Pantsing and Stripping Forums

Chapter 5: Blondie: My First Experience in Humiliation, Part 3 of 4

I’ll tell you more about my experiences with Johnny Boy, but I thought I’d get back to Blondie’s account of the night of my thirteenth birthday. This part chronicles my alone time with him in Becky’s bedroom—an experience I’m quite sure neither of us will ever forget.

The next hour would prove to be nearly unbearable.

Ah, yes—that would be the hour when I had Blondie all to myself in the bedroom. I remember feeling very titillated in anticipation.

With extreme apprehension over what lay in store for me, I sat on the bed. My feet dangled above the carpet, making it easier for her to kneel and begin with my shoes.
“Isn’t this great, Blondie?” she said sweetly while fiddling with the buckles. “Just the two of us? It’ll really give us a chance to get to know each other, don’t you think?”

It amused me, speaking to him like we were just casually getting acquainted—like we were on a date, even—when we both knew he was about to be dragged deeper into the depths of his humiliation. I was dead set on engaging him, even though he clearly wanted no part of it.

I remained silent. The last thing I felt like doing during this godawful experience was engaging in conversation with this fiend. But she had other ideas. She stood up and pointed her index finger at my face.
“Now listen, Blondie, when I speak to you I expect the courtesy of a response. In case you haven’t noticed, there are two of us in this room, and I don’t plan on carrying on a monologue.”
“Do you understand me?”

Similar to a mother talking to her child. Being three years his junior, I really delighted in playing the authority figure.

She kneeled back down and went to work on the shoes and socks. She picked up right where she left off. “So, tell me a little bit about yourself.”
Both shoes were off now, and she deliberately began rolling one of the anklets down my foot.

He's right, I pulled his sock down very deliberately. I was having such a great time, and I wanted to draw out his stripping as long as I could. Great for me, miserable for him. A win/win.

She pulled the dress completely off and left me standing there in the petticoat, face burning.
She stepped in front of me and gazed at me, grinning widely. “How delightful. You really do blush like a little girl.”

I really enjoyed looking him up and down right there, with him knowing I was ogling him. He saw me grinning at him and he squirmed under my gaze, while his cheeks flushed deliciously—it was just enchanting.

Putting both hands on my shoulders, she eased the straps of the petticoat down my biceps, starting its leisurely descent. “Tell me about your experience with my sister in her store at the mall. I heard such delicious things.”
“W-what do you want to know?” I was stalling. I really didn’t want to relive that humiliation, especially under those circumstances.
“Everything,” she answered fer

How cool is that? While getting methodically stripped—out of girl's clothes, no less—I made him recount one of the most humiliating experiences he's ever gone through. I delighted in his downcast eyes and his blushing cheeks as he forced himself to relive the experience.

The petticoat was now at my waist, leaving me bare-chested. Felicity knelt to continue with matters at hand. I looked down to see the garment pulled further down, exposing the frilly panties. Felicity had an impassioned look on her face. She looked like she was having the time of her young life.

He is so right. I was getting more and more charged up by the second.

As Felicity stood up, she prodded me on. “Go ahead, you tried on a bra and…?” She tossed the petticoat on the bed and stood back and grinned wickedly at me.

Grinned wickedly. I just love that. And I'm glad he noticed.

As Felicity stood up, she prodded me on. “Go ahead, you tried on a bra and…?”
“Panties,” I said, very quietly.[/]

He had trouble saying it. Adorable. When he did, I just loved it. The word sounded so delicious coming from him.

“Go like this.” She made two fists and put both hands on her hips, elbows pointing to the sides. I struck the pose.
She walked around me slowly, drinking it all in. “Oh my. Look at you. Just adorable. But.…” She trailed a finger down my tummy, stopping at the waistband. “….these are going to have to come off so you can model your next outfit.”
She reached for the waistband of the panties, studying me intently. She got the reaction she wished for as I involuntarily retracted my hips, eliciting a knowing smile from her lips.

I wasn't sure how he would react when I went for the panties. I mean, he was certainly embarrassed to be wearing a pair of ruffled panties. But when he retracted his hips like that, he confirmed that it was better than the alternative. He really didn't want me to see him naked, which made the foreplay ever more exciting.

“Hmm, how shall we do this? Shall I take them down, or would you like to do it yourself?”

I was just messing around there. I really wanted to do the deed myself, and I wasn't going to let him deprive me of that pleasure, no matter what he answered. But I was pretty sure he didn't have the guts to take them down right then and there.

“What’s the big deal? I’ve already looked down your panties and saw your little thingy, remember? I told you it looked just like my little brother Joey’s, except you have hair.” I was blushing crimson now, and she went in for the kill. “And the more you blush, the more fun I have"

I was teasing him there, but it really was true. That's one of the reasons Blondie is my favorite victim. I know exactly which buttons to push, and I can make him blush at will. It's so precious, and it never gets old for me. Every time I make him blush I feel a twinge of excitement all over. I really feel so fortunate that I have someone like him at my beck and call.

Felicity grasped the hem on each side with her fingers, and held them there, teasing me. She looked up expectantly. “It’s time, Blondie. It’s the moment we’ve been waiting for. Isn’t this fun?” I had no answer. “I’m doing all the talking now, Blondie, and I don’t appreciate it. Now, be a good boy and ask me nicely to take down your panties.”

One of my favorite humiliation techniques is to force my victim to beg for something that is the last thing on earth he or she wants to happen. They know it's going to happen regardless—then to make them beg for it just rubs salt in the wound.

I nearly choked on the words, but somehow I got them out. “Would you please take down my panties?”

His voice cracked in such a delectable way as he forced himself to say that, especially when he uttered the word "panties." Precious.

“Why certainly, sweetheart,” she replied with pleasure in her voice. “Would you kindly put your hands behind your head so I can do that for you?”

The hands behind the head position is, of course, a classic pose that I relish using on my naked victims. Blondie wouldn't be able to cover himself when I pulled down his panties, knowing there would be repercussions if he dared try. For me, it’s the ultimate show of power. Their vulnerability is enhanced, and it strengthens my superiority and their submissiveness. The vision of them standing helplessly naked before me in that pose is awe-inspiring.

I hesitated, then interlocked my fingers and raised my arms, exposed and completely vulnerable. My sense of dread was extreme.
Felicity took a long, slow look at me, then smiled. She was ready to do the dirty deed. “Okay, here we go, are you ready? On three: One… two…” Then she stopped and stepped back.

I stepped back because I had an inspiration, one I look forward to telling you about.

Chapter 6: Johnny Boy: Homeroom Humiliation

After taking my seat directly behind Johnny in homeroom, I didn't wait long to have some fun with my newfound victim. The daily announcements had barely begun droning over the intercom when I scribbled down a little note, folded it, and quietly slid my desk as close to his as I could. There was a gap between his seat and the back of his chair, making it convenient for me to reach down and wedge the note between his tucked in tee shirt and the back of his jeans.

Johnny jerked forward at the intrusion before reaching back and extricating the note from his jeans. I could almost feel the heat from his blush when he opened the note, which read:

What color are your underpants?

The back of his neck was all red. He just sat there, probably not knowing how to proceed. So I wrote another note and again stuck it in the back of his jeans. It said:

Please answer my question. You can write it down and put it where I did.

Again Johnny pulled the paper from the back of his jeans and opened it up. This time, after a few moments of contemplation he scribbled something and inserted it behind his back. Grinning at his compliance, I reached down and pulled it out. It said:

Black

My next note was short and bold:

I'd like to see.

