Pantsing and Stripping Forums

You forgot to buy popcorn and throw it at the naked sister in the seat. Everything is better smeared in butter.

Chapter 7: The Naked March

Tommy had been keeping himself thoroughly amused with his humiliations of his sister for the better part of two weeks. The power to stop time had opened up endless possibilities, and Sally had become his favorite toy. He figured he could continue tormenting her indefinitely, but there were other scores still demanding settlement. Besides, Sally would always be around whenever he wanted to keep his powers sharp, or if he simply needed some cheap entertainment to idle away an afternoon.

In fact, he had indulged himself again quite recently, not long after the movie theater incident. He’d been walking past the local drugstore when, through the plate-glass window, he spotted Sally browsing the greeting-card aisle. She was focused on a birthday card, completely unaware that her brother stood outside with the power to turn an ordinary afternoon into something else entirely.

On a lark, he stopped time.

Tommy walked inside and approached his sister. He removed her sweater, folding it neatly before setting it aside. Her jeans followed, then her tennis shoes, then her socks. When he finished, she stood in the middle of the aisle wearing only a provocative, magenta-colored bra and panties.

Then he walked outside and resumed time.

From the sidewalk, Tommy grinned as he watched her eyes go wide and her mouth form a panicked “Oh, fuck!” The greeting card dropped from her fingers as though it had caught fire. She bolted down the aisle, arms flailing, her head swiveling desperately as she searched for her missing clothes.

Fortunately for her, the store was nearly empty. Only two customers witnessed the spectacle, an elderly woman and a teenage boy, both of whom turned to stare at the pretty, red-faced girl running around hysterically in her underwear. The elderly woman planted her hands on her hips, looking on in disapproval. The teenage boy’s jaw hung open in shock, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Sally found salvation at the prescription window, where her clothes hung neatly from hooks behind the counter. The pharmacist stared at her in bug-eyed disbelief as she frantically yanked the garments from the display area. She hurriedly pulled on her sweater and jeans, all too aware of his stare, her face burning with the shame of public exposure.

Tommy had laughed about that one for hours. But, as amusing as these whimsies were, he was ready to move on with some fresh humiliation.

His opportunity arrived during sixth-period study hall in the cafeteria, a perfect venue for what he had planned. The crowd was fairly evenly divided between freshmen, sophomores, and juniors, with the occasional senior drifting in from free periods. Tommy had a game plan.

His eyes scanned the room and landed on Linda and Nancy, seated together near the middle tables. Both girls had played memorable roles in Tommy's humiliation three years ago. The attractive girls were very popular among their junior class, especially among the boys. Linda was a tall, slim, well-proportioned blonde who carried herself with the unconscious arrogance of someone who had always been beautiful. Nancy stood a little shorter, somewhat on the chunky side, but compensated with a pretty face and very large breasts that drew constant male attention. As Tommy looked at her, her breasts currently rested rather prominently on the table as she read her textbook, completely unaware of the danger that lurked nearby.

Tommy nudged his friend, Nick, who was seated beside him. “Remember them?” he asked casually.

“Yeah,” Nick responded, “You owe them, big time.”

Tommy nodded, his eyes never leaving the two girls, who were laughing together over some shared joke. "Yes. And today's their lucky day."

As his gaze continued to roam, he spotted two familiar faces at the next table over. Michael and Danny sat together, engrossed in a card game, apparently uninterested in their studies. Out of all the boys who'd mocked him three years ago, those two had stood out. It was Michael who constantly teased Tommy when he was forced to wear the girls’ school uniform during recess and lunch, and it was Danny who continually taunted Tommy about his small, hairless penis when he was forced to put it on display.

Payback was long overdue.

Tommy stopped time for everybody except Linda, Nancy, and his friend Nick.

"You've been a loyal friend, Nick," said Tommy, turning to face him. "You never joined in back then. You never laughed at me. I thought I'd let you sit back and enjoy the show."

Nick leaned back, grinning widely. "Don't mind if I do," he said, stretching his arms behind his head. "This is going to be epic. What are you planning?"

"You'll see," Tommy promised. "Just watch."

Meanwhile, Linda and Nancy were both blinking in confusion, their minds struggling to process the sudden shift from normal cafeteria noise to absolute silence.

Then they heard Tommy's voice from a nearby table.

“How’s it going, girls?” Tommy said casually. They turned sharply, their bodies going instantly tense. By now, the rumors about Tommy's powers had circulated through the school, making him a figure of both awe and dread.

Linda’s eyes darted around nervously, taking in the impossible scene. "Tommy?" she asked, her voice tight. “What’s going on?”

"Oh, not much," he replied breezily, rising from his seat and walking toward them. “I just thought it might be kind of fun to see if you find getting stripped naked in front of a large group of people as embarrassing as I did. You remember that day, don't you, Linda?"

Linda looked at Nancy, and the look of terror on her face matched her own. “Tommy, that was a long time ago,” reasoned Linda, her voice sounding desperate. “I’m truly sorry. If I could take that day back, I surely would. We were stupid kids; we didn't know what we were doing."

“Well, you’re going to wish you could take today back, because you’re in for some serious humiliation. The kind that doesn't fade with time. The kind that stays with you."

He turned to Nancy, who had instinctively crossed her arms over her chest despite still being fully clothed. "You can start by taking off all your clothes," Tommy said, his voice conversational. "Right here. Right now."

Nancy shivered involuntarily, but otherwise remained frozen in her seat. "Please," she whispered. "Tommy, please don't do this. I'll do anything else. I'll apologize every day. I'll tell everyone what we did was wrong. Please."

Tommy was prepared for her resistance. "Look, if I have to stop time for you and do it myself, you're going to wake up finding yourself in a compromised position with one of the freshman boys. Or girls. Maybe both. Either way, you're going to be naked, so I suggest you do as I say. Now strip."

"Oh, God," Nancy whimpered, the reality of her situation crashing down on her. It was plain for her to see that she was at Tommy’s mercy. She looked at Linda, hoping for some sign of rescue, but found only the same helpless terror on her face.

Nancy slowly, laboriously peeled off her clothes under the watchful, appreciative eyes of Tommy and Nick. Her top came off first, followed by her jeans, and finally, with hands that shook so badly she could barely manage the clasps, she removed her bra and panties. Her famously large breasts, once the subject of envy and attention, were now the objects of her humiliation.

Tommy promptly gathered Nancy's clothes from the floor, folding them with mocking neatness. She looked on horrified as he calmly sauntered a few steps away and dropped them down the garbage chute.

At this point Tommy brought Michael and Danny out of their time stop.

They looked around at the frozen cafeteria, at the scene before them, and then froze again, but this time from sheer disbelief, as they spotted Nancy standing completely naked, arms clamped across her body in a futile attempt at modesty.

"Welcome to payback, guys," Tommy said.

They both looked at Tommy with a sense of foreboding. Tommy wasted no time.

“Nancy,” Tommy said, turning to her. “Do me a favor and help Danny out of his clothes. Just dump them down the garbage chute when you’re done. Danny, I suggest you cooperate.”

Danny was well aware that the consequences could be much more severe if he didn’t do the bidding of the vengeful Tommy. He stood submissively, red-faced and miserable, as Linda slipped off his shirt, yanked off his shoes and socks, then unfastened his jeans. When she slipped down his boxer shorts, Danny’s smaller-than-average sized penis was still in a flaccid state, shrunken with fear and embarrassment.

What normally might be an erotic experience for a guy being undressed by a pretty, naked girl instead was filled with dread of whatever humiliations his tormentor had in store for him. There was no arousal in this, only the sickening feeling that Tommy had planned something far worse than simple nudity.

He watched disconsolately as the naked Nancy, who temporarily welcomed the coverage as she held Danny's clothes close to her body, dropped all his garments down the chute.

Tommy then reached into his backpack and produced three electric razors and a pair of shearing scissors. The day before, he had stopped time, entered a barbershop, and borrowed three of their best razors, intending to return them when he was finished. He plugged the razors into the wall outlet and handed the scissors to Danny, then gave one razor each to Linda, Nancy, and Michael, who had no idea what was coming next.

"What's this for?" Michael asked, his voice cracking.

"You'll find out," Tommy said pleasantly.

Tommy turned to Danny, who stood naked and shivering in the air-conditioned cafeteria. "I'm sure you recall, Danny, how you razzed me mercilessly that day about my smooth body? How you laughed at me because I was still prepubescent? Well, now it’s your turn to find out just what I felt like. Although it’ll probably be a little worse for you, seeing as you’re fifteen years old."

Danny didn't respond, still in shock over the latest turn of events.

“Arms up,” Tommy ordered. “Nancy, I’d like you to relieve Danny of the hair under his arms. Make them nice and smooth."

Danny blinked. "B-but Tommy... I didn't mean... it was just jokes, we were—"

“Here’s your choice,” interrupted Tommy. “You either follow directions like a good little boy, or I freeze you while you get shaved. The only difference is, when you come to, you’ll be tied to the shower in the girls’ locker room. I believe the junior and senior girls both have P.E. this period, so you should be quite a hit. Imagine their surprise. Imagine the photos." Tommy paused momentarily to let Danny’s grim situation sink in. “So, what’s it gonna be, Danny boy?”

Danny, eyes watering with the humiliation of his own compliance, slowly lifted his arms. The posture of surrender, of complete submission, seemed to please Tommy almost as much as what followed.

Nancy powered on the razor. Its buzzing filled the otherwise silent cafeteria. It was quite a bizarre scene, that of a naked girl shaving the armpit hair off a naked boy, both of them blushing crimson.

The electric razors were industrial models, heavy-duty equipment that barbers used for quick, efficient work. It took Nancy only a minute to complete her task, leaving Danny's armpits smooth and pink and exposed.

Perfect," said Tommy, examining the work closely. “Now everyone else, razors on. Linda, do his arms and chest. Nancy, make his legs all pretty and smooth. Michael, you're on ass duty. And make sure you get inside his crack. He'll have to bend over for you. Danny, you can use those scissors to cut off your pubic hair. Cut it as close to the skin as you can. Chop, chop, let’s go!”

Three electric razors buzzed to life, filling the room with their hum. Danny, after a moment's hesitation that earned him a warning look from Tommy, started cutting off his pubic hair with the shearing scissors, incredulous at what was happening to him, and what he was doing to himself.

In five minutes, it was over. The razors fell silent. “Nice work,” said Tommy. “Now, Linda, give your razor to Danny. Danny, please finish off what you started, and make sure you get all the hair off your balls.”

