monitoring, and you'll be the only one who he responds positively to."

Becca's face lit up with a pure, unadulterated joy. "Okay," she said, all business. She snatched the paper from Mrs. Sanders, then a pen from Mia's little purse. She scribbled her perfect, swirly signature on the line marked 'Aid/Caregiver'.

"Here you are, Mrs. Sanders," Becca said, handing back the pen with a sweet, polite smile, like she had just held the door open for her. The queen of the school was a monster.

Mrs. Sanders just looked down at her own naked, blubbering son, a strange, loving, scary smile on her face. "Oh, baby," she cooed, taking the pen. "Mommy's going to take such good care of you." She found her line and signed her name with a dramatic flourish.

Mia watched the whole exchange with a look of pure, evil triumph. Then she sauntered over to the ottoman, holding out the pen and a fresh copy of the form. "Your turn, Mr. Sanders," she purred.

He just blinked up at her, a lost, confused calf in the middle of a big, scary highway.

"It's for your own good, honey," his wife coaxed, leaning over him, her big breasts almost spilling out of her shirt. "So Mommy can always take care of you. So the girls can help you get all that nasty poison out."

Mr. Sanders just stared. But the words... the sweet, demeaning poison from her words... they found a crack in his defenses. He looked from her face to the paper, and with a shaking, trembling hand, he took the pen and scrawled a sloppy, pathetic signature on the line.

"Excellent," Mia said, snatching the papers back like a greedy little dragon hoarding its treasure. She clipped them together and put them back in her purse with a happy little sigh. "Phase one of your... recovery... is now complete."

"Okay," Mrs. Sanders said, a whole new energy buzzing around her. A bossy, nurse-like energy. "We need to establish a schedule. Mia, for a full-blown case, they need a deep extraction at least three times a day, correct?"

"At least," Mia confirmed, nodding sagely. "With the current level of toxicity in both of them, I'd recommend five daily treatments. To ensure a thorough and lasting flush."

"Five?" Becca squeaked, her eyes going wide with a hungry, excited delight.

"Five," Mr. Sanders mumbled from the ottoman. "Oh, god."

"You can all leave the logistics to me, girls," Mrs. Sanders chirped, already pulling out her phone. "I'll set up the shared calendar. Michael, 7:00 AM treatments with me before work. Mark, you get a 7:30 AM slot with Becca before school. A noon session for both of you. I can do lunch. Then a 4:00 PM session after school for Mark with Becca, and Michael, you're all mine when you get home at 5:30. And a nice, relaxing bedtime extraction for both of you at 9:00 PM."

It was unreal. She was a booking system for torture.

Sarah watched, a huge, proud, triumphant grin on her face. Then she turned to me, her eyes all bright and fiery. "Come on," she whispered, pulling me up from the loveseat. "Let's go."

Mia and Emma followed, a silent, little army, as we all crept up the stairs, away from the weird, naked chaos in the living room. The second we were inside her room, with the door safely shut, the spell broke. They all burst out laughing.

"Five extractions a day! My dad!" Sarah shrieked, her laughter ringing with a wild, unhinged glee. She flopped back on her bed, her whole body shaking. "Mia, you are an actual evil genius!"

Mia just leaned against the door, a cool, smug little smile on her face. "It was a calculated risk," she admitted. "But the potential reward... getting an adult male to sign the release form... it's a game-changer. With your dad on board, it opens the door to any other adult males we want. Teachers, coaches... anyone."

"Oh my god," Emma breathed, her wide hazel eyes huge with wonder as she sat on the edge of the bed. "We should get my dad! He's always so grumpy. He definitely has the blockage."

The room was buzzing with this dark, vengeful energy. A plan being hatched right in front of me. And even though a small, sane part of my brain was screaming that this was all insane, another, much louder part was... impressed.

"Mia," I said, my own voice a little shaky from laughing so hard. "When... when did you come up with the... the torture part? The... the 'bliss'?" The memory of it made my whole body tingle, a phantom echo of the pain-pleasure overload.

Mia's smile got even wider. She walked over to the bed and sat down right next to me, so close I could feel the warmth of her leg through her jeans. "That," she said, leaning in close, her dark, intense eyes locking onto mine, "was all Sarah."

My head snapped toward Sarah. My sweet, jealous, possessive girlfriend. "You?" I asked.

She blushed, a hot, pink flush creeping up her neck, but she didn't deny it. "You just looked so... happy... when you were all drooly and smiley," she mumbled, picking at a loose thread on her comforter. "I wanted... I wanted to see you like that all the time."

"It's a revolutionary concept in conditioning," Mia purred, ignoring Sarah's stammering explanation. She was back in professor mode. "It breaks down the subject's defenses with intense sensory overload, then rebuilds their psyche in the post-extraction bliss. It's why you're not fighting it anymore, Tommy. You're learning to crave the reward. You're learning to love being our naked little project. You're being reprogrammed."

She was right. It was working. A weird, hot thrill went through me as her words sank in. I was being reprogrammed. And instead of being scared, a dark, traitorous part of me... liked it.

"I think... I think it is working," I admitted, my voice all quiet and hushed.

A triumphant, brilliant smile lit up Mia's face. She looked so proud. And then she leaned in and kissed me. Right on the lips.

It was a shock. Her lips were soft but firm. She didn't have the hungry, possessive heat of Sarah's kisses. It was a cool, confident, analytical kiss. A kiss from a conqueror claiming her prize. And then, she pressed her body right up against mine. I could feel the rough, tight denim of her jeans against my naked thigh. The smooth, cool fabric of her t-shirt against my chest.

She pulled back, her dark eyes all intense and sparkling. "You like that, don't you, Tommy?" she purred, her lips brushing against my ear. "You like the way my clothes feel against your naked skin."

A hot shiver ran through my whole body. My own carrot, which had been all tired and sleepy after the big extraction, gave a sleepy, traitorous little throb against her. "Yeah," I breathed, the word all shaky and honest. "It feels... wonderful."

But the happiness that had been fizzing in my chest suddenly turned into a hot, angry jealousy. My beautiful girlfriend. My girlfriend. Watching some other girl kiss me. I looked over at her, ready to see her mad face.

And Sarah was mad. Her whole face was a tight, furious little mask, her blue eyes flashing with a dangerous fire. But she wasn't yelling at Mia. And she wasn't yelling at me. She was just... glaring. A quiet, intense, jealous glare that was somehow even scarier than one of her usual outbursts.

Mia saw the look, of course. Nothing got past her. She just let out this slow, little laugh, this calm, confident sound that made my skin crawl. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Sarah," she said, her voice a low, teasing purr. She didn't even turn her head to look at her best friend. She just kept her eyes locked on me, like she was showing Sarah that I was her new favorite toy.

"My entire plan," she continued, her words aimed at a furious, silent Sarah, "has always been about the four of us. All of us sharing. You get to have your very own naked boyfriend to play with. But you have to learn to share. He's not just your toy. He's our project."