No reply. So naturally, I took matters into my own hands—literally. I leaned forward and started tugging his tee shirt out of his jeans. He instinctively reached back and pushed my hand away. I wasn’t about to let that fly. I furiously wrote another note and shoved it down the back of his jeans with authority:

If you EVER touch me again without my permission then those pictures my sister and her friends took will be all over the school. I’m afraid I’ll have to punish you now, Johnny.

I let him mull that one over for a minute before delivering another note:

I'd like you to lift the back of your shirt up and keep it pinned to the back of your chair.

Much to my delight, after a long pause he reached back and lifted his shirt up. It was only his back, but I was a bit titillated to watch him expose his smooth skin at my behest. There was a cute little dimple on the small of his back that I found enchanting. And the control I now felt over him was seductive.

I deposited another note, right over that dimple:

That's a good boy, Johnny. Now undo your belt and your jeans. Unzip them all the way—I want them nice and loose so I can examine your undies properly.

I knew he would have a problem with that, so while he was reading I gave him a quick follow-up note:

NOW!

I could tell by his retracting elbows that he was reaching for his belt. I was grinning triumphantly. I wished I could see his face, but my vivid imagination told me what it looked like, and the image was delicious.

He furtively looked to both sides before carrying on. When he was done I reached forward with both hands and effortlessly lowered the tops of his jeans to his seat, and there they were: white briefs. So much for “black.”

I glanced to my left. The girl beside me was openly watching, her eyes wide and amused. When our gazes met I winked at her, and she grinned even wider. I made a mental note to have a conversation with her, thinking she could possibly help me in my endeavors as a humiliator.

It was time for another note. I took pleasure in pulling out his underpants—just far enough to see the top of his crack. His body tensed, but he didn’t try to stop me. I held it there for a few extra seconds, which served dual purposes: 1) It was a delectable display for me—and the girl on my left, no doubt—and 2) It had to be excruciating for Johnny, who probably was cringing with embarrassment.

My favorite part of that moment was when he took a nervous look back and realized that the girl on my left was taking it all in—and really enjoying it. Before he turned back I was able to observe his profusely blushing face. It was awesome!

I shoved the note as far down his underpants as I could and let the band snap back. I giggled as he reached in and fumbled around while trying to pull it out. The note read:

Was little Johnny too embarrassed to admit that he still wears his tighty-whities? You lied to me, Johnny Boy, and I'm very disappointed in you. I'm afraid you're going to have to be punished.

I quickly wrote another note and stuffed it in his underpants. Johnny obediently extracted it, undoubtedly dreading whatever I had in store for him. The note read:

I want you to lift up your bum. Don’t sit down until I tap your shoulder.

While watching him intently, I reached into my backpack and pulled out a banana. I was going to have it for a snack later, but I had an idea for its usage that far outweighed any desire to keep it for myself. Besides, it was turning brown and would be a little on the mushy side for my tastes.

As I swiftly peeled the banana and broke it off at the bottom, Johnny lifted his bum as directed. Grinning, I leaned forward, pulled out the elastic of Johnny's underpants and inserted the banana lengthwise, making sure it was wedged between his cheeks. I let the elastic snap back, tapped him on the shoulder, and sat back smugly.

The girl on my left was trembling with silent laughter.

We watched as Johnny slowly lowered himself back into his seat. I'm sure it doesn't take keen insight on the reader's part to picture the rearrangement of the newly added contents inside Johnny's underpants, or to imagine what it felt like for the poor boy. Let me put it this way: After his up close and personal encounter with the squishy substance, Johnny probably never looked at a banana in quite the same way from that day forward. (giggle)

The bell rang sharply. Johnny flinched, then cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at me, his eyes flicking downward to his rumpled jeans. I grinned, utterly delighted by his obedience. Without a word, I picked up my pen and calmly wrote one final note. When I held it out to him, he snatched it from my hand like his life depended on it. It read:

You can tidy up now, Johnny Boy. I'll be in touch. Love, Felicity

He hastily yanked up his jeans and buckled up, then shot up like a jack-in-the-box and fled the room.

“Guess he didn’t want to stick around and chit-chat,” the girl beside me said, wiping a tear of laughter from her cheek.

I turned to her, grinning. “Hi, I’m Felicity.”

“Andrea,” she replied, shaking my hand. She was tall and pretty, of Latin descent. “That was hilarious. How in the world did you get him to let you do that?”

I explained the situation with the photos. As the story unfolded, her eyes sparkled.

“Oh my gosh, I’m jealous! You’re going to have so much fun with John.”

"You know his name. Are you guys friends?" I asked out of curiosity.

“We went to the same middle school, but we weren’t friends or anything. I always thought he was cute, but he’s shy. Never gave me the time of day.” She smirked. “So it was really cool when you had part of his cute little butt exposed and he looked back at me, all embarrassed. He was paying attention to me then," said Andrea with a giggle.

"I noticed," I giggled. "When he realized you were aware of his.....of his condition (giggle)....his face was glowing like a red neon sign."

We both laughed. We were becoming fast friends, with a common bond.

It was at that point that I made an important decision in my quest to be a humiliator. I know I had told Julie that I wanted to go solo whenever I got the chance to strip and humiliate Johnny for the first time. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that his humiliation would be intensified with another witness—especially a female witness. And Andrea was taking more than a little interest in the situation.

As we stepped into the hallway and were about to part ways, I called out, “Wait.”

She turned back, head tilted, eyes hopeful.

“I still have a few things in mind for our friend Johnny,” I said with a mischievous grin. “Would you be interested in—”

“YES!” she blurted excitedly before I could finish.

I laughed. “Alrighty then. I’ll be in touch.”

We exchanged numbers before heading to class—me, with potentially a new partner in humiliation.

Chapter 7: Blondie: My First Experience in Humiliation, Part 4 of 4

When I last left you in the Blondie saga on my thirteenth birthday, he was perched nervously on a stool, hands behind his head, clad in nothing but a pair of panties—a delicious image forever etched in my brain—slightly trembling in anticipation of being stripped naked. My level of anticipation was probably equal to his, only on the other side of the spectrum. Here is more of Blondie's account from the Pantsing and Stripping Forums site, along with my input:

“Well then....it would be special if you could sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me while your panties are coming down. Will you do that for me, Blondie?”
I groaned inwardly, but I nodded resignedly. What else could I do?
"Oh, goodie!" she squealed while clapping her hands with delight and giving an excited little bounce. I felt like I was submitting to a ten-year-old girl.
She poised her fingers on the hems of the panties again, looking up like a kid at Christmas. “Whenever you’re ready, Blondie….”
There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. I closed my eyes tightly and began to sing.

Just think about it: Blondie was about to be stripped bare by a 13-year-old girl, he had to beg for it to happen, and now he had to sing to me for my pleasure. I really must give myself a little pat on the back for that brilliant inspiration.

And oh, that moment when I put my fingers inside the band of his panties, he flinched—just a little—but enough to send a delicious thrill through me. I loved the feel of his smooth, vulnerable skin under my fingertips, knowing I was about to unveil all of it….slowly, deliberately, until he was standing there completely naked, trembling with embarrassment. Utterly, irresistibly delicious.

♬“Happy birthday to you.”♬ I felt the panties begin their inexorable descent.
“Sing it slower!” she urged. She was really getting caught up in the moment.

I have to say that my heart was beating a mile a minute at that point. I could barely contain myself.

♬ “Happy birthday to you.”♬
The panties were now slipping past my penis. Felicity giggled with delight. It was all I could do to keep my hands on my head.

I absolutely was giggling with delight when I slipped his panties down and first exposed his little penis, knowing that he knew I was staring at his shortcoming that undoubtedly caused him anxiety. Oh, and did I tell you that he was singing?