Danny, under the watchful gaze of his audience of five, sullenly shaved off the last remnants of his body hair. Tommy watched from his perch on the edge of a table, his eyes tracking every movement.

When it was done, Danny stood in the center of the cafeteria, naked and pink and completely bare, stripped of every last vestige of masculinity.

Tommy pushed off the table and slowly circled him, inspecting his work like a drill inspector would with one of his recruits. From his angle, the boy looked smaller, diminished by the loss of his body hair, reduced to something prepubescent and vulnerable. Just like Tommy planned.

He stopped in front of Danny and looked him directly in the eyes. The fear there was delicious.

"Well, Danny boy," Tommy said, smiling, "you look much like I did that day. ‘Course, I was only thirteen years old at the time.” Tommy laughed, and for the first time, Danny covered his genitals with his hands in shame, much to Tommy’s delight.

Meanwhile, Linda and Michael were anxiously wondering if they would be victims in Tommy’s depraved plan. As it happened, it was not a question of if, but a question of when.

“Linda, I don’t know why you’re not naked yet,” Tommy said. “Why don’t you treat us to a little strip show?” He paced toward them, his creative energy gaining momentum. He paused, considering, then added, "Michael, you come stand in front of Linda. Right here. Face the audience. And Linda? Every time you take something off, I want you to take the same article of clothing off of Michael. Just drop everything right here in a nice little pile."

Linda stepped forward, her hands shaking visibly at her sides. "Please, Tommy," she said, her voice cracking. "Please, don't do this. I feel bad about what happened to you. I really do. We all feel terrible. Can't we just talk about this? Can't we find some other way to make this right? I'll do anything else. Anything you ask. Just not this. Please, not this."

Tommy remembered the feel of her hand on his naked thigh during his day of torment. How she teased him, laughed at him while others watched and cheered. The memory burned hot in his chest.

“Why do you still have your blouse on? We don’t have all day here.” Tommy chuckled to himself, realizing the irony of his own words. They literally had all the time in the world.

With a defeated sigh, Linda's fingers fumbled with her buttons, slowly revealing a black lacy bra. She obediently dropped her blouse on the floor. She turned to Michael, who stood quietly in dread, and lifted his tee shirt over his head. He raised his arms obediently, his flushed face turned away from Tommy's gaze. The shirt landed on top of the blouse. Next came their shoes and socks, discarded one by one.

When she straightened, Linda reached for her jeans. She took a deep breath, then undid the button and lowered the zipper. She pushed the denim down past her knees, revealing black satin panties that hugged her hips. For Tommy, it created an arousing sight as her watched her tall, lean, tanned body gradually become unveiled.

She whimpered softly as she peeled the jeans the rest of the way off. Then she crouched in front of Michael, her hands trembling as she helped him out of his pants. He was cooperative, lifting each foot silently, staring off in the distance. Now only his white briefs remained.

Tommy broke the silence. "Now, Linda," he said, his voice conversational. "When you remove your bra, I would like you to place it on Michael's chest." Michael flinched, while Nancy couldn’t help letting out a squeaky giggle, despite her own predicament.

Linda reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Her flawless breasts fell free, swaying slightly as she moved. From his perch on the table, Nick let out a low whistle.

"Damn," Nick admired, leaning forward. "Would you look at that."

Linda's hands immediately went to cover her chest, her bra dangling from her fingers at her side. Her face flushed crimson.

"Hands down," Tommy ordered. "You need them to dress our little friend here. Michael needs your help."

Under Tommy’s watchful eye, Michael blushed furiously as Linda slipped the bra straps over his arms and clasped it at his back. She stepped away, leaving Michael standing alone, wallowing in humiliation.

Tommy reached into his backpack and produced a pair of scissors. He held them out to Linda. "Here," he said, grinning widely. "Let's make this easy. Just snip those tighty-whities off our little friend."

Linda took the scissors and, without wasting any time, she made two quick cuts near the waistband. Michael’s briefs split and fluttered to the floor, exposing him in all his humiliated glory. His penis, which was normally at least average-sized, had shriveled up with embarrassment, the tip barely visible through his pubic hair. Nancy giggled again, despite her own nakedness and fear.

"Now, Linda," Tommy said, stepping closer, “I think it’s only fair you let Michael—or is that Michelle—borrow your panties too. It would be indecent to leave him completely naked, wouldn't it? We have to maintain some decorum here.”

Linda blushed so deeply that Tommy could see the color spreading down her neck and chest. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her satin underwear and pushed them down, exposing her blonde bush. She stepped out of them quickly and, in hopes of distracting attention from herself, she knelt before Michael and quickly slipped the panties up his legs. He stood rigid, staring straight ahead as she pulled them into place.

Michael already made for a rather ridiculous sight, thanks to the conspicuous bulge in the satin panties. The sight became even more absurd when Tommy produced a pair of false breast pads and proceeded to stuff them into the bra.

"Well, Michelle," Tommy mused, stepping back to admire his work, his head tilted to one side. “I must say, you look much prettier than I did when they tried to dress me up. I didn’t get a bra and panty set, and I certainly didn’t have any tits. Lucky you. You are being treated like a princess."

Michael said nothing. He just stared at the floor in mortified silence.

Tommy glanced at Nick and smirked. “Hey, maybe we should have our own private show. How would you like our happy guests to provide us with some entertainment? I think they owe us a performance, don’t you?”

Nick’s face lit up, his eyes wide and eager. “Sounds great!” He glanced at the apprehensive group, then back at Tommy, anxious to see what he had in mind.

Tommy remembered how humiliated he had felt when he’d been forced to stand naked on Sister Ruth’s desk and sing. He could still remember the laughter that filled the classroom as he painfully struggled through the song.

"Linda and Nancy," he called out. "Why don’t you two hop up on the table and sing a song for Nicky and me. We'll have a little concert.”

The two girls, still trying in vain to shield themselves, groaned in unison. Reluctantly, they climbed onto the table.

“Oh, yes,” Tommy said, settling on the edge of the table next to Nick. “Arms around each other’s shoulders. One hand on your hip. No more covering up. You’re performers now. You’re stars. And the song of the day is ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun.’ You know the words.”

Tommy and Nick waited expectantly while Michael and Danny stood off to the side, Danny still covering himself with both hands and Michael with his arms crossed over his padded chest. Both looked grateful to be spectators rather than performers, though Tommy knew that relief would be short-lived.

Linda and Nancy put their arms around each other's shoulders. Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, both red-faced and trembling. They began to sing in shaky, off-key voices.

♬ I come home in the morning light... my mother says when you gonna live your life right... oh mother dear we're not the fortunate ones... and girls, they wanna have fun... ♬

Tommy and Nick burst into laughter, clapping along and slapping their thighs. When the girls finished, the two boys rose for a mock standing ovation, whistling and stomping their feet before exchanging a loud high-five that echoed through the cafeteria.

Tommy wasn't done yet. He sat back down and pointed at the bra and panty-clad boy.

“Michelle," he said, "you’re dressed for the part. Get up there between Linda and Nancy. And let’s see some dancing with the singing this time. Really sell it. Give us a show."

Michael looked like he wanted to die. "Please," he whispered. Yet he obeyed, climbing reluctantly onto the table to take his place between the two naked girls. All three stood lined up, their faces flushed the same deep shade of crimson.

Tommy turned his attention to the hairless boy. “Danny, my bad. I didn’t mean to leave you out. Please forgive me. Why don’t you climb up next to Linda and see what you can add to the show. And please stop hiding your little hairless weenie. It’s part of the act.”

Resigned, Danny climbed onto the table, letting his hands fall to his sides in surrender. He stood next to Linda, completely hairless and exposed.

The off-key chorus struck up once more. Four very naked or nearly naked students swayed together and sang, their voices trembling and inharmonious, while Nick gleefully recorded the whole scene on his phone.

Nick leaned over. "This is unreal," Nick whispered to Tommy. "I can't believe we are seeing this."

♬ Oh girls just wanna have fun... that's all they really want... some fun..." ♬

They shuffled their feet, trying to dance, their bodies moving with awkward, jerky motions. Tommy and Nick were practically breathless with laughter. It was a complete spectacle: two naked girls dancing to the beat of their own voices, their breasts jiggling seductively as they did so, and Michael reluctantly prancing in stuffed black satin lingerie.

Danny also contributed immensely to the hilarity, as his penis and balls had shriveled up due to his intense humiliation, and with his now hairless body he looked like a ten-year-old boy. It wasn’t lost on Tommy that this was probably how he had looked when he was forced to stand on the desk sing. He smiled at the fitting comeuppance he had orchestrated.

When the impromptu concert ended, Tommy clapped. “Bravo! Okay, take a bow and climb down. You were all fabulous.” As they were climbing down, Tommy continued. “Consider it your lucky day. I’m going to let you off easy. I could make you remain naked—in your case, Michelle, in your bra and panties—for the rest of the period, which still has twenty minutes to go. But instead, we’re going to give everyone here a parting gift.”

The four of them looked at Tommy anxiously, fearing his next words.

“When I restart time," he continued, "the four of you are going to take a little walk. You are going to parade through the cafeteria. Hands behind your heads. No covering up. Slow and steady. I know it’s a big room, but hey, it should be over in about three or four minutes. And don't rush, or I’ll just rewind and make you start again. I want you to see every face, every person who will see you like this forever. Maybe you will think about that next time you consider humiliating someone."

The four victims had a look of terror in their red faces. They had hoped to escape a public display, but now it was apparent they would be performing a naked march for all to see.

“Any volunteers to lead the parade?” Tommy asked.

Silence answered him. The four of them stood frozen, their eyes darting between one another, each hoping someone else might speak up, might offer themselves up first. None of them did.

Tommy grinned, savoring the moment. "Linda, you go first. I think your lovely naked body should be right at the forefront." He turned to Danny, who still kept one hand pressed against his groin. "Danny, you'll be second. Everyone loves a good laugh, and that hairless little package of yours is going to get quite the reception." He pivoted toward Michael, who stood with his arms crossed over his stuffed bra. "Michelle, you and your pretty bra and panty set can go third. Maybe you can shake your hips from side to side as you walk. Give the crowd a little show. In fact, that goes for all of you. And you'd better be good. Make it convincing." He finally fixed his gaze on Nancy, who stood cowering in dread, staring at the linoleum floor. "Nancy, you can pull up the rear. The last thing everyone will see will be your sweet ass sashaying out the door."

"Please, Tommy," Nancy implored, her voice cracking. She was pretty sure her pleas would go unanswered, but she made a desperate attempt anyway. "Please, can't we just... can't we just... we'll do anything else. Anything you want. Just don't.... please."