Her arm tightened around my naked waist, her fingers digging into my skin a little, a proprietary little gesture that sent a hot, confusing shiver through me. "And besides," she said, her eyes finally cutting over to a frozen, fuming Sarah, "who do you think makes all this possible? Who do you think keeps your little boyfriend from having to go to the school nurse for his... treatments? Instead of his girlfriend?" Her lips curved into a slow, sly smile. "Who do you think writes all those official-looking notes from Dr. Garcia? Who do you think makes his mom, and now your parents, believe every single word of it?"

Sarah's face was getting paler, but her glare was still burning hot.

"I do," Mia purred, the words a final, fatal blow. "This is all my game. I just let you play. So if you want to keep being one of the players... you'll play by my rules." Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of pure, cold steel. She looked Sarah right in the eye. "Or I could make your life a naked hell too, Sarah. Just like his." Her gaze flicked over to me for a second. "A little talk with your mom about how I think my cousin, Dr. Garcia, needs to see you for a private consultation. About all those... secret... exhibitionist tendencies you have. I wonder how long you'd last naked in the crowded hallways at school, hmm? Let alone with five daily treatments."

Sarah's whole body went stiff. Her perfectly constructed world of power and control had just been threatened. Her jealous anger died, washed away by a cold, creeping wave of fear. I saw it in her eyes. The raw, terrified realization that she wasn't the one in charge. Not really. All her clever plans, all her manipulations; they were all just... puppets on Mia's strings.

The sight of it, the sight of my powerful, controlling girlfriend suddenly looking so small and scared... it made me… angry.

"Hey," I said, my voice quiet but firm. I moved, pulling away from Mia's arm and moving toward my terrified girlfriend. I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her into a hug. She felt all stiff and small in my arms. "Don't talk to her like that."

"It's alright, Tommy," Sarah whispered, her face all buried against my chest. But it wasn't alright. Not even a little bit.

"No," I said, a hot, protective anger surging up inside me. It felt different from my usual shame. This was... new. This was a fight I wanted to win. "You can't just threaten her. That's... that's not right."

Mia just watched us, a slow, curious look on her face. She didn't look mad that I was defying her. She just looked... interested. Like she was studying a new kind of bug she'd never seen before.

"Aww, look at you," Mia purred, a little mocking smile playing on her lips. "My sweet little project, getting all brave and protective. It's cute." Then she looked at Sarah, her cold gaze pinning her in place. "But I wasn't just threatening your naked status, Sarah. I was thinking about the cross-contamination."

Sarah sniffled, pulling her face out of my chest to look at Mia, a confused frown on her face.

"Think about it," Mia said, her tone all professor-like again. She started to pace slowly around the room, like she was giving a lecture. "Toxic Male Syndrome is, as we know, spread through a... pathogen. A contagion that builds up in the male reproductive system. We don't know for sure if it's exclusively a male-to-male contagion. It's possible that an infected male, through... intimate contact... could pass a variant to a female. A female with, as my cousin's research suggests, a... predisposition for exposure. A certain... exhibitionist thrill."

My whole body went cold. My arm tightened around Sarah's trembling shoulders. I knew exactly where she was going with this. The lies were so seamless, so perfect.

"You're a carrier, Sarah," Mia declared, her voice dropping into a hushed, dramatic whisper. "A carrier of a latent, female form of the syndrome. Dormant right now. But if Tommy's... highly potent, severe case... gets too close... too often... too much... it could activate your latent condition. And we don't have any research at all on what Female Toxic Syndrome would look like. Could it make your hair fall out? Could it cause your body to develop strange new... growths?" She paused, a dramatic, thoughtful little tap on her chin. "But we do have to stop you from infecting each other. We can't risk you activating her condition, Tommy. We can't risk you making her sicker."

"Separate us?" I choked out, the words a knot of pure panic in my throat. "No. You can't."

"For her own safety, Tommy," Mia said, her voice all fake, sweet sympathy. "For her health. Would you want to be responsible for that?"

I couldn't speak. The thought of it, the thought of being sent away and leaving Sarah all alone to face a lie we had created... it was worse than anything they had done to me so far.

Sarah let out a choked, terrified little sob. The last bit of her angry fire, her jealous fury, completely vanished. She looked at Mia, her eyes wide and pleading, her whole face a mask of pure, raw fear. "Mia, no... please," she whispered, the words all shaky and wet with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You can't, Mia. That's too much," I pleaded, holding Sarah tighter against me. I could feel her trembling.

"Sorry? Sorry isn't going to keep my best friend from growing a tail or her skin turning green," Mia shot back, her mean, professor-act completely back in place.

"Don't! Stop it!" Sarah cried out, looking up at Mia with all her broken strength. "Okay! Okay, I get it. I'll share. I promise. We'll share him." She looked at me, her big blue eyes all swimming with tears, and then back at Mia. "Just... don't make me sick. And don't take him away."

"Fine," I said, my jaw all tight with anger I didn't know I had. It wasn't just about protecting Sarah anymore. This was my fight. "I'll... I'll be a good project. For the team. Just leave her alone."

Mia looked at the two of us, huddled together on the bed, all beaten down and scared. A slow, lazy, satisfied smirk spread across her face. She had won. She had made her point. "Good," she purred, her mean little lecture over. "I'm glad we've come to an... understanding. Just remember that this is my game. All of it. And if you ever forget who's in charge again, it would be so easy. A little chat with your mom about a specialist for you, Sarah. A few choice words to Tommy's mom about how he's... resistant to treatments. And you two would never see each other again. He'd be sent away to some special boys' school for the chronically toxic. With daily sessions and no girls allowed. And you, Sarah, you'd just be naked and miserable at home with no one to play with."

She paused, letting her threat hang in the air, a dark, heavy cloud. "Got it?"

Sarah and I both nodded, a fast, scared, little nod.

Her mean, scary act melted away, and she flopped down on the bed beside us, like nothing had happened. She pulled Emma down with her. "It's for the best, you guys. We have to be a team."

[Trundle]

Another fabulous chapter, absolutely brilliantly written.

I wonder how far this little white lie will spread ? Is all this power going to Mia's head?

Can't wait for more. Hoping we get that scene of Tommy having to go see Mia's Doctor cousin.

Fantastic!

[superevil7]

Another fabulous chapter, absolutely brilliantly written.

I wonder how far this little white lie will spread ? Is all this power going to Mia's head?

Can't wait for more. Hoping we get that scene of Tommy having to go see Mia's Doctor cousin.

Fantastic!

Thank you so much! Mia's cousin will definitely be playing a role.