♬ “Happy birthday, dear Felicity...”♬
The panties were at my knees, beyond the point of return. I opened my eyes to a squint and looked down at a girl who was nearly beside herself in youthful, jubilant ecstasy.
♬ “Happy birthday to you.”♬ The panties pooled at my ankles. Felicity stepped back and fervently clapped her hands with glee.
“Bravo, Blondie! Bravo!” she squealed with delight.

I was so excited! It really was a spontaneous, genuine cheer. I think I was actually jumping up and down. I mean, I was looking at my first naked boy (my little brother doesn't count), standing there red-faced and mortified against his will, and all because of me. He had his fingers interlaced behind his head, blushing up a storm while standing at attention like a good little plaything, because he knew he had to obey me. So yes—of course I was excited!

Felicity grinned wickedly at me for a few seconds. I stood there on the stool, still bent over at the waist. Without a word, she lifted one of my legs, then the other, freeing the panties from my feet. I was now completely naked and at her mercy. She dropped the panties on the floor and reached out for my hand.
“Come, sweetie, let’s chitchat over on the bed for a while.”
My torture at the hands of this cruel little girl was going to carry on.

Yes, I enjoyed reading how he called me wicked and cruel. I mean, those are traits of a good humiliator, right? And his phrase "completely naked and at her mercy" really struck a pleasant chord for me. I think I'm really in my element when I have someone completely naked and at my mercy.

When I have someone naked and at my mercy—can you tell I enjoy saying that?—I do enjoy carrying on dialogue with them. As embarrassed as they are, with me teasing them and forcing them to engage in conversation with me, it really can ratchet up the humiliation. For example:

“Tell me about Mitch.” I flinched, which did not go unnoticed. She pounced on the moment.
“I hear he’s into both girls and boys. Is that true?”

Another one of Blondie’s most adorable traits is that he absolutely cannot hide his emotions from me—no matter how hard he tries. His body language always betrays him. A tiny twitch, a quick glance, the slightest little flinch—like when I casually mentioned Mitch—never slips past me.

And of course, there’s that telltale blush of his. It's like a flashing neon sign that screams, “I’m so embarrassed!”

“Y-Yes, I think that’s true.”
“I hear he likes you, Blondie.”
I didn't reply.
“Is that true? Is he hot for you, Blondie? Do you think he wants to get inside your panties?”
“Please, I don't.…”
She leaned in. “You know it’s true, don’t you? That’s why he’s here tonight—just to see you, right?” She smirked and pointed at the babydoll nightie draped over a nearby chair. “Mitch is going to be so excited to see you in that, isn’t he, Blondie?”

Talking about Mitch made Blondie considerably uncomfortable. Mitch is openly bisexual, on the aggressive side, and didn't hide his interest in Blondie. Blondie is straight and not at all interested. Under the circumstances of Blondie's current state of submission, the potential humiliating consequences loomed large. And, of course, I had no problem exploiting that possibility.

Mitch will be very excited to see you in your sexy little babydoll.” She grinned at me, then glanced down at my legs. “It’ll really show off those pretty legs of yours.”
She released one of my hands and ran her fingers slowly down my thigh. “Mm, so smooth. He’s going to love your silky, slender legs. Don’t you think so, Blondie?”
“Oh God, please, no…”

I must say I really did enjoy caressing his smooth skin. And it was plain for me to see that he was quite self-conscious about his hairless legs. I found them quite fetching, and his self-consciousness only added to my stimulation.

She kept stroking, trailing her fingers up toward my hip. “How did your legs get so smooth, Blondie ? Did you shave them?”
“No…I, uh…please, I’d rather not talk about it.”
She lifted my arm and gave it the same treatment, sliding her fingers up and down. “And such smooth, girlie arms. Pretty, pretty,” she teased, dragging out the t sound with a musical taunt. I fidgeted under her touch, feeling increasingly more uncomfortable.
Then she lifted my arm high, zeroing in on my hairless armpit. “And your underarms are nice and smooth, too. How lovely.”
She lowered my arm and looked me straight in the eye. “Tell me how’d you got so pretty, Blondie.”
“B-Becky and Brenda did it to me,” I muttered.

Ah, I finally got the story of why he was so hairless. I only wished I could have been at the scene to lend a hand. Imagining that scene really excites me.

“Oh, and what a wonderful job they did!” she sang.
She looked at my pubic hair, then reached down and gently tugged on a few strands, causing me to flinch. “Why did they leave your hair down here?” I didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead, praying she’d move on.
But of course, she didn’t. “Shall we get rid of it now?”
“NO!” I cried, my eyes widening in horror.
That was probably a critical mistake. Her smile stretched slowly across her face. She’d struck a nerve, and we both knew it. She left it alone for the moment, but I had a haunting feeling it was something she would revisit.

Very, perceptive, Blondie. (giggle)

Her gaze flicked back down, and her grin turned impish. “Don’t you think you’re a little small down there for a sixteen-year-old?”
I fidgeted some more, much to her delight. She knew which buttons to push.
“I told you about Joey, my ten-year-old brother. I saw his little wee-wee the other day, and yours is as small as his.” That was at least the third time she had reminded me of that unpleasant piece of information—and it was getting more humiliating each time.

That's an easy tactic for me, and one I always enjoy and utilize whenever I can. If the boy has an undersized penis like Blondie's, you know he is embarrassed about it. When I focused on it and teased him about it while trying to draw him into the conversation, he got all flustered and was blushing ever so adorably. Naked and blushing. It just doesn't get any better than that.

“Have you ever measured yourself down there? It can’t be more than a couple of inches.”
“No…please.” I was staring at the floor, unable to make eye contact with the little devil.
“Look at me, Blondie.” I hesitated, then forced myself to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dancing with delight.
“Aren’t you embarrassed to show the other boys your little wee-wee?”
“I don’t know….please, can we talk about something else?”

I was ready to talk about something else. And he wasn't going to like it.

“Tell me the story about the auditorium.”

The reader might remember the scene I'm referring to that Julie told me about, probably my favorite scene of something I wasn't involved in. It was when Blondie was fourteen, and Julie's friend Marcia (along with Mitch) made him do a slow strip in the dark auditorium during the school play. They got him completely nude, and he had to be in a panic, wondering if he would get his clothes back before the lights came on. He was essentially molested by Mitch and Marcia with the whole (unknowing) student body surrounding him. I have gotten myself off fantasizing about that scene on more than one occasion, so making Blondie talk about it was quite stimulating.

“You mean you were naked among all those people in the auditorium?”
I nodded, my eyes locked on the bedspread. “But….it was dark,” I offered weakly.
“I heard something about a flashlight. Did Marcia really make you shine a flashlight on your little pee-pee?”

What a creative idea that was on Marcia's part to use the flashlight. Then to make him hold it and focus it on his little weenie? That was a stroke of genius.

“Yes,” I whispered.
“Ooh, I wish I could have been there, it sounds delicious! Weren’t you just freaking out?”
“It w-wasn’t fun,” I muttered. "Please, you know the story.”
“The story goes that you didn’t have any hair down there back then. Is that true, Blondie, was the light shining on your hairless little wee-wee?”
I felt my face flush hotter. “I don’t remember,” I lied (it was true).

Once again, the mention of hairlessness embarrassed him to no end. I was ready to go in for the kill.

She pointed between my legs. “Shall we remove that unsightly hair before we go out there, sweetie?”
My eyes snapped wide again. “Please, no….” I begged.
“Ah,” she sang. “Touched a nerve again, didn’t I? Well, you know, I don’t have any hair on my privates, so it’s only fair that you don’t, either.”
She paused, eyeing me for a reaction. There was none. I was still stunned by the latest turn in the conversation.

I thought it would intensify his humiliation if he knew that he was being controlled by someone who hadn't yet reached puberty. And his pubic hair, which was the only remaining evidence of his own emergence of adolescence—the size of his genitals certainly didn't qualify (giggle)—was being severely threatened. His state of apprehension was increasing ever so deliciously.