"Anything I want?" Tommy echoed, tilting his head to one side as if considering it. "But this is what I want. This is exactly what I want. Now all of you line up on the other side of the room. I’d like you to spread out about ten feet apart.”

The four wretched students made their way across the room, their steps heavy with dread.

"Okay, boys and girls," Tommy called out, clapping his hands together for emphasis. "Hands behind your heads! Lace those fingers together. Good posture. Shoulders back. You're on display now. Just remember, all eyes will be on you. Every single person in this cafeteria is going to see exactly what you are. Don't disappoint them. Here we go." He paused, letting the anticipation stretch. "One... two... three!"

Time resumed.

The effect was immediate and devastating. The frozen cafeteria burst into motion, the students turning toward the commotion at the far end of the room. Then the noise began, a wave of sound that descended upon the four performers from every direction.

Linda began her slow, agonizing walk. Her cheeks were redder than her nipples. She moved steadily, her hips swaying per Tommy's instructions, each step carrying her further into the nightmare. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, refusing to look at the faces that turned toward her, the mouths that fell open, the hands that pointed.

Danny followed, arms raised, his hands locked behind his head, his now-hairless groin exposed for all to see. He heard the laughter, heard the gasps and the whoops and the cruel catcalls.

Then came Michael, still in his bra and panties, shuffling along in shame. The false breasts bounced with each step, drawing hoots of laughter from the boys at the nearest table. Someone threw a french fry that bounced off his shoulder, and Michael flinched but kept moving, staring fixedly at the exit sign.

Biting her lip, Nancy brought up the rear, her bare body on full display. She could feel every eye on her, and it felt like hands touching her skin. She wanted to run, but Tommy's warning echoed in her ears. Don't rush. She forced herself to maintain the slow, swaying pace, her hips moving seductively.

"Look at them!" someone shouted from the left.

"Oh my God, is that Michael? In a bra?"

"Check out the guy with the little dick!" shouted a girl.

"And no hair!" shouted another. "He looks like he's ten!"

"That's Linda Morrison! I thought she was a prude!"

The comments followed them throughout. Laughter, catcalls, gasps, and whistles filled the room. The stunned crowd couldn’t believe what they were seeing: a naked parade marching through the heart of the sixth-period study hall, four students stripped of every dignity, exposed for the entertainment of their peers.

By the halfway point, the noise had reached deafening levels. Students were standing on tables to get a better view, pulling out phones to capture the spectacle. It was everything the poor victims would have expected from the enthralled witnesses of their most extraordinary display, and more. The four performers tried to focus straight ahead, tried to maintain some fragment of composure, but their beet-red faces gave away their humiliation.

"Keep it up," Tommy called out from behind them, his voice cutting through the din. "No covering up. You're doing great."

Finally, after a full three and a half minutes, Nancy exited the room to a crescendo of hoots and cheers. The door swung shut behind her, and for a moment there was silence in the hallway, the four of them standing as a group, shaking and gasping.

Then reality crashed down. The last sight was the four of them covering their privates with desperate hands and scrambling frantically toward their respective locker rooms in search of clothing and dignity.

The buzz in the cafeteria didn’t die down for the rest of the period. That day’s sixth period study hall would be the talk of the school for many moons.

Tommy leaned back in his chair, utterly satisfied. "How am I going to top this?" he thought to himself.

Somehow, he knew he would find a way.

Big fan of equal opportunity stripping.

TeenFan wrote: Wed Dec 27, 2023 8:17 pm Big fan of equal opportunity stripping.

As am I. There will be another chapter or two in this story where females and males alike are stripped and/or humiliated.

My (minor) issue is this: I have written more than one story that is predominately ENM but have a few chapters sprinkled within the story that are strictly ENF. I would post the story in the ENM section, and wouldn't want to break it up by posting those chapters in the ENF section. No big deal - c’est la vie.

Chapter 8: The Humiliation of the Lexus Lady

After taking care of Linda, Nancy, Michael and Danny in the cafeteria during study hall, Tommy was nearly finished with the retaliation against the people who had tormented him three years before. He still had Karen, Carlene, Sister Ruth and Miss Richards to deal with, and he would get to them in due time. Meanwhile, his sophomore year was coming to an end, so it looked like he’d have to wait until the next term to continue his warpath.

But that didn’t stop Tommy from keeping his time-stop and telekinetic powers sharp. He always had his sister Sally available to abuse, and there would be other occasions when a deserving soul would be a victim of Tommy’s power when they least expected it. That summer, he found a couple of such opportunities.

One afternoon, Tommy found himself in line at the local supermarket, already a bit pressed for time. He was supposed to meet a friend soon. Unfortunately, the checker, a brunette in her early twenties wearing a nametag that read “MANDY,” was taking her sweet time with the customer ahead of him. She scanned each item with maddening slowness, pausing every few seconds to gossip with her bagger about her weekend plans. Something about a concert and whether her roommate was going to be there.

Both Tommy and the man in front of him were visibly annoyed.

"Could you maybe pick up the pace a bit?" Tommy asked, keeping his voice pleasant.

Mandy shot him a dirty look, then turned away with a scoff and went right back to chatting with her coworker.

"Some people," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

"Excuse me," Tommy tried again, stepping slightly forward.

She turned back, clearly annoyed. “What now?”

Tommy smiled. “You know, I’ve been patient. But you’re about to be more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your entire life. I just want to make it perfectly clear that your rudeness has everything to do with your soon-to-be unfortunate situation.”

Mandy rolled her eyes, shook her head, and went back to scanning a can of soup, slowly. Deliberately slowly.

"Whatever, kid."

Tommy smiled. "Your choice."

He immediately stopped time.

He stepped around the frozen customer ahead of him and approached the checker. He unbuttoned her blouse, slipped it from her shoulders, and tucked it into the bottom of the customer’s grocery bag. She wore a bright, hot-pink bra underneath that stood out vividly. Tommy gave a low whistle of appreciation.

“Very nice,” he said to himself.

Next, he unfastened her pants and eased them down past her hips. He slid her matching hot-pink panties to her ankles, then stepped back to admire her figure and smooth, tanned skin. The hot-pink set was clearly meant to be seen, even if not quite like this.

"Let's make this interesting," Tommy said to himself.

He removed one of her shoelaces and tied one end around the bottom of her panties. He anchored the other end to the steel support bar beneath her register, making sure the knot was tight enough to resist any frantic attempt to undo it.

Then he strolled casually back to his place in line, restarted time, and watched with delight as the stunned checker screamed.

"OH MY GOD!" Mandy shrieked, her hands shooting down to yank helplessly at her panties. "OH MY GOD! OH SHIT!"

In her panic, she continued to pull on her panties, but her efforts only succeeded in tightening the shoelace knot. The customer and the bagger were watching in astonishment, mouths agape, while other patrons and employees began to notice what was happening.

“What... what is this?!” Mandy wailed, her voice cracking as her face flushed crimson. “Help me! Someone help me!”

No one moved. They were all too busy staring, some already pulling out their phones to record the spectacle. A child in a nearby shopping cart pointed and asked his mother what was happening. The mother simply stood there with a hand over her mouth, unable to look away.

The mortified checker, now whimpering openly, finally discovered the cause of the obstruction (a shoelace? Where had that come from?) and frantically went to work on the knot, but it wouldn’t budge. Her fingers tore at the shoelace, desperately trying to loosen the stubborn knot.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she chanted, tears welling in her eyes. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening!"

She was left with only one unavoidable option: she would have to strip herself. With a choked sob, she furiously pulled off her shoes, then her pants, and finally her panties, leaving them tangled with the shoelace. In her frantic state, she didn’t even think to put her pants back on. She simply started running toward the storeroom at the back of the store, her arms crossed over her front as she went.

Tommy and his appreciative audience watched as Mandy disappeared down the frozen-food aisle, wailing in humiliation, clad in nothing but a hot-pink bra and white anklets.

Tommy picked up his bag of groceries and headed for the exit, grinning over his shoulder.

"Have a nice day!"

He figured Mandy would treat her customers with a little more respect from that point forward.

* * * * *

Another time, Tommy was walking around downtown on a beautiful midsummer day, crossing the street at a crosswalk. The light was green, and the “Don’t Walk” sign had just started blinking, so he knew he had plenty of time to make it across. A buxom woman in her early forties, driving a shiny new black Lexus, wanted to make a right turn but had to wait for Tommy to clear the crosswalk. As he walked in front of her car, she leaned on her horn and screamed through her open window, “You’re going against the Don’t Walk, you little shit!”

Tommy stopped, turned, and regarded her calmly. “I’m guessing that you’ve had a tough morning and probably already regret what you just said. Kind of guy I am, I’ll give you a chance to apologize.”

The Lexus lady's face twisted with contempt behind her designer sunglasses, and she made a mistake she would regret until her dying day.

“Fuck off, asshole!” she yelled while hitting her accelerator.

Tommy nodded slowly. "Okay then."

He froze time and walked casually around to her door. He peered in at the woman, still seething behind the wheel, completely unaware of the reckoning about to unfold.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” Tommy said to himself.

He calmly opened her car door, climbed inside, and began undressing her. He took his time, enjoying the process. Off came her sundress, then her sandals, and everything underneath. He left her sitting completely nude in the driver's seat, her hands still clutching at the steering wheel in frozen fury.

“Not bad for a middle-aged lady,” he said to himself as he admired her. She was a little overweight, and there was a bit of sag to her breasts, but she was certainly put together well enough to turn a few heads. And on this day, in her present condition? Oh yes, she was going to turn a few heads.

Before leaving the car, Tommy spent a couple of minutes searching the stereo system. He found just the right song and queued it up with a grin. He gathered her clothes and searched the car to make sure she had nothing available to cover herself. Satisfied, he turned off the engine and slipped the keys into his pocket. He tossed her sundress and sandals into the nearest trash can, then draped her white bra and panties across the hood of her Lexus.

Just before restarting time, Tommy had one last idea. He opened the center console. Jackpot. Inside, he found her wallet and pulled out her driver’s license.

“Cheryl Brantley,” he read aloud. "Nice to meet you, Cheryl."

Satisfied, Tommy stepped back onto the sidewalk, licked his lips, and restarted time.

What followed was chaos.

Cheryl Brantley was beside herself when she realized she was stark naked inside her car in a bustling downtown area. She let out a startled shriek, clutching herself and twisting wildly in her seat.

“WHAT THE HELL?! OH MY GOD!”

She looked around frantically for her clothes, searching the empty leather seat beside her and then looking underneath it. Her panic mounted with every passing second.