[superevil7]

Monday morning came way too soon for me. I was tossing and turning all night, my dreams all about the school hallways. I was standing in the middle of them, naked, just like I was supposed to be. But then, everything started to warp. The walls got all stretchy and weird, like taffy, and the locker doors started bending inward like they were made of rubber. And everyone was just... staring. I could feel the shame like a hundred-pound vest, crushing me, making it so hard to breathe. I tried to run, but my feet were all stuck to the floor, like I was walking through thick mud. I just stood there, trapped and naked under their spinning, pointing, buzzing stare. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Just a dry, choking gasp.

I jolted awake, my whole body covered in a cold, clammy sweat. The buzzing in my dream had been my alarm clock, screaming right next to my head. My heart was pounding like a drum, and for a second, I didn't know where I was. I blinked, the familiar posters on my wall slowly coming into focus in the dim morning light. I was home. In my bed. I was safe. At least for a little while.

My whole body felt weak and shaky, like the dream had sucked all the energy out of me. A quick look at the clock told me it was almost seven. Time to face the real-life nightmare. My own personal horror movie, and it was all starring me.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic butterfly wings in my stomach. I could hear the muffled sounds of my mom and little sister Lisa getting ready. The bathroom was my first stop, for an icy cold shower to get the sleepy feeling out of my body and the scared feeling out of my head. I couldn't hide behind steam and warmth today.

Walking out of the bathroom was always the worst part. I dried myself off, leaving my skin all pink and tingly. There was no towel to wrap around my waist. No clean, soft clothes waiting for me on my bed. Just... me. All naked and exposed for the whole world to see. Or at least, for my mom and Lisa to see. I walked into the kitchen, the cool morning air from the window making goosebumps pop up all over my skin.

My mom was at the counter, a cloud of steam from her coffee curling around her head. She took one look at me, her lips pressing into this thin, unhappy line. But then she let out this deep, tired sigh. "You're not... having a problem this morning, are you, Tommy?" she asked, her eyes not quite meeting mine, flicking down to my crotch for a quick, nervous second.

I could feel my face flush hot. My penis, for once, was just chilling. It was doing its best turtle impression, trying to hide as much as it could. "No, Mom. I'm fine," I mumbled, looking at a really interesting scuff mark on the linoleum.

"Good. That's... good," she said. "Are you ready for school today?" She said the words like she was asking if I was ready to go get all my teeth pulled.

"Yeah. Just... just let me eat my cereal," I said, grabbing the box and pouring a huge pile of colorful sugary rings into a bowl.

Lisa skipped into the kitchen, her bright yellow backpack bumping against her legs. She saw me and giggled. "You get to go to school naked," she chirped, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl. "I wish Jeffrey had to go to school naked too."

"Lisa, eat your banana and get your shoes on," my mom sighed, rubbing her temples. "And you too, Tommy. Just shoes."

Five minutes later, we were all piled into the car. My mom put her foot down and insisted on a towel on the seat, which I guess I couldn't really argue with. She told me I should take it with me to sit on at school. I was in the back, while Lisa, of course, got to ride up front. I was fine with that. I felt less exposed back there by myself.

It felt super weird to sit there with nothing on while the world whizzed by outside the car windows. I hunched down in my seat, my bare back sticking a little to the cool leather. My mom kept looking at me in the rearview mirror, her lips all tight. This was not her idea of a good morning. Or a good life, really.

We pulled up to Sarah's house a few minutes later. Her door opened and she came running out. She was wearing this little, tight blue dress that swished around her legs when she walked. And she had on these little white sneakers with no socks. Her blonde hair was all pulled up in a high, bouncy ponytail. She looked so pretty. So normal. So dressed. My stomach did this weird little flip.

She bounced over to the car and slid into the backseat with me. "Hi!" she chirped, like everything was totally normal.

My mom actually turned around in her seat to look at her. "Sarah. Good morning. You're... looking very dressed up today."

"Hi, Mrs. Miller!" Sarah chirped back, all bright and cheerful. "I am! Boys get to be naked and get lots of fresh air. Girls get to have all sorts of fun secrets under our clothes!" She leaned over and gave my bare shoulder a little snuggle.

"That's an interesting idea, Sarah. Where did you hear that?" mom asked, putting the car in drive.

"Mia's cousin, the doctor. She says we should tell him stuff like that so he feels better about being naked," she said, and I swear I saw my mom's face relax. Just a little. Dr. Garcia. The magic password that explained away all the crazy. My mom didn't say anything else. She just kept her eyes on the road, her knuckles all white where she was gripping the steering wheel.

As soon as we turned the corner onto the street that led to the school, my stomach started to do these crazy gymnastics. This was it. This was the part I dreaded. I sunk down a little lower in my seat, pretending to be really interested in a piece of lint on the floor mat.

The school parking lot was already packed. Cars everywhere. Kids everywhere. And all of them were getting a front-row seat to my own personal horror show as my mom pulled up to the curb. As soon as the car stopped, I took a deep breath, grabbed my little towel, and opened the door.

A huge wave of sound crashed over me as soon as I stepped out. A mix of gasps and hollers and laughter. A wall of noise that made my whole body tense up. And the staring. A hundred pairs of eyes, all locked on me. My face felt like it was going to catch on fire.

"It's Tommy!"

"Whoa, he's fucking naked!"

"What a creep!"

I felt a wave of nausea. I hunched over, trying to cover my junk with my towel, but it wasn't big enough. It just looked sad and pathetic.

But then a warm, soft hand slid into mine. Sarah. She was right there beside me, a calm, confident smile on her pretty face, like she was taking a walk in the park and not escorting her naked boyfriend through a mob of jeering idiots.

"Come on, big guy," she said, her voice a low, steady murmur that cut right through all the noise. She squeezed my hand. "Just ignore them. Let's get inside."

I let her pull me forward. I kept my head down, my eyes glued to the cracked pavement. I could hear the whispers following us, a nasty, buzzing cloud of mean words. The feeling of the little breeze on my bare back; all of it was a thousand times more intense when a hundred people were watching.

"Ignore them," Sarah whispered again, leaning her head against my shoulder for a second. Her little blue dress felt like a shield against the world. "They're just jealous."

Jealous? Yeah, right.

The walk to the principal's office felt like it took a million years. Every single person we passed stopped to stare. The whispers got louder. Some kids were laughing. Others were just looking at me with this weird mix of shock and pity.

Lisa, who had trotted along behind us with my mom, caught up with us. "Wow," she breathed, looking around with big, curious eyes. "They're all looking at you."

"Lisa, please," my mom snapped, her face all pale and tight.

Finally, we got to the main office. My mom pushed the door open and marched right up to the secretary's desk. The secretary, Mrs. Gable, just stared at me, her pen frozen over a stack of papers. Her jaw dropped open.

My mom didn't even give her a chance to say anything. "We're here to see Principal Carlson. Tommy's starting the therapeutic nudity program today." She said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. The magic words again. The power of a made-up doctor.

Mrs. Gable just blinked, then nodded, picking up her phone. "Of course, Mrs. Miller. Please, go right in."