“Doesn’t that surprise you, Blondie? After all, I’m thirteen now. Most girls have reached puberty before that. Not I. Physically, I have the body of an eleven-year-old. I'm probably emotionally immature, too, if I'm being honest. But I’ve been told that intellectually I’m as smart as a lot of college students.”
I was in no mood to listen to her self-assessment. And the fact that she had the body of an eleven-year-old somehow only made my abject submission to her that much more humiliating. Which, now that I think about it, is probably the reason she was telling me. Like I said before, she was perceptive beyond her years.

Thanks for the compliment, Blondie. You were getting to know me quite well.

In any case, I had to try to appeal to her, hoping she had at least one ounce of compassion.
“Felicity, I’m begging you, please, please let me keep my pubic hair. I’ll do anything, but please don’t do that to me.”

Of course, his pleas were to go unheeded. No way was I letting that opportunity pass me by.

* * * * *

I’ll try to get around to telling you about that wonderful experience, but I’m anxious to fill you in on how we humiliated Johnny Boy near his favorite tree. Please stay tuned; I’ll write that up for you as soon as I can.

Chapter 8: Johnny Boy: Stripped to Underpants

On the same morning that I humiliated Johnny Boy in homeroom, I received a text from Andrea in between second and third periods. She asked if we could meet during lunch to discuss something. We agreed to meet at a table in the cafeteria.

"I hope you don't mind," said Andrea in between bites of her salad, "But I mentioned our little arrangement to a good friend of mine."

"Oh, no worries," I responded.

"Great, I didn't think so," she said. "Her name is Natalie. She also knows John—er, Johnny—from middle school. Anyway, I wanted to ask you—would it be okay for her to join us when we do whatever we're going to do to Johnny?"

I didn't have to think long about this request. Just like adding Andrea into the equation, another person involved would likely add to Johnny's humiliation. "Sure, I don't see why not," I answered.

"Awesome," said Andrea. "Natalie will be thrilled. And she might be a great addition, because she thinks Johnny had a little thing for her. She said she caught him staring at her a few times. She thought he was cute and tried to talk to him a couple of times, but he was tongue-tied."

"Well, maybe we can loosen him up a little bit. Or at least loosen up his pants," I said as we both laughed.

As if on cue, Andrea perked up and waved. "Hey, Natalie! Over here!"

I could see why Johnny would stare at her. She was a very attractive brunette—almost stunning in her beauty. She was tall—well, I guess almost everyone seemed tall next to me—with an athletic build and well-toned muscles. I remember thinking that if Johnny ever required physical restraint that she would be the one for the job.

"Natalie, I'd like you to meet Felicity," offered Andrea.

We shook hands and I said, "Nice to meet you, Natalie. Please, have a seat. We were just talking about you." Natalie looked at Andrea, then back at me hopefully. "Andrea tells me that you would like to join us and have a little fun with Johnny," I continued.

"Oh, that would be awesome, if it's okay with you," she said. "When Andrea told me what you were doing to him in homeroom.....well, let's just say I was very jealous that I wasn't there."

"Yes," I laughed. "It was quite entertaining." I paused momentarily. "Sure, I'd love to have you aboard. The only thing I ask of both of you is to allow me to be in control. Feel free to follow my lead and jump in, but ultimately I would like to call the shots."

"Absolutely," said Andrea. "I've seen you in action and you certainly know how to embarrass a boy." The three of us laughed.

"No worries," chimed in Natalie. "From what Andrea described to me, we'll have a lot of fun following your lead."

"Great," I said. With our mischievous little trio now assembled, I glanced at the clock. "Hey, we still have a few minutes before the bell goes off. I know where Johnny usually hangs out. What say we go introduce ourselves."

"Great idea!" said Andrea, and the three of us sprung from our seats and headed outside.

I was quite pleased—and somewhat surprised, considering what happened to him there recently—to see Johnny in his usual spot under the tree. He was sitting down with his back against the tree. He had a friend with him. I took note of the friend, who was quite handsome.

"Hmm, I might have to keep this boy in mind for future use," I remember thinking.

Johnny saw us coming, and he jumped up as if to bolt.

"Stop, Johnny Boy!" I yelled. "I want to talk to you." He reluctantly stopped in his tracks. His friend, who was still sitting, looked on curiously. "I'd like you to meet Andrea and Natalie," I said as we formed a half-circle around him. He looked at them uneasily. "I understand you might be familiar with them."

"Hi, Johnny, I recognize you from middle school," said Andrea as she stuck out her hand. "And now we're in the same homeroom," she said, smiling.
Johnny accepted her hand with a feeble shake without looking at her. I'm sure his eye contact with the grinning Andrea in the morning's humiliating homeroom scene was all too fresh on his mind.

"Hey Johnny," Natalie added smoothly. "Nice to see you again." She shook his hand as well.

"Aren't you going to introduce your blond-haired friend?" I asked.

"Please," Johnny finally spoke. "Leave him alone."

"My, aren't you the protective one," I said. "A very admirable trait." I looked down at his friend and stuck out my hand.

"I'm Felicity," I said.

"Robert," he said, shaking my hand warily.

"Hi, Robert. Mind if I call you Bobby?"

"No, I like Robert," he said. He had risen to his feet and was obviously aware that this might not be a friendly encounter.

"Okay, Bobby. I see you're a feisty one. I like that," I said. "More fun that way when I get you to submit to me."

I turned my attention back to Johnny. "You know, girls," I said while reaching for Johnny's belt. "Johnny lied to me this morning. He told me he was wearing black underpants, when in fact..."

At that point Johnny pushed my hand away from his belt. I looked up at him and said, "Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. Didn't I tell you this morning to never touch me without my permission? You just earned yourself a more severe punishment. Now be a good boy and keep your hands off me," I said as I again went for his belt.

"Leave him alone!" Robert said, stepping forward. But Natalie moved fast—way faster than he expected. In one smooth motion, she had his arms twisted behind his back.

"Ow! Okay, okay!" Robert yelped.

"I'll let you go if you promise to stand there and mind your own business," said Natalie while giving another twist to his right arm.

"Okay! Okay! I promise!" he said.

"Good boy."

"Thank you, Natalie," I said sweetly. "Bobby, you really shouldn't have done that," I said while giving him a cross look. "You will regret that someday, I assure you. Now, where was I before that rude interruption? Oh yes, Johnny's underwear," I said as I unhooked his belt.

This time there was no resistance from either boy. I was free to have my way with Johnny, and I felt myself shuddering with anticipation.

"Andrea, could you do me a favor and take off Johnny's shoes for me while I deal with these jeans?" I asked.

The grinning Andrea didn't have to be asked twice. "I'm on it," she said as she got down on a knee and began untying the shoes.

"Might as well get his socks while you're down there," I instructed.

"I was thinking the same thing," giggled Andrea, and she had Johnny barefoot in short order.

"Thanks, Andrea. Natalie, would you mind taking off Johnny's shirt for me? We don't have much time, and my hands are occupied here. Oh, and Natalie, make sure Bobby doesn't go anywhere. I'd like a word with him when we're done here," I said.

"No problem," she said as she eyed Robert while approaching Johnny. "Unless Bobby wants a broken arm, I don't think he's going anywhere."

I looked up at the beleaguered Johnny and smiled at his wretched expression. "Johnny Boy, I'll need you to raise your hands up high in the air so Natalie can strip off your shirt."