"Where are my clothes?!" she screamed. "This isn't happening! This isn't happening!"

The woman in the car behind her was honking her horn, confused by the delay. Cheryl slammed her foot on the accelerator, but the Lexus didn’t move. The keys were gone. The engine was dead.

She searched the floor, then under her seat, but found nothing. More horns joined the chorus. Pedestrians were beginning to turn and look in her direction, their curiosity piqued by the commotion.

That's when Tommy cupped his hands and called out in a voice loud enough to carry across the intersection:

"Hey look! She's naked!"

Cheryl's head snapped toward the sound.

There he was, the little punk from the crosswalk, peering through her passenger window with his hands framing his face, grinning like a demon. And now others were joining in. Curious onlookers gathered around the car, laughing and holding up their phones.

“She’s naked!”

“She’s really naked!”

“Her name is Cheryl Brantley!” Tommy called out helpfully.

“Oh my God,” Cheryl moaned, shrinking into her seat as she realized that her name was now part of the spectacle, her identity exposed along with her body.

“Hey, I know Cheryl!” shouted a woman in the gathering crowd. “She’s in my country club!”

The Lexus Lady let out a strangled cry and flailed helplessly while screaming, “FUCK! OH, FUCK ME! Please, help me! Oh, for the love of GOD!

Now hysterical, she tried ducking beneath the dashboard, only to bang her head against the steering wheel. She finally leaned forward over the wheel, one arm covering her breasts and one hand between her legs. That was when she saw them: her bra and panties, lying tauntingly on the hood of her car.

She sat there for a moment, taking stock of her grim situation. The longer she remained there, the more attention she would attract. She decided that being seen in her underwear was preferable to being seen with nothing at all.

She cracked open the door, peeked outside, and reached for her garments.

Just as her fingers grazed the fabric, the underwear slid away across the hood.

“What the hell?” she said out loud.

There's no wind, how is this happening?

Hell-bent on retrieving her underwear, she threw modesty to the wind and climbed onto the hood in full view of the crowd. A mother nearby giggled and covered her child’s eyes.

Cheryl reached for her bra and panties again. Once again, they slid away from her, this time tumbling onto the ground on the other side of the car.

“OH, COME ON!!” she shrieked. "FUCK ME!"

She crawled around to the other side and looked down at her underwear. Then she looked up.

The crowd had grown considerably. There must have been fifty people now, maybe more, and dozens of phones were recording her ordeal. Several onlookers now knew her name by heart.

"Whoo-hoo! Thank you, Cheryl!" someone shouted.

Her face turned an even deeper shade of red.

And then Tommy made it worse.

With the blink of an eye, he rolled down the passenger-side window and switched on the stereo. Suddenly, Right Said Fred’s I’m Too Sexy blasted at full volume, eliciting uproarious laughter from the crowd.

♬ “I’m too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt...” ♬

The music echoed off the surrounding buildings. The Lexus Lady stood frozen for a moment, utterly mortified and seemingly unable to decide what to do. Finally, the sanctuary of her car seemed like her best option.

She turned around and crawled back across the hood, cheeks jiggling with each frantic movement, giving her enthralled audience yet another provocative view. She scrambled off the other side, her bare feet slapping against the pavement amid a cacophony of horns, now honking for amusement rather than impatience.

She dashed to the side of the car, yanked on the handle—and screamed again. The door was locked.

Perfectly on cue, the song launched into its next verse:

♬ " I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car..." ♬

“NOOOOOO!” screamed the Lexus Lady as the crowd erupted.

“Encore!” someone shouted.

Desperate now, she made one more attempt to retrieve her underwear. She raced around the front of the Lexus, covering herself as best she could with her hands and arms. Her bra and panties lay near the passenger door.

She bent down and reached for them.

They slid underneath the car.

“Oh, come on!”

She dropped to her knees and reached underneath, only to find herself exposing her charms to half the city. Realizing what she was doing, she squealed and shot upright.

Then she made another desperate decision.

The passenger window was still open. She could climb through it and get back inside.

Headfirst.

She scrambled through, her legs kicking helplessly in the air behind her, offering the crowd yet another unforgettable view.

Then the Lexus exploded with sound.

The alarm began blaring, a piercing WEE-OOH-WEE-OOH, followed by the rapid HONK-HONK-HONK of the horn.

The Lexus Lady screamed in terror and flopped backward out of the window. She stumbled over her own feet and landed squarely on her bare backside with a mortified yelp on the hot pavement.

The crowd was howling now.

She lay there for a moment, stunned, her dignity in complete ruins.

Then she saw her only option: the public restroom across the street.

Drenched in humiliation, the Lexus Lady bolted upright and ran, one arm over her breasts and the other between her legs, her bare feet slapping against the crosswalk where it had all begun.

Behind her, the chaos continued. The car alarm blared. Horns sounded from several directions. And the stereo kept playing:

♬ I'm too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love..." ♬

To add to her disgrace, the crowd began chanting her name in unison.

“Cheryl! Cheryl! Cheryl!”

As the naked Lexus Lady neared the restroom amid a flurry of honks, howls, and laughter, Tommy followed close behind, making sure she heard his parting words.

“Hey Cheryl! You’re going against the Don’t Walk!”

Chapter 9: The Cheerleader's Comeuppance

Tommy was sixteen and had entered his junior year in high school. It was late September when he would finally settle his account with Karen, one of the principal players in Tommy’s debasement when he was in the seventh grade. The reader may recall that Karen was in the eighth grade at the time, and how much she had delighted in teasing and tormenting her junior classman, making sport of his embarrassment whenever the opportunity arose. She was the one who had slowly and sadistically removed Tommy’s underpants during dance class, reveling in every moment. She had also played a part in stripping away his belly-dance costume, leaving him naked and exposed while he was forced to continue dancing for everyone’s amusement.

Karen was now in her senior year. A beautiful seventeen-year-old blonde, Karen was popular with the boys and well aware of it. She had a couple of girlfriends, but most of the girls found her insufferably haughty, and with good reason. Her parents were well-to-do, and Karen carried herself as though she belonged to a class above the rest, a trait that many of her female classmates despised.

Paradoxically, for all her bravado, Karen harbored a secret vulnerability. She was painfully shy about her own body. No boy, save perhaps her father when she was a baby, had ever seen her naked. Even in P.E., she was acutely self-conscious when she had to shower with the other girls, always turning away, her towel clutched at the ready.

She and Tommy both attended Washington High. Karen was a cheerleader; Tommy, thanks to his new powers, had become something of a cheery leader (sincere apologies from the author).

It was a big night at Washington: the late-September showdown against their archrival, Lincoln. The rivalry between the two schools was legendary, perhaps the fiercest in the state. They truly didn’t like each other, and that was putting it mildly.

That Friday night, the stands were packed and buzzing with feverish energy. The game was an intensely fought affair, with neither team willing to give an inch. Several skirmishes broke out on the gridiron, while the two rooting sections traded barbs from opposite sides of the field. The hostility was palpable, even from a distance.

Tommy sat with the Washington fans, half-watching the game and half-watching Karen bouncing up and down in her skimpy cheerleading outfit. He had something planned for Karen, something he intended to set in motion a little later in the game, when the moment was just right.

For the moment, however, he decided to have a little fun at her expense. During a second-quarter timeout, Karen and the other cheerleaders launched into a high-energy routine as the crowd’s attention shifted to the sidelines. Tommy watched with a sly smile as he used his telekinetic powers to flip up Karen’s skirt, lifting it well above her hips. Her blue panties, a perfect match for her uniform, were suddenly on full display to anyone looking her way.

Karen was so focused on her routine that she remained completely unaware of the extra entertainment she was providing. She kicked, spun, and leaped through the routine, oblivious to the spectacle, while Tommy watched from the stands with quiet amusement.

After a few seconds, he allowed the skirt to drop back into place. Then he figured out a way to get her attention. While she danced and waved her pompoms high in the air, Tommy went for a bolder move. He concentrated, focusing his power, and slowly began lowering Karen’s panties down her legs.

Karen’s reaction was immediate. She gasped, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief, and instinctively dropped her pompoms to the ground. Her face flushed crimson as she quickly pulled her panties back into place, then hurriedly resumed the routine, doing her best to pretend nothing had happened. Her flushed cheeks told a very different story to anyone paying attention.

Tommy chuckled to himself, satisfied with his opening gambit.

At halftime, he decided it was time for the main event. He stopped time and eagerly made his way down to the track, where he found Karen suspended mid-motion. He picked her up and started carrying her toward the stands when, by a stroke of luck, he spotted a wheelbarrow abandoned nearby. He carefully lowered Karen into it and wheeled her across the field to the Lincoln side. There, he lifted her out and carried her to the very middle of the Lincoln rooting section, where he sat her upright.

She looked completely out of place in her bright blue-and-gold cheer uniform, a splash of Washington colors amid a sea of students predominantly dressed in hostile red and white. Tommy peeled off his own Washington shirt, revealing a red one underneath that he had worn for just this occasion. He dropped down beside her, casual as could be, then restarted time, but only for Karen.

Karen blinked awake and immediately realized something was very wrong. The crowd around her was frozen, silent, utterly still. She was sitting in the middle of what she recognized as potentially hostile territory, while the friendly blue and gold of her own side seemed miles away.

She was about to get up, to run, to do something, when Tommy broke the eerie silence.

"Hi, Karen," he said, his voice casual, almost friendly. "How are ya'?"

She nearly jumped out of her sneakers. Her head whipped toward the voice, and when she recognized Tommy, a wave of apprehension swept over her, making her stomach clench. She had heard the stories of Tommy’s retaliations during the last term, and felt nothing but relief when the school year had ended without her becoming one of his victims. It was apparent now that her relief had been premature.

“Uh... h-hi, Tommy,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “What are you... what’s going on?”

She didn’t really need an answer. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Nothing good ever came from finding yourself in the middle of enemy territory with someone who had every reason to hate you.

Tommy smiled calmly. “It’s payback time, darling. I thought you might enjoy a little taste of what you put me through, back when you thought you were untouchable." He let that hang for a beat, watching her squirm. “In a moment, I’m going to restart time for everyone. There’s no telling how they’ll react when they find a Washington cheerleader in their midst, but I think it’s a good bet that your little blue-and-gold dress will have to go. Eventually, anyway.”

The fear in Karen’s eyes, that delicious panic, gave Tommy a sense of redemption that warmed him from the inside out.