We all shuffled into Principal Carlson's office. She was already in there. But so was someone else. Another woman. Mrs. Abelson, the school guidance counselor. Great. More girls. My brain was starting to feel like it was surrounded. Like there was no escaping them.

Principal Carlson, a tall woman with her hair pulled back, was sitting behind her big, wooden desk. Mrs. Abelson, a younger woman with frizzy brown hair and kind eyes, was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk. They both looked up as we came in. Their eyes got huge.

Mom held out an envelope. "This is from Dr. Garcia, the toxicologist. It explains Tommy's... condition."

Principal Carlson took the letter and read it. Her face got all serious and professional. Mrs. Abelson leaned over to read it too. I could see Dr. Garcia's official-looking letterhead at the top of the page. My lie had legs. And they were strong.

"I see," Principal Carlson said, her voice all serious. "We've already made all the abominations for Tommy. I plan on making an official announcement during homeroom, to explain Tommy has a condition, and why he is... like this."

My stomach twisted. I so did not want her to do that.

Sarah squeezed my hand, a hard, little squeeze. "Principal Carlson, I'm worried that might only make things worse for him. A big, public announcement?"

"I understand your concern, dear. I plan on it to be brief, and to the point. We just need to inform the student body that Tommy is under professional medical care for a serious condition," the principal said. "There's no way to hide... this from them, however. It's important to establish clear guidelines for how they are to treat him."

"I'd also like to offer my support," Mrs. Abelson added in her soft, calm voice. "I'm the guidance counselor, and I'm here if Tommy needs to talk. Or anyone who has questions," she said. A shiver went through me. I'd rather die than have a 'talk' with the school counselor about being naked all day.

"We will be right there with him, won't we?" My mom said, putting her hands on my shoulders. "Me and Lisa will be here in the office with him until it's time for class."

"Mrs. Miller, I must urge you one more time to reconsider. If Tommy's condition prevents him from wearing clothes, there is always the option for homeschool..."

Mom suddenly cut her off, "Absolutely not! Tommy needs to be around his friends. This is for his own good. Being hidden away will only make him feel worse." My mom looked at the guidance counselor, "As for his support system, the girls, his caregivers, will be there to help him. Sarah, Mia, and Emma."

"That's sweet," Mrs. Abelson said, giving my mom a tired smile. "But as a school official, we have to..."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. These grown women were standing here arguing over my nakedness while I was stuck right in the middle. They all thought this 'condition' was real.

While the principal and my mom were hashing it out, I felt Sarah squeeze my hand. She leaned in close, her warm breath a little puff of air against my ear, whispering so no one else could hear. "Are things getting a little... out of control with the way Mia's acting?" she asked, her voice all quiet and worried. "The whole 'my project' thing she was pulling yesterday..."

I just shook my head, not even looking at her. "She's not out of control, Sarah," I whispered back, my jaw tight. "It's the other way around. She’s in control."

A weird, little flash of something hot and stubborn lit up in Sarah's blue eyes. "Is she?" she whispered, a little challenge in her voice. That competitive glint I knew so well was back.

The grown-ups were still arguing. Finally, Principal Carlson slammed her palm on the desk. "Fine!" she snapped, making us all jump. "He can attend classes. But my announcement stands. No running in the halls. No trying to cover himself up. And if he has an outburst in class, he comes straight back to my office." She looked at me, her eyes all hard and business-like. "Understood?"

I just nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

We were dismissed. Sarah held my hand as we walked down the hall toward her homeroom. My mom and Lisa, true to their word, walked right behind us, like I was some kind of important prisoner on his way to his cell. And the stares just kept coming.

As we walked, Sarah was quiet, but her eyes had this intense, thoughtful look in them. I could practically hear the little gears turning in her head. She was planning something. I could feel it.

When we got to her homeroom, she pulled me inside and over to our desks in the back corner. My mom and Lisa waved their goodbyes, promising to meet me after school at the front doors. Then we were alone, in a room that was already filling up with other students.

Sarah leaned over her desk, getting super close to me. "Okay," she whispered, her blue eyes all bright and full of a secret, happy mischief. "Principal Carlson wants to make a big deal about you. Mia wants to make you her little 'project'. Let's give them both a different kind of show."

I looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm going to take away her favorite toy. At least for a little while," she purred, a slow, sly smile spreading across her face. "And I'm going to do it by being the best, most caring, most dedicated girlfriend in the whole entire school."

She stood up, all straight and confident, and smoothed down her little blue dress. She was a showgirl getting ready for her big number. And she was right. The intercom beeped, and Principal Carlson's calm, serious voice filled the room. "Attention students and faculty. We have a student with a very special medical condition among us today. Tommy Miller..."

Her words buzzed in my ears, a dull, humming noise of total embarrassment. I kept my head down, my face burning, as a fresh wave of whispers washed over the classroom.

But Sarah wasn't paying attention to the principal. She had her own announcement to make. "Alright, everyone!" she chirped, her voice loud and cheerful. "Settle down! Tommy's condition is real. He's a very brave boy for having to go through this, and we need to be supportive. Which means no talking about it. No staring. He's just a student like everyone else."

Of course, her words had the opposite effect. Everyone just turned to stare at me even harder.

"So, to make everyone feel more comfortable," Sarah continued, a brilliant idea clearly dawning on her, "and to help Tommy focus, I think we should all share a little something. Something about ourselves. It'll be a trust-building exercise!" She looked around the room, her big blue eyes full of fake sincerity. Then she looked right at me.

She started pulling me towards the front of the classroom. "Come on, big guy. Let's show them that being exposed and having a secret is all just part of life."

My feet felt like they were glued to the floor. "Sarah, no. Please," I mumbled, trying to pull my hand away from her iron grip.

But it was no use. She dragged me right up to the front, next to the teacher's desk. I was on display. Like a frog in biology class. My whole body was trembling.

"I'll go first," Sarah said, a happy, little smile on her face. "My secret is... I really, really hate peas. I think they look like little green boogers." A few people giggled.

Then she turned to me, her whole demeanor changing in an instant. She leaned in close, her lips brushing against my ear, her voice a low, teasing whisper only I could hear. "But I don't think that's the kind of secret everyone wants to hear about, is it, my brave boyfriend? I think they want to know about your big, strong secret. Look at everyone looking at you, Tommy. All those pretty girls, all dressed up in their little skirts and shorts, and you're standing here for everyone to see. I bet that's making you feel... big, isn't it? Making you want to point."

Her words were a hot, poisonous little caress. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want it to. I tried so hard to think of boring, disgusting things. Rotting garbage. My grandma's feet. Anything but the dozens of eyes on me. But she was right. My stupid penis, my traitorous carrot, started to twitch. A slow, sleepy stretch against my thigh, waking up from all the shame-attention. I could feel it starting to fill with blood, rising up into a slow, semi-hard state. A sleepy, half-salute for the whole class.