Johnny's compliance was intoxicating. He raised his arms in the air, and I took a step back while still holding on to his jeans so I could drink up the delicious scene unfolding in front of me, as Natalie slowly but steadily lifted poor Johnny's tee shirt. It was quite titillating to see the gradual exposure of his smooth skin. I found the uncovering of his armpits, which were totally void of any hair (as I had hoped!), to be best of all.

"Thank you, Natalie," I said when she was done. Johnny had lowered his hands, which I immediately rectified.

"Why don't you put your hands behind your head, Johnny Boy. I really like looking at your lovely underarms."

Johnny was blushing deeply now, much to my delight. He looked around nervously, and indeed there were a few onlookers who were enjoying the spectacle. I wasn't concerned about getting in trouble. Though I wouldn't call it common, Roosevelt High did have a reputation for this sort of thing—I know Blondie was a frequent victim before I got here—and intervention from the teachers was rare, if not non-existent. Lucky me!

I turned my attention downward and unsnapped his jeans. "So as I was saying," I continued as I lowered his zipper, "Johnny told me he was wearing black underwear." I looked up at him. "Johnny, do you want to try again? What color is your underwear?"

"It's...it's white. Please, don't...."

"They're tighty-whities, aren't they, Johnny?" I interrupted.

"Y-Yes. Please..."

"Say, 'I'm wearing my favorite little tighty-whities today.' " I just love forcing my victims to say embarrassing things.

"I-I'm wearing my...my favorite....little tighty-whities today," he said. His voice was cracking as he appeared to be doing all he could to keep from crying.

"Yes you are!" I said cheerfully as I promptly lowered his jeans down his legs, all the way to his ankles. Oh, how exhilarating it was to lay eyes on the small protrusion in his little underpants and his long, hairless legs. And it was so delectable to hear him yelp, which was barely discernible above the laughter from the girls.

There was no resistance as I lifted his legs one at a time to facilitate the removal of his jeans. I stepped back and admired the view. I was in seventh heaven. I had orchestrated the forced stripping of a boy down to his underpants in public, and he was standing in front of me with his hands on his head, blushing crimson. I found myself giggling with glee, not only at the display before me, but at the realization that my calling as a humiliator had come to fruition, and from that moment on would be in full force.

I moved in close again, trailing my fingers gently down his sides, loving the feeling of his soft, smooth skin. I let my fingers rest at the waistband of his underpants. He was quivering, and I could hear his rapid breathing. I have to say my level of stimulation at that moment was intense.

I slid my fingers lower, invading the inside of his underpants. Johnny flinched noticeably—a delicious moment for me. I looked him in the eyes.

"You know I could strip you naked right now if I wanted to, don't you, Johnny Boy."

His eyes widened. "No! Please don’t!"

"Don’t what, Johnny?"

"Don’t strip me naked!" he gasped.

The desperation in his voice was exquisite. It was a rush to hear him plead, and to hear him utter the word "naked," especially since he was referring to his own potential forced nudity.

"That would be really embarrassing, wouldn't it, Johnny Boy," I cooed. "To be totally naked out here in the middle of the schoolyard. Everyone would be staring at your pee-pee."

"No! Oh, please!"

I glanced down at the front of his underpants, then made eye contact with him again. "And from the looks of things there wouldn't be much to see, would there, Johnny Boy?"

"Please... stop..."

I used one hand to begin stroking his buttocks, and moved my other hand toward his front, caressing the inside of his thigh with the tips of my fingers. His breathing became heavier. His balls were right there, and I couldn't resist. I stroked his scrotum ever so delicately. The smoothness of his skin was just delectable, as was the high-pitched squeal that emanated from his mouth.

I leaned in close. "You know what's really awesome, Johnny Boy?" I said while continuing to tickle his little balls. Of course, Johnny was in no frame of mind to answer, so I continued. "I can play with you like this any time the mood strikes me."

Johnny didn't answer, so I pressed. "Right, Johnny Boy?"

"Y-yes," he said softly in a high-pitched voice.

I smiled sweetly. "That’s my good Johnny Boy."

I continued to torment him with my caresses for a few more seconds before pulling my hands from the depths of his underpants. I leaned up and gave him a little peck on his cheek. The warmth I felt on my lips from his glowing cheek was delightful.

"Thank you, Johnny Boy. That was exquisite."

Of course, I could have stripped Johnny naked right then and there—trust me, my desire to do just that was almost irresistible—but much like I did with Blondie that wonderful night, I thought it would be more fun to tantalize him, and to save that pleasure for another time. And there was no question that there would be another time.

I turned to Robert. "You also need to be punished, but we'll save that for another day. In the meantime, Johnny here can fill you in on what my sister Julie and her friends did to him. Maybe then you’ll understand what’s in store if you don’t behave."

I started to walk away, then turned back with a final word. "Oh, and I'd appreciate it if the two of you would hang out here every lunch hour, in case we want to stop by for a little playtime. We'll be in touch. Let's go, girls."

With that the three of us walked away giggling, leaving Johnny to rescue his clothes and Bobby to contemplate his ominous future.

Chapter 9: Ruby: Spanked in the Bathroom (ENF)

In the days following our debasement of Johnny under the tree, Andrea, Natalie and I would regularly congregate in the cafeteria during the lunch hour. Invariably our conversation would turn toward Johnny (and sometimes Bobby). We would either reminisce about that encounter—which invariably led to laughter—or would contemplate potential future exploits involving either one of them.

One day the conversation turned toward a couple of students that I was unfamiliar with.

"So Felicity," said Andrea one afternoon. "We wanted to talk to you about another matter." She was sitting across from me at the table, as was Natalie.

“Sure,” I replied casually, sipping from my water bottle. “What’s up?”

"Well, there's this girl. Her name is Tina. I knew her from middle school. Actually, there are two of them, Tina and her friend Ruby. But Tina's the worst. Anyway, they've both been bullying us on social media."

"Jeez," I said. "What are they saying?"

"Well, I guess Tina knows that Natalie and I are good friends. I don't know if she's jealous or what, but she's gone on Facebook and said derogatory things about both of us, even making stuff up. And she's telling everyone that we're lesbians."

"Really?" I said.

"Yeah. And even though I have light skin, she knows I'm Latina and there have been some racist overtones in her comments. And Ruby has teamed up with her lately, doing the same thing."

“They sound charming,” I said dryly.

“I know,” Andrea said. “We don’t want to just report them or confront them directly. That wouldn’t change anything. But we figured with your....talents,” she smirked, “maybe we could teach them a lesson they won’t forget.”

My first thought was that I would love to help them out. My second thought was that it would be fun to have a chance to humiliate a girl or two, especially ones so deserving.

"I absolutely think we should teach them a lesson," I responded.

Both girls grinned.

"Oh, we were hoping you would say that," said Andrea.

My mind was spinning rapidly. I thought about utilizing Julie and her friends like I did with Johnny, but wondered if we could handle it ourselves.

"How big are these girls?" I asked. "Do you think the three of us could overpower them? I mean one at a time, of course."

Andrea looked at Natalie, who was the strongest of the three of us. Natalie spoke up.

"I don't think Tina would be a problem. She's a bit on the meek side. Ruby might be another story. She could probably put up a pretty good fight." Natalie paused to mull over a solution. "But there might be a way...." Again she paused, deep in thought.

"Pray tell," I prodded.

"Well, it would involve adding another person into the equation," said Natalie.

"Go on," I prompted.

"So there is another friend of ours who they have been bullying also. Her name is Kayla. She's about my size and she works out a lot. She's athletic and probably stronger than I am."

"Do you think she'd be interested?" I asked.

"Oh, I know she would," answered Natalie. "Those two have crossed a line with her, too. Kayla's Black, and there has been a racist remark or two from them. Nothing harsh, but enough to show up on her radar. She's been talking about taking matters into her own hands, so I think we could count on her if we wanted to go that route." She paused, then smiled. "Knowing her, she would probably like to jump in on our dealings with the boys, too."