"Tommy, please, I beg you!" Karen's voice rose, desperate and cracking. "I'll do anything you say, anything at all. Just don't do this to me! Please, Tommy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did. I was stupid and cruel, and I didn't think, but please, don't do this!"

Tommy had heard that kind of desperate plea before, had become accustomed to it. He didn't hate it. In fact, it gave him a nice little glow of satisfaction. After all, Karen hadn’t exactly been merciful back in the day, had she? She hadn't shown him any mercy when she'd stripped him bare and laughed while he was forced to dance naked in front of the whole seventh and eighth grade classes.

He let her squirm a little longer, let the silence stretch and the fear to build, before casually restarting time for the rest of the world.

It only took a few seconds for the Lincoln students to notice their unexpected guest.

“Hey, what’s this?” barked a guy sitting behind Karen. “Why’s she wearing blue and gold? What's a Washington cheerleader doing here?"

The Lincoln students within earshot were now staring at Karen, their expressions shifting from confusion to anger. Karen made a panicked attempt to run, but a male student in front of her roughly pushed her back into her seat, his hand heavy on her shoulder.

Tommy decided to intervene before things got too far out of hand, before the mood turned truly ugly.

"Guys, guys," he called out, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I think I may have a solution to this little problem we have here."

The Lincoln students momentarily settled, curious to hear what the young man in the red shirt had in mind, though their eyes kept drifting back to the terrified cheerleader in their midst.

Tommy gestured toward Karen with a casual wave. “Now, I have a good feeling this pretty little cheerleader from Washington would be willing to trade her uniform for your promise not to beat the shit out of her. What do you say? A fair exchange, don’t you think?”

The suggestion immediately appeased the Lincoln students, while eliciting a look of utter horror from Karen.

Tommy leaned close to Karen and lowered his voice. “You might as well face it, Karen. If you don’t take off your dress on your own, I’m sure these guys, and probably even some of the girls, would be happy to remove it for you. And who knows what else they might do if they get their hands on you? I’m thinking it wouldn’t be pretty, and it definitely wouldn’t be gentle. It’s up to you, but you might find it works out better if you strip voluntarily. At least that way, you keep some control over the situation. Some.”

Karen, though on the verge of panic, understood the hopelessness of her situation. One way or another, she was going to lose her dress. The only question was how much worse the alternative might be.

She might as well do it herself.

“Oh, God!” she cried as she reached for the zipper at the top of her back. She squeezed her eyes shut and, with unsteady fingers, lowered it all the way to the small of her back. The noise from the crowd grew louder as they realized the pretty cheerleader was actually going to strip.

“She’s really doing it!” an excited girl shouted.

“Oh, please, Tommy!” Karen begged, her voice raw with desperation. “You’ve made your point. You’ve won, okay? I’m begging you, please, get me out of this! I’ll never be mean to anyone again, I swear. I’ll be good, I’ll be kind. Just please make it stop!”

Tommy shrugged. “Keep going, you’re doing just fine, sweetheart. Don't stop now, not when you're giving them such a good show. They'll remember this for years, and so will you."

Karen shuddered. Resigned to her fate, she reluctantly pulled the dress from her arms and let the top slip down into her lap, exposing a substantial chest beneath a dark blue lace bra.

The crowd erupted in cheers and hoots. Karen leaned forward, staring at the ground with her arms clamped tightly over herself. Her mortification was almost physically painful, and the blush extended from her forehead down her neck to the tops of her breasts.

Tommy was sitting right beside her, just as he had been when she had mercilessly stripped him three and a half years earlier. He cupped a hand around her ear so she could hear him over the noise, his breath warm against her skin.

"Don't stop now, darling," he said, his voice soft and intimate. "You’re putting on quite a show. Slip off your dress and give it to the guy behind you.”

Karen cringed. To the glee of the cheering throng, she lifted herself and pushed her dress down her legs. She slipped it from her feet and reluctantly handed it to the guy behind her, who immediately waved it over his head before hurling it into the next section.

Karen watched in dismay as the dress disappeared into the crowd. She realized with growing dread that she might never see it again. Now she was acutely aware of her vulnerability, sitting hunched over in nothing but her bra and matching blue panties, white tennis shoes, and white anklets, surrounded by enemies.

Tommy remembered the hellish humiliation Karen had put him through years before. He had waited a long time for this, and he intended to make the most of it.

He slid his arm around her back, feeling her flinch at his touch, and leaned close until his lips brushed her ear. "You're looking pretty hot, sweetheart," he said, "but you’re still wearing the wrong-colored uniform. Such a shame you didn't put on your red or white underwear. I'm afraid you're going to have to keep going."

Karen, tears streaming down her profusely blushing face, looked up at him, her eyes swimming with desperation. “Oh God, Tommy, can’t you see you’ve humiliated me enough? Please, stop this madness and get me out of here! Please!”

Tommy savored the pleading tone in her voice. “In due time, my dear. In due time. But first, you’re going to experience the humiliation of all humiliations: public nudity." He paused, watching her shudder. “You know what comes next.”

He withdrew his arm and leaned back, folding his arms across his chest as he watched intently.

Karen sat motionless for several seconds, as though paralyzed. Then her hands began to move. Reaching slowly behind her back, her fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra. A growing buzz swept through the crowd. She was blubbering now, her shoulders hitching with sobs. She held the bra in place for another moment, then slowly let it fall into her lap.

The noise from the surrounding crowd surged to a new decibel as the seventeen-year-old’s breasts were freed from their confinement. Karen immediately collapsed forward, folding her arms protectively across herself and lowering her head to her knees, trying desperately to shield herself from prying eyes. The bleachers rattled beneath the stomping feet and shouted reactions of the crowd.

Tommy reached down and plucked the bra from her lap, holding it aloft for the audience to see. A fresh wave of cheers erupted. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed it toward the spectators, where it was snatched by a boy who looked like he’d just won the lottery. He immediately hoisted it overhead, prompting another eruption of cheers from the crowd.

Tommy turned back to Karen and put an arm around her bare shoulders. She recoiled at his touch, but he simply leaned closer, his eyes lingering appreciatively on her naked breasts before he brought his mouth to her ear.

“You’re almost there, Karen darlin’,” he said. "Now let's slip those panties off.”

Karen’s entire body tensed at the command. She remained frozen for a moment, staring at the ground while the crowd waited expectantly. Then, with agonizing reluctance, she slowly hooked her thumbs in her waistband. The crowd leaned forward as one as she slid the panties down her thighs, inch by agonizing inch, until they were off completely. Someone snatched the undergarment from her grasp the moment they cleared her ankles, tossing them a few rows forward where they were caught in midair by an outstretched hand.

The reaction was instantaneous. The crowd erupted, their cheers and laughter echoing throughout the venue.

Karen immediately curled into herself, hugging her knees to her chest. She was trembling from head to toe, her face burning with mortification as her naked body shivered in the evening air.

“OH GOD! OH GOD! OHHHH!” she wailed.

Tommy leaned toward her once more, his voice almost conversational amid the uproar.

“Now sit up straight and put your hands behind your head, sweetheart.” He smiled. “Like I had to do.”

The near-hysterical Karen shook her head, eyes squeezed shut, but Tommy’s hand was already on her shoulder, pressing her upright. The crowd responded with fresh howls of approval as Karen, still sobbing, straightened her back and slowly, ever so slowly, raised her hands behind her head. Her breasts lifted with the position, fully exposed to the night air and the leering, cheering spectators.

Tommy wasn’t finished. He let her remain there for several agonizing moments before giving her another instruction.

“Now I’d like you to get on your hands and knees on your seat, facing me.”

Karen shook her head vigorously. “Please Tommy, no! Oh God, please, I can’t take it anymore!”

Tommy remained unmoved. “If you don’t do as I say right now, I’ll stop time and handcuff you to one of the goalposts. With your hands above your head. Then I'll start it again, and all your friends will get to see you in all your glory." He let the threat hang between them for a moment. "Now make your choice."

Distraught and trembling, Karen slowly assumed the position, lowering her limbs to the cold metal. Hooting and catcalls erupted immediately, the crowd's depravity fully unleashed, as Karen created quite a sight with her bare ass up in the air, her breasts dangling beneath her, every inch of her on display.

Through it all, Tommy remained face to face with her, watching her with a devilish smile. He moved closer until their faces were only inches apart.

“Look me in the eyes, sweetheart.”

Karen forced herself to meet Tommy's gaze. He saw the panic and shame in her expression and seemed to relish every second.

“Tell me what you’re feeling right now, Karen.”

Karen simply whimpered, unable to find the words.

"I'd really like to hear it in your own words, sweetie," Tommy persisted, reaching out to stroke her underneath her chin. "Tell me how it feels to be naked on display like this."

Karen answered, hoping it would help speed up an end to her miserable situation. “It’s... it’s embarrassing,” was all she could muster.

"Embarrassing?" Tommy countered, his eyebrows rising in surprise. "More like 'humiliating,' don't you think? Completely and utterly humiliating." He leaned closer. "Say it."

Karen's voice cracked as she responded. “It's completely and utterly humiliating! Please, oh God, Tommy, find my clothes! Please!”

Karen felt a hand from one of the Lincoln students stroking her naked backside. She shrieked and recoiled, her eyes wide with panic.

Tommy watched her squirm, then, satisfied, decided it was time for the grand finale.

He stopped time again for everyone except Karen, giving him a chance to talk to her without having to shout over the noise.

He turned and straddled his bleacher seat, facing his hapless victim directly. "There's one last thing I want you to do," he told her. "After that, I’ll end this. Otherwise, it will continue until you do exactly as I say."

As Tommy explained what he wanted, Karen shook her head frantically, her eyes wide with terror. “Please, no!” she gasped. “Oh, I can’t do that!”

Tommy's expression made it clear that he wasn't going to relent.

Had anyone else in the stadium not been in time-stop mode, they would have witnessed an unusual sight: a fully clothed sixteen-year-old boy leading a naked, nearly hysterical seventeen-year-old girl across the track. The boy was smiling brightly, while the pretty girl was crimson with embarrassment and fear. When they reached the other side, the girl could be seen reluctantly picking up two pompons, one blue and one gold.

* * * * *

Tommy started time for the band leader, who was a friend of his. He spoke to him, and they shared a wicked laugh that carried across the frozen stadium.

Tommy slipped his blue shirt back on and took a seat in the middle of the stands, settling in for the main event.

Karen stood alone on the track, naked but for shoes and anklets. The gold pompon covered her breasts and the blue one her crotch. That was about to change.

“Are you ready, darling?” called Tommy.

Karen, emotionally spent, stared at the ground and nodded, her whole body quaking with dread.