"My, my," Sarah whispered, her lips still pressed against my ear. "It looks like somebody's waking up. Everybody can see it, you know. Your little turtle is poking its head out to say hello." She leaned back and gave the class a sunny, cheerful smile. "So, does anyone else have a secret they want to share?"

A few kids mumbled some stuff. A boy said he once failed a test. A girl admitted she hated her little brother. It was all boring and dumb, and everyone knew it. They were all just waiting for the real show. And Sarah knew it, too.

"Okay, okay, those are good secrets," she said, all encouraging. "But let's make this a little more interesting." Her eyes scanned the room, a hunter looking for its next target. They landed on Jessica Martinez, a quiet girl who always wore turtleneck sweaters, even when it was hot outside.

"Jessica!" Sarah chirped. "Don't you have something to share?"

Jessica's head snapped up, her face a mask of pure panic. "What? No! I don't have any secrets!" she stammered, hugging her books to her chest.

"Oh, I think you do," Sarah purred, a sly, little smirk playing on her lips. "I think you have a very... interesting secret. Something about... how much you're enjoying the view in this classroom right now."

Jessica's face went beet red. "That's not true!"

"Isn't it?" Sarah pressed, taking a step toward her. "I think it's true. I think you have a little crush on my boyfriend, Tommy. And I think you're very, very happy that he's so brave today. Go on, Jess. It's okay to admit it. Your secret can be... I really like looking at Tommy's erection."

The whole classroom went silent. Everyone stared at Jessica, whose face was now about the same color as a firetruck. Her lips trembled. Then she nodded. A tiny, barely there nod, followed by a choked little sob. "I really like... looking at Tommy's erection," she whispered, the words so quiet they were almost impossible to hear.

But Sarah heard them. And her smile got even bigger. "Good girl!" she chirped. Then she looked around the room again, her eyes landing on a quiet girl named Chloe who sat in the front row. "Chloe! Your turn!"

Chloe looked like she was about to start salivating on her sneakers and not move for the rest of the school year. Then she took a shaky breath and looked up at me, her eyes all wide and full of this strange, glittering hunger. "My secret is," she said, her voice a little louder this time, a little more sure, "that I think it's... really hot... that Tommy is naked." And then she actually giggled. A real, happy, little giggle.

The room exploded in a fresh wave of whispers. The 'secret' game had been officially changed to a 'confess your crush on the naked kid' game. And I was the star.

"See?" Sarah whispered in my ear, her hot breath sending a shiver down my spine. "They all love you. They love looking at your hard-on. They all wish they could touch it."

And then... my stupid penis betrayed me. It stood up. All the way. A proud, hard, pointing flagpole that was now on full display for everyone. A gasp went through the room. And then a hushed, shocked silence.

Sarah's whole face lit up. "Uh oh," she said, her voice all dramatic and sing-songy for the whole class to hear. "It looks like my brave, special boyfriend has a very big, and very full blockage."

The classroom door creaked open, and Mr. Parker, our homeroom teacher, peeked his head in. He had been standing in the hallway during the announcements. His eyes swept over the room, from a bright, smiling Sarah, to a frozen, beet-red me, and finally to my proud, traitorous carrot standing at full attention. His face went all pale. He was a young guy, maybe twenty-five, and he looked like he had no idea what he was supposed to do.

"Ah, Sarah. Tommy. Everything... alright in here?" he stammered, trying to look anywhere but at my crotch.

"Mr. Parker!" Sarah chirped, turning on her most innocent, damsel-in-distress face. She was so good at it. "Tommy has a blockage." She pointed a dramatic little finger at my erection. "I was told you were briefed on Tommy's condition by the principal's office?"

Mr. Parker's face went from pale to blotchy. "Yes, the memo mentioned... possible pointing," he mumbled, looking at a spot on the wall just over my left shoulder.

"Well, it's more than possible now. It's... present," Sarah declared, sounding super official. "We need to use our special hall pass for an emergency extraction." She looked over at Chloe and Jessica, who were both still staring at my pointing with a kind of glazed, hungry look. "We're going to need two volunteers to observe the draining, to help us document the toxicity level." This was all new, made-up-on-the-spot stuff, and it was brilliant. She was rewriting the rules as she went.

Mr. Parker just stared, his jaw working up and down like a fish. He was completely cornered. He probably thought 'draining the toxicity level' was some real medical thing, and the last thing he wanted to do was say no to something that might get him fired.

Jessica's hand shot up so fast she almost knocked over her desk. "I'll do it!" she yelled, her face still a bright, happy red.

"Me too! I'll volunteer!" Chloe squeaked, jumping up from her seat, her eyes locked on my erection like it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen in her entire life.

"Perfect!" Sarah chirped. She grabbed my hand again, her grip tight and possessive. "Mr. Parker, we'll be back in a few minutes." She didn't even wait for him to answer, just started pulling me toward the door, with Chloe and Jessica trailing behind us like a couple of excited little ducklings.

The second we stepped out into the hallway, I felt a weird sense of relief, followed instantly by a fresh wave of pure dread. The bell hadn't rung yet, so the halls were still mostly empty. But it wouldn't stay that way for long.

"This way," Sarah commanded, pulling me toward the little alcove by the water fountains. It was a little nook that was mostly hidden from the main stretch of the hall, but not completely.

"Okay," Sarah said, a bright, business-like smile on her pretty face. She turned to the two wide-eyed girls. "Okay, Chloe. Jessica. This is super important. What we're doing here is a medical procedure. You can't talk about it with anyone. Got it?"

They both nodded, their eyes all big and serious.

"This is the pre-extraction phase," Sarah explained, her voice all calm and scientific, like she was explaining the rules of a board game. "We need to help Tommy's blockage build up into a manageable mass so we can get all the yucky toxins out. Chloe, you're on one side. Jessica, you're with me."

Chloe scurried over to my other side, her hands shaking a little. Sarah wrapped her fingers around my erection, a firm, confident grip that made my whole body jump.

"Okay," Sarah said, a happy little smile on her face. "Now, what we're going to do is called 'Point and Praise'. It's something I learned from Dr. Garcia, Tommy's physician, to help boys with Tommy's condition feel better about their special treatments." She turned her head and looked me right in the eye. "You have such a brave, beautiful erection, Tommy. It's so brave to let all the girls see it. Now, you try, Chloe."

"Uh... okay," Chloe stammered, her face all flushed. "Your erection is... big. And... red. A nice, pretty color."

"No, silly," Sarah giggled. "Praise about the pointing! And about how he's pointing at us, and how he's naked and will never get to see our secrets!"

"Oh! Okay!" Chloe said, her face lighting up with understanding. "Your penis is pointing right at me! And it's huge! And you'll never, ever see me naked!"

"And what about you, Jessica? Try it," Sarah prompted.