“I think I already like her,” I said with a sly grin.

"Okay then," piped in Andrea. "It's settled. Natalie and I will talk to Kayla to make sure she wants to be onboard. I'm sure she will. Then maybe the four of us could meet here tomorrow and come up with a plan?"

"Works for me," I concurred.

"Oh, Felicity, thank you!" said Andrea as she reached across the table and put her right hand on my left. "I'm so glad we've hooked up."

"Me, too," I said as I visualized humiliating my first female.

* * * * * *

The next day, I walked into the cafeteria and saw Kayla already sitting with Andrea and Natalie. She was everything they’d promised—tall with an athletic build, not an ounce of fat on her. She looked like she could play basketball, volleyball, or run track. She had a friendly face and was smiling at me as we shook hands.

"I'm glad you've decided to join us, Kayla," I said. "I'm sure Andrea and Natalie have filled you in."

"Yes, and I want to thank you so much for letting me join you," she said as she extended her handshake a moment longer.

"My pleasure," I responded. "It sounds like we might need your help."

"Hey, anything I can do. I have a feeling I'm going to have fun doing it, too," she said with a grin.

I had a feeling Kayla was going to work out just fine.

The four of us went over our plan. It really wasn't that complicated. We wanted to overpower them, get some incriminating pictures, putting them in a position where they felt compelled to do anything we wanted them to do.

Ah, just typing the words "do anything we wanted them to do" excites me. Sooo many possibilities, and most of them involve stripping and humiliation.

First on the agenda was learning the habits of the two girls, which pretty much entailed stalking them for a few days. I put Natalie in charge of this, because luckily she shared the same second period class with Ruby and third period with Tina. The third period class occurred right before lunch, so it would be easy for her to pick up Tina's trail.

Natalie reported to the rest of us each day. After three days, she came back with solid intel.

“Ruby always hits the bathroom after second period,” she reported. “Every single day. Like clockwork.”

I cracked a satisfied smile. "Any reason why we can't do the dirty deed in the bathroom?" I asked.

"Sounds perfect," said Andrea. "No teachers will be in there. Not that that seems to matter around here,” she added with a chuckle. “Anyway, we should have free reign to do whatever we want. And there's a full fifteen minutes between second and third period."

"That's it, then," I declared. "We'll meet near the bathroom right after second period and hopefully get our chance. How 'bout tomorrow?"

We were all onboard. Now we were all hoping that Ruby's bladder would remain on schedule.

* * * * * *

The stage was set. The next day, Natalie linked up with us after the second period. We stood near the bathroom with high hopes.

“There she is,” Natalie murmured, nudging me.

Sure enough, there was Ruby, weaving her way through the busy hallway and heading straight for the bathroom, completely oblivious of her pending destiny with humiliation.

We let her slip inside, then surreptitiously followed her in, pausing as she entered a stall and latched the door.

We exchanged glances. This was it.

Kayla wanted to run with it. She looked at me and said, "May I?"

"By all means," I said while holding out an open palm toward the stall.

Kayla crouched down and peeked under the stall.

“Hey, Ruby,” she said cheerily.

“What the—HEY!” came the startled response.

What happened next was impressive, effective, comical and arousing. I watched in awe as Kayla got down on her knees and went to work. Ruby's pants and underwear were partway down, making it possible for Kayla to grab hold of the tops of her pants and underwear and pull them halfway inside out over her feet.

"HEY! WHAT THE FUCK?! HEEEY!" screamed Ruby, whose dignity was about to be further dishonored.

Kayla grabbed her around the ankles and pulled her off the potty and under the door. Ruby momentarily tried to impede Kayla's progress by grabbing on to the bottom of the door. She probably realized that this action only heightened her vulnerability, and she eventually let go. Kayla continued to pull until she had her in the middle of the bathroom. Ruby was now out in the open, screaming bloody murder. It was an ingenious move on Kayla's part to only pull her pants halfway off, as Ruby's frantic kicking was considerably restricted.

"Get your hands off me, you fucking ape!" she screamed.

Kayla did not take kindly to the slur. She forcefully turned Ruby's ankles until she was on her stomach. She sat on the back of her legs while Andrea and Natalie jumped in and restrained her arms and upper body, while I began delightfully snapping pictures.

Ruby was stunned, pants around her knees, struggling to figure out what was happening.

"Get off of me!" she screamed. “What the hell is wrong with you freaks?!”

A small crowd was starting to gather.

"Time to get your white ass nice and rosy," declared Kayla.

She quickly pushed Ruby's shirt halfway up her back with one hand and began slapping her ass cheeks with reckless abandon with the other. She wasn't holding back, and sure enough Ruby's backside turned a nice shade of pink in short order.

"OW! OW! Stop!" cried Ruby.

But Kayla was on a mission. She continued to smack the now flaming-red cheeks in front of her. Ruby was a beaten woman, and she started blubbering.

"Please! No more! Please, it really hurts! Ohhhh!" she wailed.

“Here’s the deal,” Kayla said, pausing her slapping. “No more bullying. No more gossip. No more crap about any of us, or anyone else."

"Okay! I won't! I promise! Please, let me go!" Ruby screamed.

"Do you agree to do anything the four of us ask you to do from now on?" asked Kayla as she administered two more hard slaps on Ruby's very tender tushy.

"Ow! No more! Yes! Please!"

"Say, 'I'm your slave, Kayla.' "

Another slap.

"Oh! I'm your slave, Kayla!"

"Say, 'I'm your slave, Felicity,' '" she instructed with another slap.

Ruby probably didn't even know who I was, but she would get to know me better in due time.

"Ow! Please! I'm your slave, Felicity!"

Kayla was on a roll, and I was enjoying it immensely. There was no need for me to do anything but keep snapping pictures.

"Say, 'You own me, Andrea.' "

Slap!

"Aaahhh! You own me, Andrea!"

"Say, 'I'll submit to you forever, Natalie.' "

Slap!

"Oh God! I'll submit to you forever, Natalie!"

"That's a good girl, Ruby," cooed Kayla as she caressed the toasty skin she had been violating. “And if I you ever put anything on social media about us again, you’ll have to deal with me. And today will seem like a walk in the park compared to what we'll do to you.”

Kayla looked up to me and I nodded. The three girls lifted themselves off the wretched Ruby, who then made a motion to get up.

"Hold it!" I said. "I need one more picture."

Ruby grudgingly but obediently remained prostrate on the cool bathroom tiles while I reached into my backpack. I don't know what came over me earlier that day, but when I left the house to go to school I stopped in the front yard and clipped off two stemmed red roses from one of my dad's prized bushes. At the time I wasn't quite sure how or even if I would utilize them, but I knew we were planning to deal with Ruby, and I was thinking that maybe my creative juices would kick in and I'd find a way to employ them in some humiliating fashion.

I did. Being careful not to prick my fingers with the thorns, I pulled one of the roses from my backpack and kneeled aside our sprawled-out victim.

"Kayla, would you do me a favor and spread open Ruby's ass cheeks for me?" I asked.

"What? NOOO!" screamed Ruby.

Andrea pushed her foot into Ruby's back to make sure she couldn't get up. The grinning Kayla laid her fingers on either side of Ruby's crevice and spread it open, allowing me to insert the stem of the rose into the depths of Ruby's anal canal. I'm sure the thorns could not have felt good.

Kayla let go and the red rose stood up on its own magnificently, eliciting a chorus of raucous laughter from the now twenty or so witnesses.

"Hey!" screamed Ruby at her latest indignity. "What are you doing back there?"

"Oh, I'm just gussying you up for your final photo. You can take your foot off her back, Andrea. Ruby, you stay put until I tell you otherwise."