“Okay, Ron,” Tommy called to the bandleader. “Help me with the countdown. Ready, TEN! Karen, hold those pompons high above your head."

“NINE! That’s a great look, sweetheart. They’ll love your tits. Spread those legs out a little more."

Karen’s knees buckled, but she obeyed, raising the pompons and opening her stance.

“EIGHT! That’s it, we can really see your pussy now."

"SEVEN! SIX! Almost showtime, Karen darlin’. You’d better be good, or I’ll leave you by yourself with the Lincoln crowd."

"FIVE! FOUR! Oh yeah, you look hot!""

"THREE! TWO! ONE! Okay, sweetheart, you’re on!"

He started time. “Enjoy the show, everybody!” Tommy yelled.

Ron waved his arms, and the band launched into the school fight song. Karen immediately began her routine, her naked body moving with a mixture of panic and desperation.

Someone shouted from the stands, “Hey, look! She’s naked!”

The buzzing from the crowd continued to build.

“Oh, my God!” someone else yelled. “That’s Karen!”

The band played on as Karen jumped up and down, waving her pompoms back and forth. She followed Tommy’s instructions precisely, forcing herself through the routine despite her obvious distress. At one point, she hopped on one foot and kicked her other leg up and down, creating quite a bawdy sight and eliciting another wave of shouts and catcalls from the stands.

She turned around and gave a little booty-shake, putting her curvaceous backside on full display. The crowd howled with appreciation. Tears streamed down Karen’s face as she pushed through the rest of the routine, mortified by every second of the spectacle.

Finally, mercifully, the band finished the number, and Karen could endure no more. With one pompon pressed over her chest and the other clutched over her sex, she made a beeline down the track, threatening Washington High’s record for the 440. She tore past the field and straight through the open gate, never breaking her stride or looking back.

Her humiliation was total, the kind of shame that leaves a scar for decades.

Tommy sat back, watching her naked, bouncing cheeks disappear into the darkness. A deep sense of gratification settled over him; he had exacted vengeance on yet another of his tormentors. He grinned slowly to himself, replaying the night’s extraordinary events in his mind.

The second half of the game would be an afterthought. Tommy had already won.

Chapter 10: The Topless Twelve

Carlene, Tommy thought to himself. What to do with Carlene?

As readers may recall, Carlene had played a significant role in Tommy’s legendary humiliation three years earlier. The now nineteen-year-old niece of the perverted Miss Richards, with whom she had shared the twisted pleasure in the poor lad's degradation, was one of only three names remaining on Tommy’s retribution list. The other two, Sister Ruth and Miss Richards herself, still awaited their own reckonings. Carlene, however, was next.

Carlene was now a college student attending school out of state, but she was back home for winter break. She had been looking forward to a relaxing two weeks, a chance to recover from the academic rigors of her first semester away. Instead, as she neared the end of her final weekend before returning to campus, she found herself increasingly anxious, constantly looking over her shoulder.

A particularly unnerving experience the previous weekend had everything to do with her state of mind. Carlene shuddered whenever she thought about it, which was quite often.

Tommy, meanwhile, couldn't suppress a grin whenever he replayed that Saturday night in his mind.

Let’s rewind.

Tommy, through means too mundane to go into here, had ascertained that Carlene had organized a reunion dinner with her twelve former high school volleyball teammates at a classy little restaurant in town. Afterward, they had planned to go clubbing.

The clubbing never happened.

For Tommy, it was the perfect full-circle moment. After all, Carlene had masterminded the infamous “peek show,” in which each of her teammates, at her direction, had taken turns peeking into Tommy’s underpants, much to their collective amusement and his humiliation. He hadn’t originally planned on going after all the volleyball players. Carlene was his main objective. But since the opportunity had practically fallen into his lap, he saw no reason not to make the most of it.

* * * * *

As Tommy strolled into the restaurant, he spotted them immediately: thirteen fashionably dressed young women seated around a massive circular table in the center of the dining room. The scene could not have been more ideal. Tommy could hardly believe his good fortune.

"Perfect!" he said aloud, unable to suppress a grin.

He wasted no time. One might even say he did so in the most literal sense, because he stopped time.

He sauntered over to the table and, starting with the girl on Carlene's left, he began unbuttoning her crisp white blouse.

I'll save the best for last, he thought to himself, referring, of course, to Carlene.

He easily slipped off the blouse, then unhooked her white bra, and started a pile by tossing the garments on the floor behind him. He let out a soft whistle as he admired the femininity of the half-naked beauty before him. Her pale breasts glistened under the light emanating from the candles and the chandelier above them. Tommy felt a stirring in his jeans as he took in the vision, his pulse quickening with anticipation.

"Not bad," he said aloud. "Not bad at all."

Not to be deterred, he proceeded to the next girl and briskly rendered her topless as well. He worked his way all the way around the table, stopping short of Carlene. By the time he reached the last of Carlene’s teammates, the scene was surreal: a ring of beautiful young women, seated upright, arms frozen mid-gesture, their bared breasts resting against the white linen tablecloth. Taking in the variety of sizes, shapes, and skin tones, Tommy found the scene utterly erotic. It was all he could do to keep himself from obtaining relief through self-gratification right there on the spot.

But he had a bigger fish to fry.

He reached for the first button of Carlene's blouse... then paused.

Hmm. Maybe I'll just give her something to think about for a while. After all she'll be in town for another week.

He decided to leave her clothes on. Well, at least the ones that were visible to the naked eye.

He reached under her skirt and pulled her panties off. They were lace, expensive and delicate, and he held them up to inspect them before stuffing them into his jacket pocket.

Just to let her know I haven't forgotten her," he smiled.

Then came the twine. Tommy reached into his jacket and pulled out a hefty coil. He hadn’t been entirely sure how he would use it, but he’d had a hunch it might come in handy. It did.

He pushed each girl’s chair in tightly, so their torsos were pressed snugly against the edge of the table. Being volleyball players, they were mostly tall, so their naked breasts rested on the table fetchingly. It gave the scene an unintentionally comic touch, and Tommy chuckled at the absurdity of it as he snapped a photo for his collection.

He proceeded to tie each of the girls' arms to the back of the chair, looping the twine around her wrists and fastening it with knots he'd learned during a summer at scout camp. He then tied the front legs of each chair to the main support beneath the table, making sure everything was taut and secure.

“They won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” he mused aloud.

He gathered the dinner napkins from their laps, removing any obvious means of covering themselves should Carlene somehow manage to come up with a way to help her ill-fated teammates.

After adding the napkins to the collection of blouses and bras, Tommy gathered everything together and deposited it in a large trash can in the kitchen.

Then came his final touch. He slipped a small, handwritten note inside the panties of each of the half-naked dozen. Later, they all would know who was responsible for their humiliating nightmare, though they would have absolutely no idea how he had managed to pull it off.

The notes read:

I took the liberty of peeking inside your panties,
much like you peeked inside my underpants.
Ah, poetic justice is served.
Thanks for the show!
Love, Tommy.

“Poetic justice,” he repeated, slipping the final note into place. He smiled to himself. “I like the sound of that.”

Tommy was finally ready to enjoy the fruits of his labor. He positioned himself near the bar, leaning against a pillar where he could observe without being noticed, and let time resume.

It took only a few seconds for the restaurant to erupt into absolute pandemonium. A cacophony of screams filled the room, twelve voices shrieking at once until their words became completely unintelligible. For anyone unsure of the definition of the word “chaos,” viewing a video of the unfolding scene would certainly clear that up.

The commotion immediately drew everyone's attention. Heads turned. Conversations stopped. Waiters, waitresses, and kitchen staff abandoned whatever they were doing and hurried over to see what had happened.

What they encountered was a scene few would ever forget: twelve young women, bound to their chairs, topless, squirming and shrieking in a frantic meltdown. Their bare breasts bounced and jiggled as they twisted in their bonds, screaming and calling for help.

Only one woman at the table wasn’t in a state of partial undress. Carlene, still fully clothed, at least above the waist, sat frozen in stunned disbelief. She looked down at herself, relief washing over her when she saw that her blouse was still buttoned to the neck.

Then instinct took over. She sprang from her chair and rushed to the aid of her former teammates.

"Paula? Ginger? Oh my God, are you okay?" Carlene gasped, hurrying toward the girls nearest her.

“Does it look like we’re okay?” Paula wailed, her voice shrill with hysteria. “Carlene, what the hell is happening?!”

With the help of several waitresses and three Good Samaritan patrons, it took Carlene a full ten minutes to extricate the crimson-faced young women from their chairs. One by one they could be seen running feverishly toward the ladies' room with their arms crisscrossed over their chests, sobbing and crying out in shame.

Tommy, meanwhile, watched from his position near the bar, thoroughly pleased with the chaos he had created. While enjoying the plight of the frantic dozen, he watched Carlene closely

Then came the moment he had been waiting for.

Carlene suddenly stopped. She hesitated, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and discreetly checked beneath her skirt to confirm what she had sensed: that she was sans panties. Her fingers found bare skin where fabric should have been, and her entire body went rigid. The look on her face was the perfect blend of horror, confusion, and dread.

That's right, Carlene. There will be your day of reckoning, and I think you know it.

Tommy allowed himself one last satisfied glance before turning toward the exit. He sauntered out of the restaurant with a smile, pleased with the evening’s work. Behind him, the commotion continued.

Music to his ears.

* * * * *

It was Sunday morning, the day after the reunion debacle. Carlene, who had hardly caught a wink of sleep after tossing and turning all night, picked up her buzzing phone. The caller was Paula, one of her mortified dinner companions from the night before.

“Paula, oh my God, are you okay?” asked Carlene sympathetically.

“I—I don’t know,” came the shaken reply. “I mean, I think so? But like... not really. I keep seeing it, you know? And feeling it. Every time I close my eyes."

"How did it happen? What the hell? One minute we were eating appetizers, laughing about old times, and the next thing I knew..." Carlene's voice trailed off, unable or unwilling to voice the obvious.

"The next thing you knew we were stripped half-naked, and our tits were laid out on the table like a buffet!" Paula exclaimed, trying to inject humor in the aftermath of her horrifying experience. Her laugh came out hollow.

Carlene wasn’t laughing. “But how? How could something like that even happen? I don't get it. We were all right there. We would have seen someone, heard something. It doesn't make any sense."

“I’ve been going over it all night,” Paula replied. “There’s nothing logical about any of this. I talked to Ginger, and she thinks it’s something supernatural. And honestly, Carlene? I think she might be right. I know how that sounds, but what other explanation is there?”