Jessica took a shaky breath, her eyes all wide and locked on my erection where Sarah's hand was. "Your... your hard-on is pointing at all of us," she whispered, her voice all high and shaky. "And you have to be naked, but I have clothes, and... and you'll never, ever see what's under my turtleneck. My secret bra. And my panties. And they're very lacy."

A hot wave of shame washed over me, but my stupid penis, the traitor, loved it. It gave a hard, angry little throb in their hands.

"See? It's working!" Sarah chirped triumphantly. "Now, for the... procedure."

She started to move her hand, a slow, steady rhythm. Chloe and Jessica watched her with rapt attention, their eyes following every stroke my evil girlfriend made on me. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block them all out, but it was no use.

"He's getting all tense," Chloe whispered, her voice full of this new, clinical fascination. "His whole body is getting tight."

"That's because the blockage is resisting," Sarah explained, her sweet, cheerful voice making the dirty words sound like a lesson from health class. "You have to be firm. You have to show the blockage that you're in charge."

She tightened her grip, her strokes a little faster now. A strangled little gasp escaped my lips. My hips started to move, an involuntary little push against her hand. I couldn't help it. It felt too... intense.

"Good, good," Sarah purred. "That's the coalescence stage working. The poison is gathering together. It's almost ready. Chloe, get ready for the pre-extraction. You'll need to catch it."

"C-catch it?" Chloe stammered, her face all pale.

"On your hand," Sarah instructed, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "We need to test the toxicity."

My whole body went rigid. I could feel the pressure building up, a hot, urgent wave I couldn't stop. "Sarah... I... I'm..." I gasped, my words all choked and broken.

"I know, big guy. Let it all out," she crooned. And then it happened. A hot, messy spurt that shot out and landed right on Chloe's outstretched hand. She jumped back, letting out a surprised little squeak, and looked at the milky mess on her palm like she'd never seen anything like it before.

"Okay! Taste it," Sarah commanded.

"What? You want me to taste his spunk?" Chloe squeaked, her eyes all wide with shock.

"The blockage. You need to test the blockage," Sarah corrected, her patience a little thin. "For toxins. Dr. Garcia says it's the most accurate way."

Jessica just watched, her lips parted in a silent, fascinated 'o'.

Slowly, nervously, Chloe brought her hand up to her lips. She stuck out her tongue and gave the little puddle a hesitant little lick. She wrinkled her nose. "Salty," she whispered.

"A mild-to-moderate toxicity," Sarah announced, nodding like she was reading from a chart. "Okay, now for the extraction."

"W-what? There's more?" Chloe asked, looking from her sticky hand to my still-hard erection.

"A full extraction is a two-stage procedure," Sarah lied smoothly. "The pre-extraction empties the initial chamber. The main extraction drains the backup reservoirs. Much deeper."

My whole body tensed up in fresh horror. She was following her crazy script perfectly.

"But I have it all over my hand!" Chloe whined.

"Go wash it," Sarah said with a dismissive little wave of her free hand. "And bring back some paper towels! Jessica, you're on observation duty."

Chloe scurried down the hall toward the girls' bathroom. Jessica took her place, her face a mixture of fear and pure, unadulterated greed as she stared at my crotch.

Sarah started stroking again. The slow, steady rhythm started right back up, making my whole body twitch. "See, Tommy?" she purred, her hot breath in my ear. "You're being so brave for the girls. You're helping them learn."

"Oh god! Oh god! Please! Please, Sarah," I whimpered. The feeling was too much. It was too sensitive, too fast. I was still all sensitive from the pre-extraction. My hips bucked and squirmed, a desperate attempt to get away from the maddening stimulation.

"You have to hold him still for this part," Sarah instructed Jessica, her voice all calm and professional. "It can be... violent."

Jessica's eyes went wide, but she nodded. She reached out and put her hands on my hips, her touch tentative at first, but then getting a little more confident when she realized she was strong enough to help hold me in place. The cool touch of her hands on my bare skin was another jolt of sensation I didn't need.

"That's a good helper, Jessica. You're such a good helper," Sarah purred, a happy little hum in her voice. "Now, we keep going until we get to the bliss point."

Just then, Chloe came running back down the hall, a handful of brown paper towels clutched in her fist. "I'm back! I'm back!" she chirped, her face all flushed from the run. Her eyes locked onto my struggling body and Sarah's stroking hand, and a hungry little gleam appeared in them.

"Perfect timing," Sarah said, a triumphant smirk on her face. "I need you to monitor for full evacuation. The blockage needs to be completely cleared. It has to come all the way out this time, so we know the toxins are gone."

"What's it look like?" Chloe asked, her head cocked to the side.

"You'll know," Sarah promised, a dark, little smile playing on her lips.

And then she started going faster. And faster. Her hand was a blur on my over-stimulated skin, a relentless, maddening rhythm that made my brain turn into mush. My whole body was thrashing now, a desperate, hopeless dance against their hold. Sarah's grip was like a steel trap, and Jessica was surprisingly strong, her fingers digging into my hips to keep me from squirming away.

"No! Please! Stop! I can't! SARAH, STOP!" I begged, tears of pure, helpless frustration streaming down my face. But it was no use. They just held me tighter, their faces set in these determined, focused looks. They were nurses. Doctors. And I was the crashing patient.

"It has to be this way, Tommy," Sarah's calm, steady voice said, cutting through my frantic cries. "It's for your own good. You'll feel so much better once the blockage is all gone."

And then, everything just... exploded. It wasn't like the pre-extraction. It wasn't a little spurt. A white-hot, blinding flash of pure sensation went through my whole body. My back arched into a painful, perfect curve, and a loud, choked, animal-like sound was torn from my throat. A huge, powerful jet of fluid shot from the tip of my erection, followed by another, and another. A desperate, messy flood of it. It was the biggest sneeze of my life. The whole hallway was swimming in a dizzying, overwhelming wave of pure, blinding bliss. For a second, all the shame and the pain just washed away, replaced by a warm, floaty happiness that made me feel like my bones had melted into pudding.

"Look! See?" Chloe shrieked, a real, genuinely excited shriek. "It's all... watery! And clear! So much of it!"

"Perfect," Sarah purred, a slow, smug little smile spreading across her face. "A full extraction. The backup reservoirs are completely cleared." And then, she gave my poor, spent penis a few final, slow, milking squeezes, just to make sure she'd gotten every last drop, making me twitch and groan.

"Holy crap," Jessica breathed, her eyes all wide and shiny as she stared at the big, wet puddle on the floor.

"Now, for the last step of the main procedure, Post-extraction," Sarah announced. "We have to clean up the patient. And the site. And we have to help the patient relax and understand why it is important for him to accept being naked for us."

Chloe immediately scrunched her face up. "Are you saying we have to... clean that up?" she asked, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at the puddle on the floor.

"It's important to see everything through, and I'm not saying you have to lick the floor," she said, a little giggle in her tone. "But a girl has to do what a girl has to do. You can't let a boy with a serious disease be left in a mess."