I pulled the second rose from my backpack and crouched beside Ruby, her flushed face inches from mine. She was still frozen in place, pants tangled below her knees, eyes flicking between the four of us like a scared animal.

“Lift your head,” I ordered softly.

Slowly, she did.

“Now open your mouth.”

She hesitated, but then her lips parted, and I placed the stem sideways into the open orifice.

“Now bite down. Carefully.”

She clamped her teeth down on the stem, and it was a sight to behold.

I stepped back a few feet and pointed my phone camera at her, making sure to capture the whole of her half-naked body, and especially the roses.

“Now look up at me,” I directed. “Good. And prop yourself up just a little with your elbows.”

She did so, and it was quite humorous. She was afraid to close her lips over the stem because of the thorns, so with her teeth exposed, she looked like she was smiling at me. I couldn’t help but giggle.

And then—click—I took the photo.

"Very nice, Ruby," I said as I hit a button on my phone to check the result. It was.....well, picture perfect.

"Oh, you really must see this, Ruby," I said as I lowered my phone to her eye level. "Isn't that special?" I teased.

The miserable, glassy-eyed expression on her face said it all. Our work was done.

"That's a wrap, girls," I said. "Thanks for modeling for me, Ruby. Oh, and you can keep the roses as a gift from me."

Then I had an afterthought. I took the rose from her mouth.

"Actually, I'll keep this one as a souvenir. I'd like you to wear the other one in your hair for the rest of the month," I said sweetly. "When it wilts I'll bring you a fresh one. Call it a good faith gesture on your part."

I leaned in just a bit to make my next point.

"Every time one of us sees that rose perched up there—and for your sake, it better be there—we'll know that you belong to us." I smiled. "And you’ll know it, too. Toodle-oo."

With that the four of us filed out of the bathroom. When we reached the hallway we gave each other high fives while grinning freely. It was cause for celebration—Ruby got her comeuppance, and I now had another plaything at my disposal.

Chapter 10: Tina: Forced to Pose Topless (ENF)

With Ruby now under our thumbs, we focused our concentration on Tina. Natalie had been following her for a few days, and it looked like our best bet would be to take care of her during the lunch hour.

According to Natalie, Tina brought her own lunch to school, so she didn't use the cafeteria. The weather had been pleasant, so she had been eating outside. For three days she had spent the lunch hour in a secluded spot on a bench behind the gymnasium. On one of the days, she had two friends with her, another day she was with one friend, and the other time she was by herself. We decided that if we could get her either alone or with only one friend, then we would be good to go.

On the fourth day, Natalie reported to us about five minutes into the lunch period. It had been only a little over an hour since we had thoroughly humiliated Ruby in the girls' bathroom. We had just taken our seats.

"She's there," she said excitedly. "And she's all by herself."

Lunch could wait.

"Let's go!" I said, and the three of us stood up simultaneously and followed Natalie outside.

I was feeling pretty keyed up in anticipation. I always feel that way when I'm about to partake in a humiliation episode. And I was excited that we might be knocking off both of our targets on the same day.

We turned the corner around the gymnasium and sure enough, a girl was sitting on a bench against the building eating her lunch and reading a book. Natalie nodded and stepped aside, allowing me to take the lead. I looked around, and there were a few scattered students milling about, over two hundred yards away. I could see this wasn't going to be a problem.

I approached Tina, who was biting into a tuna fish sandwich. She was so engrossed in her book that she didn't see us coming.

"Hi, I'm Felicity," I said, startling her. She looked up and saw the four of us standing over her. “I believe you know my friends,” I said, gesturing to the threesome.

"What do you want?" she said. She tried to appear nonchalant, but I wasn't buying it.

"I'd like to take a picture of your tits," I said, holding up my phone. "Would you mind taking off your blouse?"

She was wearing a loose-fitting, lavender blouse with buttons, along with a black skirt that stopped at the top of her knees. She was certainly one of the best dressed of any of the students at Roosevelt.

"What? No!" she responded. "Who are you?"

She was definitely concerned now, and was looking around, either for help or for an escape route.

"Well, I think in time you'll see that I'm your biggest nightmare. But right now I'm just someone who wants to have a nice picture of your tits," I said calmly. "But I can't accomplish that unless you take your blouse and bra off. I assume you're wearing a bra?"

She wasn't about to discuss her undergarments with me. She tried a conciliatory approach.

"Look," she said, while looking at each of my three cohorts. "If this is about those things on Facebook, I'm really sorry. I was just messing around. I promise to never say anything bad about any of you again. I promise."

"I'm sure you won't," piped in Kayla. "But Felicity still needs a picture of your tits."

I smiled. Kayla was proving to be a wonderful addition to the group.

Tina's eyes widened. She had come to the realization that she would have to either fight or run to avoid whatever debasements we had in store for her.

She chose to run. But she was neither as quick nor as strong as Kayla, who pounced on her like a tiger fixed on her prey. She subdued her easily. Kayla had her arms wrapped around her from behind, and Tina's kicks and struggles went completely for naught.

"Let me go! Let go of me!" she screamed.

"Hold her legs," I said.

Andrea and Natalie each lifted and held her legs, and with Kayla's stronghold Tina was pretty much immobilized.

I proceeded to pull off her two-inch heels one by one and tossed them aside.

"Stop it! Please! Stop!" yelled Tina frantically, probably attracting attention from some of the students across the way.

Without a word I calmly unzipped her skirt and slid it down her thigh, exposing a pair of white nylon panties over beige nylon stockings. She was wildly bucking her hips like a bronco and trying in vain to kick her legs in a frenzied attempt to free herself from the stripping, which I found highly arousing.

"No! Please! Stop! Stop it!" she screamed.

Her frantic pleas were music to my ears. I slid her skirt down to her ankles, where Andrea and Natalie took over and slipped it off her feet.

"You can let go of her legs," I told the girls.

They did so, and Tina's feet dropped to the ground. She had given up on her struggle, resigned to the fact that she would not be able to extricate herself from Kayla's vice-like grip.

I approached her.

"Tina, Tina, Tina," I said to her. "You could have made this easy by simply taking your blouse off and letting me take a picture of your little titties. But you resisted. And now you've lost your skirt. Do you want to be naked?"

"No!" she screamed with a wide-eyed expression.

"No, what, Tina?" I wanted to hear her say the word "naked" while I pictured that delightful image.

"No, I don't want to be naked!" she said.

"Here's the deal, Tina. I'm going to give you one more chance. I want to have a nice picture of your tits, so I want you to take off your blouse and your bra....you are wearing a bra, aren't you, Tina?"

She nodded tearfully.

"Okay, then I want you to take your blouse and your bra off, and I'm going to take some pictures. After I'm done then you can have your clothes back. Does that work for you?"

She didn't respond. I'd venture to say that the humiliating act of stripping herself and posing for pictures didn't appeal to her. <giggle>

Of course, we could have had her blouse off in seconds flat, but I wanted her to play an active role in her own humiliation. It's so delicious that way.

"You do have a choice. I can't force you to take your top off. But if you don't do it yourself, well....Andrea, what do you think should happen if Tina won't take her top off for us?"

"I would say," said Andrea without hesitation, "That she'll have to be naked."

"Exactly," I said. "And Tina already told us that she doesn't want to be naked. You still don't want to be naked, do you, Tina?"

She shook her head dejectedly.

"So that only leaves one option," I said. I pulled out my phone to get the camera ready.

"You can let go, Kayla. I think Tina is ready to take her top off."

Kayla unwrapped her arms from the humbled Tina, who stood staring at the ground with her arms across her chest.