Carlene blinked. “Supernatural? Paula, come on. There has to be a rational explanation. Maybe someone drugged us, or there was some kind of gas, or—"

“I’m telling you, there’s no other explanation. I mean, listen...” Paula hesitated. Her breathing had become shaky. “There was a note.”

Carlene sat up straighter, her heart beginning to pound. "Huh? Where? What do you mean, a note?"

Paula took a breath, shuddering as she pictured Tommy lifting her skirt and pulling open her panties. “Ugh. Don’t make me say it. It was... it was inside my panties. I found it when I got home. I almost didn't, you know? I was so out of it. I just wanted to shower and forget the whole thing. But there it was.”

Carlene's heart skipped a beat. "Wha, are you serious? Someone put a note in your underwear?"

“Ginger got one too. It was from that kid. The one your aunt stripped to his undies way back when, in the elementary school.”

Carlene felt the blood drain from her face.

"T-Tommy?" she whispered.

For a moment, she could hardly breathe as she considered the implications of what she had just heard.

“Yes. I mean, we all had our fun at his expense that day, but... it’s like he’s back. And he just returned the favor in a big way. That note, Carlene. It was so creepy. He knew exactly what he was doing."

"Oh, my God," Carlene said once again, her mind reeling. After several seconds, she finally managed to ask, “What did the note say?”

"He said he peeked in our panties. Just like we peeked in his. And then he thanked us for the show." Paula's voice cracked slightly. "He signed it 'Love, Tommy.'"

"Oh, my God."

"I know. It's creepy. I feel so violated. I can't stop shaking. My roommate thinks I should go to the police, but what would I even say? That someone magically froze time and took our clothes off? They'd think I was crazy. Maybe I am."

“I don’t blame you for feeling that way,” Carlene said, her voice distant as her own thoughts began spiraling.

“Did you get a note?” Paula asked cautiously.

Carlene hesitated, her throat suddenly dry. "No, no note."

Silence stretched between them.

"But he left his calling card."

"Huh? What? How?"

Carlene’s cheeks flushed with heat, though no one was there to see it. “He... took my panties.”

Paula gasped. “He what? Oh jeez, Carlene. That’s just... okay, Ginger and I were talking, and honestly, there’s got to be a reason he didn’t do to you what he did to the rest of us. You’d have to think he has something else in mind for you, and it can’t be good. You know that, right? He’s saving you for something. The note, the way he singled you out... you need to be careful. Really careful.”

Another silence followed. Carlene felt as though her world was closing in around her.

"I have to go, Paula," she said.

“Okay. Hang in there, Carlene. But seriously... watch your back. Call me if you need anything, okay? Even if it’s just to talk. I don’t think either of us should be alone right now.”

“I will,” Carlene said, feeling little comfort from Paula’s offer.

Carlene ended the call and let her phone fall onto her comforter. Dazed, she stared out her bedroom window, seeing nothing, her mind racing through possibilities she didn't want to consider.

Then, barely audible, she said, “Oh... my... God.”

Again.

She sat there alone, staring into the distance as a growing sense of dread settled over her. Somewhere out there, Tommy was probably smiling.

And Carlene, for the first time in her life, had no idea what to do next.

Chapter 11: Carlene's Frenzied Flight

Carlene lay gloomily on her bed in her dorm room. Her roommate had gone home for the weekend, and while she appreciated the solitude, she really needed to talk to someone. She reached for her phone and called her friend Paula.

“Carlene?” came Paula’s familiar voice. “How are you doing?”

"Well..." Carlene hesitated, her throat tight. "I've been better."

“Uh-oh,” Paula replied, her tone immediately turning concerned. Carlene wasn’t one to mope. For her to sound this down, something had to be seriously wrong.

“He got me,” Carlene said quietly.

"Who?" Then it dawned on her. "Tommy? Say it's not him."

Carlene nodded, even though Paula couldn’t see her. "It was him. Do you have a few minutes? I haven’t told anybody about this, and I need to talk about it with someone. I think talking about it might be therapeutic.”

"Oh, gosh, of course!" Paula exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. What did he do to you?”

Carlene took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, here goes. I flew back here last Sunday afternoon. I was at the airport. I’d been terrified he’d track me down at home after what happened at the restaurant, so I basically hid in my house all week.”

Paula shivered, the humiliating memory of the restaurant still fresh in her own mind. "Oh my God, did he go all the way to your school?"

"No... I'll tell you. Once I got through airport doors, I thought I was home free. I thought I'd finally escaped him, you know? And then..." Her voice cracked, trailing off.

"Take a breath, Carlene. Take your time. I know it's hard. I still have trouble talking about that night."

"Right." Carlene swallowed the lump in her throat. "Well, first off, I can tell you that you and Ginger were right. He has supernatural powers."

"Shit! I knew it!"

“It’s crazy. The guy actually can stop time. That’s what he did when he took all your blouses and bras off. Then he starts it again, and everything just picks up where it left off, except...”

"Except our tits were hanging out for everyone to see," interrupted Paula.

"Exactly. Can you believe this? It's nuts!"

"God, I still have nightmares about that dinner. The way everyone was staring..."

"I know, Paula. I know."

"I still can't wrap my head around it. It's surreal. Preposterous! I can't believe it's even possible."

"Well, it is, that I can assure you," said a convinced Carlene. "I experienced it firsthand."

"So... so what did he do? "Tell me everything."

Carlene took another deep breath. “Well... I'm at the airport. I got there a couple of hours early, just because I was so anxious to get out of Dodge and be free from him. I was standing in the long security line, and then, the next thing I knew..." Again, her voice trailed off.

"No, don't tell me!" exclaimed an animated Paula, though she knew she needed to hear it.

"No, he didn't strip me. Well, I take that back. He did, because the next thing I knew I was standing there wearing just my volleyball uniform."

"Whaaat?" Paula's voice squeaked up an octave.

"Yeah, no shit! It was the weirdest sensation. The first thing I noticed was my bare feet on the cold floor. Oh, and it was just the sports bra and bikini bottom, like the ones we would wear when we played at the beach."

“Oh, my God!” Paula shouted. “You poor thing! At the airport? In front of everyone?”

"In front of hundreds of people, Paula. I mean, normally I would be fine wearing that in the proper setting, but at the airport, with all those people around? It was the most embarrassed I'd ever been in my entire life. Think about it. I'm over six feet tall, so I stand out anyway. But then? My face felt like it was on fire!"

Paula groaned. “I can feel the secondhand embarrassment just picturing it. So what did you do? You must have wanted to die right there."

“Well, that's the thing," Carlene sighed. "My first instinct was to grab my duffel bag and make a run for it to the ladies' room. But then I figured that would bring even more attention to myself. So I tried to act normal, or as normal as you can look in a tiny volleyball uniform, and I reached into my bag to grab a pair of jeans.”

“Which was probably the smartest move,” Paula offered.

“I thought so too. But suddenly there was a bright pink piece of paper sitting on my bag. He left a note."

"Him and his fucking notes!"

"Oh, it wasn't the last note I got that day. Anyway, it said... hold on, I saved them. Don't ask me why."

There was a brief silence while Carlene grabbed several pieces of bright pink paper from the bottom of her underwear drawer.

"It said, 'Don't even THINK about covering up. I want you to get on your flight as you are. Any effort to cover up and you will immediately find yourself completely bare-assed naked. By the way, I hope you like the color of this paper. I picked it out myself, figuring it would match the color of your face right now. Love, Tommy.' That was it."

“Jesus,” Paula gasped, her tone a mix of horror and a sudden, undeniable jolt of excitement. "So you had to go through security dressed like that? The full TSA screening?"

“I had no choice. What else could I do? It was absolute torture, Paula. It took forever, and everyone, I mean everyone was staring at me. Guys were grinning and leering at me without even trying to hide it. The TSAs were having the time of their lives. And my face was flushing so hot, I’m sure it was obvious to everyone that I was embarrassed, which made it even worse. They had to be thinking, ‘Why is she dressed like that if she’s so embarrassed about it?’ Oh, Paula, I’m turning red right now just talking about it.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Paula said. "I know the feeling, trust me. That night at the restaurant, I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out."

“Well, it gets worse.”

“Of course it does.”

“I still had an hour and a half until my flight, so I tried to head for the restroom just to hide in a stall. But right as I pushed open the door, I suddenly was no longer holding my bag. It was off to the side against the wall, and tucked under the strap was another note. Same bright pink paper."

"Oh, jeez. What did it say?"

"Here it is: 'If you have to pee, go ahead. I'll give you three minutes. Then you are to proceed directly to your gate, take a seat and wait for your flight.'"

"I mean... I guess that was generous?" Paula offered weakly.

“I didn’t even need to go, but three minutes in a stall by myself was better than nothing. So I did that. But then I had to make the long walk to the gate. People were snapping pictures, and a group of college guys started following me.”

“How horrible,” Paula said, her pulse racing as she pictured the scene. "So you had to get on your flight like that?"

"Yes, but there's more. I'm sitting in a seat in the waiting area at the gate. Oh, and it was cold. I had goose bumps all over me. Anyway, I'm acting like I'm reading a book, even though I didn't absorb a word. Next thing I know, there’s another note on my lap. I looked around, but I couldn’t see the little fucker. I knew he was looming somewhere, watching me.”

"What, pray tell, did the note say?" asked Paula. Though she sincerely felt for her friend, the mind-boggling tale had her rapt attention.

"Well, it was a long note, so I won't read you the whole thing. But I told you about those college guys that were following me. There were four of them, and they had been standing over by a pillar, pretty much staring at me the whole time I was sitting there. Anyway, the note said to go over there and engage them. He told me exactly what I had to say. It wasn't good. It said I had to pull my sports bra up and expose my breasts to them, counting out ‘one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi’ before I was allowed to cover back up.”

“Oh my God! Did you actually do it?” asked Paula anxiously.

“Well, at first I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I started to get up, but when I looked over there, I couldn’t bring myself to go, and I sat right back down.”

"I don't blame you! So what happened next? Did you get another note?"

“No. It was worse. I was suddenly completely naked. It only lasted for about a second, and then I had the volleyball uniform on again. It happened so fast, I don’t think anyone saw it. If they did, they probably thought it was their imagination.”

"Holy shit! I guess you got the message."

"Loud and clear. II figured if I didn’t do what he said, I'm sure I'd be sitting there naked again, only next time it might last longer. So I forced myself to get up, walk over there, and say what he told me to say.”

"Which was?"

Carlene was too consumed by her own humiliation to notice, but Paula, to her surprise, was becoming increasingly titillated by Carlene's account. She would have thought her own experience would have made listening to Carlene difficult, but in fact it seemed to be having the opposite effect.