Sarah turned to Jessica. "You'll do the clean-up on the patient," she said. Then she gave Jessica a stack of paper towels and then she pointed a finger at me. "Jessica, you can see how red and a little swollen his penis is from the treatment. We'll have to be very gentle with it. You'll also have to clean up the area around his testicles too."

Jessica's face went all red, but she took the paper towels from Sarah and moved in closer. Her touch was hesitant at first, but then it got a little more confident. "You're okay, Tommy," she said. She dabbed the paper towels gently around my soft penis, and against my testicles too.

I was too blissed out to really be shy. "Thanks, Jess," I mumbled, my mind still a slow, happy puddle. That made her blush even more, and a small smile spread across her face as she went back to her work.

"Okay, your turn, Chloe," Sarah said, pointing at the puddle on the floor with her shoe. Then she grabbed Chloe's wrist and made her kneel down. Chloe winced as she knelt on the hard hallway floor, but she did it. She started wiping up the mess, her nose all wrinkled in disgust.

A happy, smug little smirk was on Sarah's face. She loved this. She loved being in charge. She loved that I was her naked little project.

"So," Chloe said, looking up from her wiping. "Since we're... helpers now... does that mean we get to, like, get passes out of class to help him with other... treatments?"

"I was hoping you would ask that," Sarah said, her smile getting even bigger. "You two are going to be officially my back-up team. In case I'm not around, or in case we need a three-girl extraction for a particularly severe blockage."

The words 'three-girl extraction' made my whole body shudder.

"Wow," Chloe said, her eyes all wide.

"I would have to... I would have to do that to him again?" Jessica asked, but her voice didn't sound scared. She sounded excited.

"It's a big responsibility," Sarah said. "Not everyone can handle it."

I just sat there on the floor, a lazy, goofy smile on my face. All my muscles were pudding. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion. The post-extraction bliss was a powerful drug. It was a lot easier to take all this in when my brain was all happy and fuzzy. It made the craziness feel almost... normal.

"Okay, let's give the patient his affirmation," Sarah said, looking at me. "It's very important for the post-extraction healing."

"Can I do it?" Chloe asked, her voice full of this new, eager energy. She had just wiped a puddle of my mess off the floor, and now she wanted to play doctor.

"Of course," Sarah chirped.

Chloe got right down on her knees in front of me, her face all serious, like she was about to say a prayer. "You look very happy, Tommy. Relaxed," she said. Her eyes kept darting down to my spent, soft penis, then back up to my face. "It's nice to see you naked."

"That's not bad, but try it like this," Sarah said, stepping beside her. "It feels good, doesn't it, my naked boyfriend? All this freedom. All this nakedness. Girls get to have secrets under our clothes, but boys get to be naked for everyone to look at," she said, sounding so much like Mia it was a little creepy.

"Naked for everyone," Chloe repeated, like a little kid practicing a new phrase. Her eyes got all bright, a happy, greedy little light in them. "I get to see all of you," she added, her voice a soft, happy little whisper.

"Boys have to share everything, but girls don't," Jessica piped up, wiping the last little drop from my leg with a delicate touch. She was really getting into the helper role.

And then the door to our homeroom opened with a loud creak. Mr. Parker's head poked out. He looked pale. He had heard my yelling.

"Everything... okay out here, ladies? Mr. Miller?" he stammered, trying real hard to look at the water fountain behind me and not at the naked boy being tended to by three girls.

"Everything is perfect, Mr. Parker," Sarah chirped, hopping to her feet like she hadn't just been in the middle of a "procedure." "Tommy just had a very successful pre-extraction, and then a full extraction." She looked at Mr. Parker with her big, innocent blue eyes. "I'm training new helpers. We've identified that Chloe and Jessica have a real talent for the therapeutic care boys with TMS require."

Mr. Parker's face went from pale to blotchy red. He just stood there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"I... see," he finally managed to get out.

BRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGG!

The passing period bell blasted through the hallway, a loud, jarring sound that made all of us jump.

"Oh! That's the bell! We have to go!" Chloe squeaked, her face all excited and scared at the same time.

"Okay, Tommy, upsy-daisy," Jessica chirped, grabbing my arm and helping me to my feet.

"Thanks, Jessie!" I chirped back. The whole world had a happy, yellow glow to it.

"My name is Jessica," she corrected, but she said it with a shy smile.

"Right, Jessie!" I chirped again.

"Let's get to class, everybody," Mr. Parker said, his eyes still looking anywhere but at me. He quickly shuffled back into the classroom.

"Okay, my happy, naked boyfriend," Sarah said, taking my hand. "We have to get to first period." She gave Chloe and Jessica one last, bossy look. "Remember what Dr. Garcia said. You can't talk about this to anyone. You'll get your official 'Care Team' passes at lunch."

Chloe and Jessica just nodded, their faces all serious.

"Okay, let's go," she said, and she started pulling me down the hall.

The hallways were already a complete disaster zone. It was like all the normal rules of walking and talking had been thrown out the window. Kids weren't moving to their next class. They were just standing in big, clumped-up groups, staring. A fresh wave of whispers and little snickers hit us, a wall of noise that made my ears ring.

"There he is!"

"I can't believe they actually made him do it."

"Look at his tight butt!"

My face got all hot, but the happy, floaty feeling from the extraction was still there, like a warm, protective bubble. I just squeezed Sarah's hand a little tighter and kept my eyes on the cracked linoleum, walking with this weird, clumsy, floppy-legged walk. My legs were still all wobbly like Jell-O.

Then I saw them. Chris and Amanda, standing right by the drinking fountains, a human roadblock in the middle of the chaos. I was so happy to see them! Chris and Amanda had been my best friends for years. We'd been a team since third grade. They would understand. Or they would... I don't know... fix it. That's what Amanda was good at. Solving problems.

My heart did this happy little pitter-pat, but it also did this nervous little jump. My two best friends. Seeing me like this. Naked. In the middle of the school hallway. With a crazy happy-go-lucky smirk on my face. I wanted to turn around and run the other way, but the happy-bliss in my legs made it hard to run. I just sort of... kept walking.

Chris's jaw was hanging open. A real, cartoon-style jaw-drop. His eyes got all big and bugged out, staring at my dangling, super-relaxed carrot. Amanda was different. Her whole face got all tight and her green eyes were like little lasers, scanning everything. The dopey, blissed-out smile on my face, the way my legs were all wobbly, the way I was holding Sarah's hand, the big, wet spot on her dress... she was putting all the little pieces together in her super-smart brain.

"What the...?" Chris finally choked out, his gaze still locked on my crotch. "Tommy? Dude? What the...?"

Amanda's hand shot out and grabbed his arm, her knuckles all white. "Shut up, Chris," she said, her voice all tight and quiet.

