Chapter 2: A Mortifying Show-and-Tell
Ushered to the Car in My Underpants
The next morning I wake up, and the guys are putting their clothes on. “Let’s go, Blondie,” Bruce says. “Tammy’s taking us all to the grocery store to buy some food for breakfast.”
I look around hopefully, but my clothes are still missing. “Where are my clothes?” I ask Bruce.
“Don’t worry about it, you look just fine as you are,” replied Bruce.
“But I can’t go outside like this!”
“Ah, but you can, Blondie boy... well, actually you don’t have to if you don’t want to. In fact, you have a choice. Either you come out willingly dressed as you are, or you can refuse, in which case we’ll yank off your underpants and drag you out there bare-assed.” Everyone laughs at the prospect. Tammy and Donna are standing at the doorway of the room with their coats on, grinning widely. I suddenly realize that I could well be on my way to a living nightmare.
“So it’s your call, Blondie,” continues Bruce. “Are you coming with us in your underpants are or are you coming with us nude?”
“I hope Blondie keeps this up,” Donna offers. “I want to see him naked.”
In the midst of the giggling, I muster the nerve to climb out of bed, realizing I have no choice but to go along with their scheme—or risk even greater humiliation. All eyes are on me, every face grinning as I shuffle toward the door. It is a very naked feeling as I walk down the stairs in the middle of the pack, clad only in my underpants while everyone else is fully dressed, coats and all.
The walk from the front door to the car is dreadful, as the cold air sends shivers up and down my near-naked body. Laughter follows me as I’m herded into the back seat of Tammy’s parents’ old station wagon, wedged between Bruce and one of the other guys. Tammy is driving and Donna is in the passenger seat. As we pull away, my mind races—I can’t believe I’m actually on the road in this state of undress.
It is a fifteen-minute drive to the store, but it seems much longer. Donna frequently turns around to look at me, smiling wickedly. “Are you sure you don’t want to take off your undies, Blondie?” she teases during one of her many glimpses back at me. “I’d really love to see you sitting there naked—totally nude, all embarrassed and squirming around."
She is grinning at me while I blush profusely. I see Tammy catching quick looks at me in her rearview mirror. It is obvious that both girls are fully enjoying my humiliation. Bruce teases me mercilessly, and twice he runs his hand up and down my bare thigh. I want to just die on the spot.
The Teenyboppers
When we reach our destination, Tammy finds a parking spot right in front of the store. She rolls down all the electric windows before taking the keys out of the ignition and putting them in her purse. I have goose bumps all over my body from the chilly air.
“We don’t want you to get too hot,” she says to me with a smile while they all pile out of the car.
“If you do, you can always just take your underpants off,” Donna teases as she exits the car. Everyone laughs heartily.
“Sit up straight, Blondie,” cautions Bruce. “And don’t even think about ducking down behind the seat. I’ll be able to see you from the store, and if I don’t see your head right where it is then I’m coming back out here and bringing you back in with me.”
The car doors slam shut, their laughter trailing off as they head toward the store. A few of them turn back and look at me as they enter the store. I am absolutely miserable. Here I am in a cold car stripped to my underpants, and am really dreading whatever might be in store for me when my “friends” return.
Then, to my horror, another car slides into the space beside ours. The driver—an attractive woman in her mid to late twenties—steps out and lets her door lightly tap the station wagon. It is all I can do to keep from ducking down, but I know Bruce has already checked on me from the store window more than once. I am breathing heavily. Though I’m almost sure she will spot me, miraculously she doesn’t. When she closes her door and walks toward the store, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. I am trembling. Despite the cold, I feel the perspiration under my arms, and beads of sweat have formed at the top of my forehead.
I barely have a chance to recover from the scare when there is cause for even greater concern. Three girls—twelve or thirteen at most—emerge from the store, walking slowly, giggling, and they’re headed in my direction! My body tenses, and feel like I’m ready to break out into a cold sweat.
There is an open parking space on my immediate left, and it appears they will be using that space as a passageway. I seriously consider ducking to the floor of the car, but when I glance toward the store window, I catch Bruce’s grinning face, watching everything.
The girls are now approaching the front of the car. I don’t know how they could possibly overlook me. But still, I cling to the desperate hope that they might. “Oh, God, please,” I whisper out loud.
They are walking next to the car now, engaged in conversation one would expect from young teenyboppers. “I think Johnny’s a hunk,” one of them says. My pulse jumps. They’re practically at my window. Terrified, I sit as still as a statue, holding my breath so as not to make a sound or move a muscle.
“Yeah,” answers one of her companions. “He’s got the cutest ass, doesn’t he?” They are all giggling. Amazingly, they have passed my window. I’m just about to let out another huge sigh of relief when I hear the fateful words: “Wait a minute... Melody! Heather! You’re not going to believe what I just saw!"
My stomach plummets. I let out my breath and brace myself for a fate that is now almost certain. Sure enough, within seconds the girl is peering in my window. Our eyes lock. For an instant she only stares, her mouth slightly open in disbelief. When she takes in my red-faced, submissive expression she breaks into a delighted grin.
“What? What is it, Wendy?” one of the others calls out.
She motions excitedly for her friends to join her. Within moments, three wide-eyed, laughing girls are crowded at the glass, drinking in the sight of me.
“Oh, my God!” squeals one, bursting into laughter. Once she regains her breath, she asks, simply, “Why are you sitting there in just your underpants?”
I shake my head, mortified, and stammer, “Please... just go away!”