“I said, and I had to say it exactly as he wrote it, ‘I saw you guys staring at me. Just so you know, I am deeply embarrassed by the way I’m dressed. This is not my choice. I am being punished for being a very bad girl.’ It was awful, Paula. My face was burning, and I couldn’t look them in the eyes. I just stared straight down. Then I had to say, ‘Part of my punishment is that I have to show you my tits. Would you guys mind?’”

"Get out! I'm guessing they wouldn't mind," said Paula, actually stifling a giggle.

"No, of course not. They just stood there with these shit-eating grins. So... so I lifted the sports bra up to my neck and forced myself to count out three full seconds.”

"No! Those three seconds must have felt like a lifetime!"

"Ohhh, it was awful, Paula. They just gaped at me. One of them even snapped a photo right before I yanked my top back down and ran to my seat."

"Oh, Carlene..."

“I know. Thank God none of them were on my flight.”

“So then what?” Paula asked, completely captivated. “Was that the end of it?”

"So then it was time to board. I thought for sure he was done. No way he would be on my flight."

"And?" asked Paula. A small part of her was hoping there was more to the story.

"So I got on the plane. I never got used to the stares, or the grins. And I got stuck with the middle seat. The woman in the aisle seat, a professional-looking woman in her forties, looked me up and down and said, ‘Aren’t you cold?’ She had a smile on her face.

Paula snorted. “She must have been enjoying it.”

“I just brushed past her without a word. The last thing I wanted was small talk with my seatmates."

"Was Tommy on the plane?" Carlene didn’t hear the growing heat in Paula’s tone.

"I'll get to that. I was looking around before I sat down, scanning the faces, terrified I’d spot him. There were three or four guys who could have been his age, but I couldn't be certain. One of them wore a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes, so I couldn't really see his face. I kept telling myself I was just being paranoid. No way would he follow me three states away."

“Who had the window seat?”

"It was a guy. Young. Right around Tommy's age back when... back when we did what we did to him. The second I sat down, I could tell he was shocked by my... by my lack of clothing, and he was way too interested in looking. He kept glancing over at me, then looking away, only to sneak another look a few seconds later, like he couldn’t help himself."

"He probably felt like Christmas came early." Paula giggled. "Sorry. So was that it? Was the flight uneventful?"

"Not by a long shot. About a half hour into the flight, I had convinced myself that Tommy had gone back home, so I reached into my bag and pulled out my jeans and a sweater. I stood up to go to the bathroom and get dressed, but then..."

"Uh-oh, what?" asked Paula with bated breath.

“Then... my top was sitting right on the lap of the guy next to me.”

"Holy shit! You were half-naked!"

Carlene remained completely oblivious to Paula's growing arousal, to the way her friend's hand had begun wandering beneath the waistband of her workout pants. Paula had intentionally found ways to insert the word "naked" into the conversation.

“Yes! I snatched it from his lap, sat down, and threw it back on as fast as I could. Oh God, Paula, it was awful. The woman and the kid both had their mouths hanging open in total shock. I just sat there with my arms crossed over my chest. My face... my face burning hotter than it ever has in my life.”

“You poor thing,” Paula consoled her. She felt the dampness over her panties as she caressed her loins. A tinge of guilt surfaced as she derived pleasure from her friend’s humiliation, but the sensation was too powerful, too consuming to resist.

"So then what happened? “Did he strip you again?” asked Paula, hoping to add fuel to her internal fire.

Carlene sighed. “Unfortunately. I guess he was punishing me for trying to put my jeans on in the first place. A couple of minutes later... boom. I was sitting there topless again. And my sports bra was nowhere in sight."

"Oh my!" Paula gasped, her hand moving more fervently beneath her clothing. "You were almost naked again!"

“I know!” Carlene wailed, still completely oblivious to her friend's state of arousal. “I tried not to panic, because I didn't want to bring any more attention to myself, so I just sat there with my arms crossed over my chest while I looked around for my top. Oh, my heart was pounding..."

"Didn't your seatmates notice that you were half-naked?" Paula's pleasure increased whenever she used the word, her fingers now sliding inside her panties.

“Oh, they noticed. The kid was in heaven. He probably hadn't seen bare breasts in person since he sucked on his mommy's nipple when he was a baby. He couldn't stop staring, couldn't wipe that stupid grin off his face. And the woman... I could tell she was loving every second of it. She had this look in her eyes, and she was smiling. What's up with that? Why would anyone get off on someone else's humiliation?"

"I have no idea," replied Paula, her hips writhing against her bed as her thumb found her clitoris.

“Anyway,” Carlene continued, “the woman finally points across the aisle and says, ‘Is that what you’re looking for?’ My fucking sports bra was hanging halfway out of the overhead bin!”

“Nooo.”

"Yes! I was too terrified to stand up in front of the whole cabin, so I asked if she could please get it for me. And do you know what she said?”

“What?” Paula asked, now thoroughly immersed in the story.

"She says, 'Sure, as soon as I finish my crackers.' Can you believe that shit?"

"No, that's insane," Paula said, barely managing to stifle another giggle that emerged more as a moan.

“Anyway, this bitch sits there and daintily eats her fucking crackers while I sit there frantic as hell, just hoping no one else would see me. I'm pleading with her, but she just ignores me and keeps on eating. At one point she looks at me and asks me where I'm from. Like we were just going to have a normal conversation while I'm sitting there fucking topless? It's like she was taunting me. I didn't answer, and she giggles to herself and goes back to eating her crackers."

Paula pressed her cheek into her pillow, fighting to hold back her laughter.

"Finally, she calmly gets up, opens the compartment, and pulls out the bra. She holds it up, dangling from her fingers, and says, ‘Does this belong to you?’ Just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.”

“And everyone turned to look, didn’t they?”

“They did! And they were amused! Like it was a show!”

“I just don’t understand people sometimes,” Paula said. “It's like they took pleasure in seeing you half-naked, when it was obvious you were in distress.”

She moaned quietly to herself as she waited eagerly for the story to continue.

“Right? I don't get it," Carlene said, shaking her head as she spoke. "Anyway, this bitch has a smirk on her face as she hands me the sports bra.”

"Did anything else happen on the plane?" Paula asked hopefully.

"No, but here comes the kicker. I might have a little trouble talking about this one."

But I won't have any trouble listening. Please, don't stop now!

"Get it all out, Carlene. Like you said, it's probably therapeutic."

"I hope so. So here goes. I'm walking through the baggage claim area, on my way out to catch a cab and get the hell out of there. Next thing I know, I'm in darkness, complete and total blackness, and I'm sitting on something moving, something mechanical. I had no idea what was going on, Paula. It was terrifying. Then, I suddenly realized that, wherever I was, I was completely naked!"

"Wait, Carlene... could you repeat that last part? You cut out," Paula lied.

“I said I was completely naked! And moving, being carried along by something I couldn't see. Then I see daylight ahead, and realize I’m on the luggage conveyor belt! The one that feeds right out onto the carousel!”

"Are you shitting me? And you were completely naked?"

Paula's excitement was palpable, her voice trembling with arousal. She was now massaging her vagina in earnest, her fingers moving feverishly.

"I shit you not. I could see a whole bunch of people out there waiting for their luggage to start dropping down, so I tried to crawl backward into the tunnel, but... it was really slippery."

A loud, helpless moan slipped past Paula's lips before she could catch it.

"And then I realized why it was so slippery," Carlene continued, oblivious. "My whole body was covered with some kind of lubricant. I'm pretty sure it was baby oil. I could smell it, and I could feel it all over my skin.”

"Oh! Oh, God!"

"Yes! Oh, it was awful, Paula! There was so much of it that it was dripping off me. He must have used the whole bottle. Anyway, it was so slippery, I couldn't stop myself, and I slid right through the rubber flaps and down into the carousel, completely naked in front of all those people!"

"Oh, Carlene!" Paula moaned, now on the verge of ecstasy, her body tensing with approaching release.

"I know! After I slid down, I tried to climb out, but I was so slick from all the oil that I kept slipping back down! I was stuck on the carousel, and everyone was laughing hysterically while I went around and around, trying to get out."

"Oh, Carlene!" Paula moaned louder. "And you were naked!"

"I was completely naked, and I was helpless! It was so humiliating!"

"Ohhhhhhhhh!" Paula screamed as she experienced an orgasm unlike any she had ever had before, sparked by the vivid image of her friend's total public undoing.

"I know! Oh, thank you for your support, Paula. I can see you understand how I felt."

"You have no idea," said a completely satiated Paula.

"So I finally managed to tumble out of the carousel," continued Carlene, unabated. "And that's when I saw him."

“You saw Tommy?” Paula asked. She was still interested, but not nearly as invested as she had been a few moments earlier.

"Yes. He was the guy in the baseball cap I was telling you about. Anyway, he was standing about twenty yards away next to a luggage cart, holding my bag, my clothes, everything I needed. He just stood there watching me. I had to get my clothes, but every time I tried to stand, my knees slipped out from under me because of the oil. So... I had to crawl to him on my hands and knees. Naked and dripping in baby oil, in front of everyone. Talk about humiliation!"

Paula’s eyes glazed slightly. “Oh, my goodness!” she said, her voice carrying renewed interest. Despite her recent climax, she felt a growing excitement as she pictured her friend, glistening with oil and crawling naked on all fours across the airport floor.

"I know! "He just stood there with this infuriating grin," Carlene said. "When I finally reached his shoes, he handed me my bag and said he was done with me for now and that I could get dressed."

"For now?" Paula repeated. "So he's not done with you?"

“I don’t know,” said Carlene uneasily. “It’s been a week. I guess he went back home.” Carlene paused, unable to shake the feeling that this wasn’t over yet. “Anyway, thanks for listening, Paula. I really do feel a little better after talking to you.”

"The pleasure was all mine, Carlene," Paula replied. "Truly."

What kind of security does that airport have, where none of the airline employees or officers notice anything. Cany Tommy
make people go blind as well...lol.

I'm also curious if Tommy is still suffering from a case of "little dick" syndrome, or if he outgrew it.
That makes me think of another story idea. A boy with a bad case of "Penis Envy" (who happens to have some super-powers) takes it out on his classmates who are well endowed. Wrong side of the site for that idea, but it just came to me, inspired by this story.

You really have a great imagination and I love these stories! I hope that there will be a moment when the girls find out that Tommy's penis has not grown at all and a huge bush covers his manhood completely. It would also be funny if one of the girls had a comically big bush!