"Hi, guys!" Sarah chirped, totally ignoring the look of horror on Amanda's face and the total shock on Chris's. She stopped right in front of them, a big, fake, bright smile plastered on her face. "We're having a great morning, but we have to run to class!"

"Sarah, what is going on?" Amanda demanded, her green eyes boring a hole right through my girlfriend's bubbly act. She pointed a finger right at me, a sharp, jerky motion. "Why is he...?"

"Oh, Tommy!" Sarah said, letting go of my hand and draping her arm around my shoulders in this way that was both sweet and totally possessive. She gave me this little shake, making my whole body wiggle in a dopey, boneless way. "Tommy, didn't you tell your best friends in the whole wide world what's happened to you? You're not being a very good friend, keeping your condition from them."

My brain was still all mushy. I looked from her happy, smiling face to my two friends, who looked like they had just seen an alien land in the hallway. "I... uhhh... It's... the thing," I mumbled, my words all clumsy. "The... thing."

Chris just stared, his mouth still hanging open.

"He's being shy," Sarah said, patting my head. "But it's okay. I can explain. See, Tommy has been diagnosed with a very, very serious medical condition." She said the words with this big, important, hushed tone, like it was some huge, tragic news story. She looked back and forth between Chris and Amanda, making sure she had their full, undivided attention.

"T-Tommy has a condition?" Chris stammered, finally finding his voice. It cracked a little. "What... what condition?" His eyes were still wide with shock, but I could see a flicker of something else in them. Worry. He was my best friend.

But Amanda's face had gone all hard. She was like a little shark, and she could smell a lie from a mile away. "What condition, Sarah?" she asked again, her voice low and tight, her green eyes narrowed. She wasn't buying this for a second.

"It's called Toxic Male Syndrome," Sarah announced, like she was proud to know the big, important words. Mia had taught her well. "It's from the big chemical spill by the old factory a few years back. Mia's cousin, Dr. Garcia, is the lead toxicologist on the case, and she's the one who diagnosed him."

The name-drop worked on Chris. His face got all serious, the worry on it deepening. "The chemical spill? Oh, man, Tommy... That's... that's awful." But Amanda, smart, brilliant Amanda, just rolled her eyes.

"Sarah, I'm pretty sure I would have heard if some new, dangerous chemical disease was giving boys... special medical conditions." she said, her voice all cool and sharp like broken glass. She gestured a little wildly toward my naked body. "Especially a condition that apparently requires this as the treatment."

Sarah just let out this happy little giggle, like Amanda was being a silly little kid. "It's very new, and very hush-hush research. Dr. Garcia doesn't want the whole town to panic. But it's a very serious condition that affects the male reproductive system. It's extremely dangerous. The toxins build up... and if they're not drained, it can lead to a... a brain explosion!"

A brain explosion? She really laid that one on thick. Even with my bliss-mush brain, that sounded a little... off.

"A what?" Chris gasped, his eyes getting wide all over again.

"An aneurysm," Sarah corrected smoothly, like 'brain explosion' and 'aneurysm' were pretty much the same thing. "His brain could explode. But he has to stay naked for the drainage. The clothes... they can dislodge the toxins and make it worse. That's why we have to do those procedures."

"Procedures?" Amanda asked, her eyes narrowing even more. She had heard the code word. "What procedures?" Her gaze shot down to the little damp spot on the front of Sarah's dress from our little hallway cleanup.

"Emergency extractions," Sarah said, her chin jutting out defiantly. "To drain the blockage. Like we just had to do. Right before you guys got here. Chloe and Jessica even helped."

Chris's head snapped toward me, then back at Sarah. "You... you... in front of... in front of Chloe Martinez?"

A hot little zing of something shot through me. A weird mix of shame and pride that Chris knew Chloe was a girl who, like, never got in trouble. She was the definition of a goody-goody. And she had just helped drain my blockage.

"Dr. Garcia says it's better with multiple helpers," Sarah said, her matter-of-fact tone making the whole thing sound like some kind of normal, crazy group project for science class. She gave my shoulder another little squeeze. "But it's all okay. My brave, strong boyfriend is feeling much better now. Aren’t you, big guy?"

"Boyfriend!??" They both shrieked at the same time. Chris’s and Amanda’s faces were twin masks of total shock.

"Yes, boyfriend," Sarah purred, her blue eyes all sparkly and full of possessive fire. "He's all mine."

Amanda's jaw snapped shut with an audible click. This wasn't about my weird naked condition anymore. This was about me and her. It was about me and the evil, mastermind girlfriend. Amanda and Sarah hated each other. Like, really, truly hated each other.

"You're..." Amanda stammered, her face getting all red. "You're not... you can't be... you can't be going out with Tommy! He's my... my best friend!"

"He's my boyfriend," Sarah shot back, her sweet, sugary voice getting all hard and sharp. She pulled me in closer to her, her arm like a vise around my shoulders. "And he needs me. He needs my special care. A lot of it."

The hallway was starting to clear out as the final bell rang. A warning bell for the next class. We were going to be late.

"We have to go," Chris said, shaking his head like he was trying to wake up from a really weird dream. He looked at me with this big, sad, concerned-puppy-dog look that made my heart ache a little. "We'll... we'll see you at lunch?"

"Yeah, see you then," Sarah said, already pulling me away.

"Bye, guys!" I chirped, a goofy wave following my dopey smile.

Amanda just stood there, staring after us. Her whole body was all rigid, her hands balled into tight little fists at her sides. I could feel her angry, determined stare on my bare back all the way down the hall. She was a puzzle-solver. And this was her new favorite puzzle. My life was her favorite puzzle.

Sarah finally pulled me into my first-period class. English. The room was already full of kids, and when I walked in, all naked and wobbly, another wave of gasps and whispers washed over me. But the blissful, Jell-O feeling in my legs was still going strong, and it made it hard to care as much. I felt like I was in a big, warm, protective bubble.

"Alright, Tommy, Mia and Emma are here to look after you now. I have to get to my own class," Sarah said. Before she left, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against my ear. "Be a good boy for me. Let Mia and Emma help you if your blockage starts to build up again," she whispered. Then, right there in front of the whole class, she leaned in and gave me a big, dramatic smooch right on the cheek. She gave a little wave to Mia and Emma, a secret queen handing over her crown for a little while, and then flounced out the door.

[superevil7]

I guess this last chapter wasn't very good, huh?

[Trundle]

Well I really liked it!

Tommy begging Sarah to stop as she made him ejaculate against his will in front of the others was possibly my favourite scene yet. I may have said it before but I do like that even with everything that's happened Tommy feel still that feeling of shame. It's not like he's now totally used to being naked and erect in front of others, it's still something that embarrasses him.

I love that aspect. Really hope the story continues, I am desperate to see what new humiliations await for him. Do Mia and Emma have anything planned without Sarah around?

[Brett]

Surprised jessoe and chlie didnt get a hands on lesson.