“Oh, I’ll bet his mommy is punishing him,” Wendy speculates with mock seriousness. The others all giggle. “Is that right, is your mommy disciplining you for being a bad little boy? Is she going to take you over her knee, pull down your underpants and give you a spanking on your bare bottom when you get home?”
“No... please, just leave me alone.”
“I think his mommy should’ve made him sit here completely naked,” Wendy adds, smirking.
"Maybe we should make him sit here completely naked," counters one of the other girls, subsequently introduced as Heather.
Their laughter is relentless. I am close to tears, and my anxiety level is climbing off the charts. My knees are clenched together, and my hands are tucked between my thighs, covering the small protrusion in my underpants. I look up and Bruce is still taking in the scene from the store window. He is laughing hysterically.
One of the girls runs around to the other side of the car. I am now being gawked at from both sides. I wish I could crawl through a hole in the floor of the car and never resurface.
“My name’s Heather,” says the girl who is solo at the window. “What’s yours?”
She slips her hand through the window in offer of a handshake. I had no interest in moving my hand from my crotch or shaking her hand. “Please... I don’t want to talk. Just leave me alone.”
She has certainly ascertained that I am in a compromised position, and I am about to discover that she has a mean streak. “We’re not going anywhere, naughty little boy, until you play along. Now—what’s your name?”
“Blondie,” I reply uneasily without looking up. This brings giggles from all.
“Hi, Blondie,” laughs Heather, thrusting her hand in again. Reluctantly, I peel one hand free and shake her hand meekly. She gestures toward her friends.
“This is Wendy, and that’s Melody.” I’m forced to shake hands with them also.
“Please,” I beg, my voice cracking. “I’m begging you—just go away.”
Heather tilts her head. “Hmm, I’ll tell you what—we’ll go away and leave you alone. But first... you have to do something for us.”
I don’t answer. I know whatever she has in mind cannot bode well for me. Then, to my horror, she opens the car door and hops in, planting herself right next to me. The other girls follow her lead, and Melody gets in on my other side while Wendy opens the front door and slides into the front seat. She is on her knees facing me in the middle of the bench seat. She is grinning broadly as she looks me up and down.
“We just want to see what you’re sportin’ under there,” says Heather while reaching for my underpants. I grab her wrist to fend her off. Giggling, she says, “All you have to do is pull your underpants down, let us check you out, then we’ll leave you alone.” The interest level among the girls has taken a sudden, dramatic turn upward. I sit there helplessly, blushing crimson.
“No... please don’t make...”
“Make him do it, Heather, make him do it!” Wendy interrupts excitedly.
“See those girls over there, Blondie?” says Heather while pointing to a group of five or six teenage girls standing in front of the nearby drug store. “If you don’t pull down your underpants for us right now and show us your goodies, I’m calling them over here.”
I sit frozen, petrified. Wendy reaches back and honks the horn. The girls in front of the drug store look our way.
"Stop! Okay! I'll do it!"
I really have no choice. The thought of lowering my underpants for these girls is horrifying, but in no way do I want any more witnesses to my humiliating condition. I fight back the tears as I prepare myself for the dirty deed. I place my hands on the waistband of my underpants and take a deep breath. The tension is palpable as the girls look on in gleeful anticipation.
"He's really gonna do it!" shrieks Wendy, who I'm sure is incredulous at the prospect.
I clench my eyes shut, lift up my hips and quickly yank my underpants down to my upper thighs. Just as quickly I yank them back up.
“No, no, no, not good enough!” squeals the giggling Heather. “Pull them down below your knees and keep them there so we can have a good look.”
Again I sit there motionless, temporarily unable to do their bidding.
“Now, bad little boy, or I’m calling them over.”
Wendy makes a motion toward the horn. I know what I have to do. Again I reach for my underpants, and this time I lower them to the tops of my knees. Heather promptly pushes them down to my calves. My hands immediately cover my modesty.
“Move your hands!” shrieks Heather excitedly as she grasps my right arm with both hands. Simultaneously Melody seizes my other arm, and they are pried apart. My knees are clenched together tightly.
"Spread your legs!" commands Heather. "We want a good look!"
When I hesitate, Wendy taps the horn again. I pull my knees apart. Three sets of eyes are focused between my legs as I am momentarily exposed. Melody snaps a picture with her cell phone. Overwhelmed with mortification, I quickly break free from their grasp and cover myself with my hands.
“Blondie, you have visitors!” I hear Tammy hollering.
I look up and see the whole group coming toward the car, with Tammy leading the charge. The three giggling young girls quickly evacuate the car and scamper away, squealing with delight.
“Did you see it? Did you see how tiny it was?” one of them shouts.
“I saw it, and there was no hair!” cries another.
"And I got a picture!" squealed the third.
The sounds of their gleeful laughter resonate in my ears as they disappear from sight. I hurriedly reach down and pull up my underpants, feeling utterly violated by what has just transpired. And knowing that there is a picture out there for others' amusement only adds to my despair.
“Blondie, you little pervert!” taunts Tammy. “You guys missed it,” she tells the rest, “But I think our little friend here was playing ‘show and tell’ while we were gone. Did they get a good look, Blondie?” I stare downward without answering, while everyone gets in the car and we start pulling out of the lot.
“What was he doing?” asks Donna eagerly.
“The little perv had his tighty-whities pulled down!” exclaims Tammy. “He was covering up for dear life, but still...”
As we pull out of the parking lot Donna gets on her knees in the front seat and faces me with a mischievous grin. “So Blondie,” she says. “How ‘bout putting on a little show for us?”
My eyes widen as I brace myself for the inevitable.