"Natalie, could you please do me a favor and help Tina get her heels back on?" I asked. "I think it would make for a much more provocative picture. I'm so glad Tina decided to get dressed up for us today."

"Oh, I think so, too," giggled Natalie.

She retrieved Tina's shoes from the ground, kneeled and slipped them on the woeful Tina's feet. I thought the heels accentuated Tina's slender legs and really added to the scene. Smiling, I snapped a picture.

"It's time, Tina," I said.

She stood still, her gaze fixed to the ground.

"We don't have all day, Tina."

She started to move her arm, but immediately clenched her chest again. Her reluctance only added to my enjoyment, as we both knew she was only prolonging the inevitable. I've often likened the buildup before a stripping to foreplay before intercourse, and that is exactly what this felt like for me. But probably not so much for Tina.

"Okay, girls, strip her," I commanded.

The three of them made a move toward Tina.

"No!" she screamed. "Okay! I'll do it!"

I knew she'd see it my way.

I held out my arm, motioning the girls to back off. The four of us stood and watched intently as she slowly, tentatively reached for her top button. At that moment I really wanted to put my hand inside my panties, such was my state of stimulation. She was sobbing quietly, and her hands were shaking as she slowly unbuttoned all of her buttons. Her blouse opened part way, exposing a portion of her pale belly and a trace of her white bra. She stopped, seemingly unable to move.

"You can just drop your blouse on the ground, Tina," I said.

It was a wonderful vision for me as Tina, now blushing profusely, stripped off her blouse and dropped it at her feet. She instinctively crossed her slender arms over her chest, which I found delectable. The sight of her cowering in her underwear and heels, nothing more—was really a turn-on. I quickly snapped a photo, knowing I would use it for my own pleasure at a later time.

"Let's get those arms down, sweetie. I'd like to get a nice picture of you in your bra and panties."

Tina ever so slowly lowered her arms to her waist. When she did, I could see why she was so reluctant to do so. Let’s just say, I’ve seen pancakes with more contour than what Tina was hiding under her blouse.

The moment her secret was out, my three cohorts started giggling, and I couldn’t help but join in. I knew I was going to have a lot of fun with this girl, then and in the future.

"My, my, Tina," I teased. "Now I see why you were so reluctant to take your blouse off. You have a little boy chest. Why do you bother wearing a bra?"

My friends laughed, and Tina flushed brighter while instinctively crossing her arms over her chest again. I saw her look behind me with an anxious expression. I turned back and could see that about a dozen students comprised of both genders had gravitated closer to us and were looking on with keen interest.

"How lovely, Tina. You've attracted a nice audience," I said. "I think they all want to see your little titties."

I looked back and smiled at the onlookers, then back at my quivering victim.

"Let's get those arms down, Tina," I directed. "I don't want to have to tell you again."

Tina once again dropped her arms slowly to her sides while nervously looking over my shoulder at her captivated audience.

"What size is your bra, Tina?"

There was no response.

"I asked you a question, Tina," I persisted.

"It's a....34."

"What about the cup size?"

There was a long pause before she said, very softly, "Double A."

"Double A!" I exclaimed. "How old are you, Tina?"

"F-fourteen. Please, just let me go."

"We'll let you go, but I still need to get some pictures of your little titties. Can you take off your bra for me, Tina?"

Tina was in no rush to do my bidding.

"It's okay, Tina, I do understand. If I were you I would be extremely self-conscious about exposing my thirty-four double-A's in front of all these people."

I paused for effect.

"But I'm not leaving here without some pictures of your bare titties. So the sooner you get that bra off the sooner this will be over for you."

Tina knew what she had to do. And to my absolute delight, she reached behind her back with one trembling hand and deftly unhooked her bra. The straps slid from her shoulders and dangled uselessly at her sides as she clutched the cups to her chest in one final act of resistance.

Honestly, the drawn-out nature of her own stripping only made it all the more delicious. It was much more engaging than it would have been had she just taken off her blouse and bra without all the dithering.

I think Tina had decided that her best course of action would be to get her ordeal over with as quickly as possible, so she finally let her bra drop to the ground, eliciting cheers of delight from the gathering. Of course, she immediately covered her chest with her arms.

Her face was crimson red. It was a beautiful sight—one I would relive while enjoying the pictures I was about to take.

"Let's get those arms down now, Tina. I need pictures, and everyone wants to see your little titties."

With considerable agitation, Tina lowered her arms, much to the excitement and amusement of the onlookers. What an excruciating moment that must have been for her!

She did have very small breasts—really just a couple of nubs. To have to expose them to all these laughing people under those conditions....golly, if I wasn't having so much fun I might have felt sorry for her.

"Oh my, Tina, your titties are even tinier than I expected," I taunted. "I think I'll start calling you Tiny Tina."

This brought a laugh from everyone within earshot, and poor Tina just kept falling deeper into the depths of her mortification.

"Okay," I continued. "I'll need you to pose for a few pictures, then we'll be done. Let's see, make two fists for me and put both hands on your hips," I directed. "Good girl, Tina. Now stand up straight. Head up. Excellent," I said as I took a picture of a girl with probably the most miserable facial expression I've ever seen.

"Now keep one hand on your hip and put the other one behind your head. Come on, Tina, faster. Pretend you're a model doing a photo shoot. Time is money. Yes, oh, that's sensual. Can you smile for me? No? Okay, I'll take what I can get."

Click

"Nice, Tina. Now one with both hands behind your head. Yes, like that. But let's get those elbows out. Gooood. Now stand up straight. Head back, tummy in. Perfect! My God, that pose makes your chest look flat as a board."

Click

"Now, just one more pose. I'd like you to keep one hand behind your head and point at the camera with the other. Yes! Just like that! Now straighten your arm while you point. Good, Tina! Can you look sexy for me? Come on, you can do better than that. We're not going anywhere until you look sexy for me. Open your eyes wide and purse your lips for me. Yes! Hold that look!"

Click Click

"Excellent!"

Click

"Awesome!" I lowered the phone, feeling quite content with myself. "I think we're done, Tina. Girls, let's give Tiny Tina a nice round of applause for the amazing show she put on for us today."

The four of us clapped heartily—along with a few of the onlookers—while the thoroughly shamed Tina gathered her clothes and began dressing. When she picked up her bra I stopped her.

"Hold it! I'll be taking that," I said with a sly grin, gently plucking it from her grasp, folding it up and stuffing it in my pocket. "It'll be a nice souvenir for me. Honestly, you really don't need it anyway."

That gave me an idea.

"In fact, from now on you're not to wear a bra until you grow some big girl tits. Girls, feel free to ask Tiny Tina to show you her little chest any time during the rest of the year, just to make sure she's going braless."

While the whimpering Tina continued to get dressed I grabbed her phone and tapped out a quick message to myself, sending a simple "hi" so I’d have her number.

"Don’t worry," I said as I handed it back. "I’ll send you a few pics later—something to remember today by. Plus, now I can reach you if I ever want to set up a playdate."

She didn’t answer, so I leaned in a little closer.

"So tell me, Tiny Tina. What did I say you're not allowed to do, starting now?" I asked. It's so much fun to make them vocalize what I've asked them to do for me—especially when it's something humiliating like this.

"I...I can't wear....that." Instead of saying the word, she pointed to the bra strap that was dangling from my pocket. I smiled to myself, then persisted.

"Can’t wear what, Tina?"

"A bra," she said.

"That's right. You're not allowed to wear a bra until you grow some....?" I held an open palm out, gesturing to her chest.

"Some....some...." She was really having trouble with this one. "Some big girl tits," she finally relented, inducing hearty laughter all around, and causing her face to turn several shades brighter.

"Gooood, Tina," I said with a grin. "Oh, and one more thing. Unless it’s pouring rain, you’ll be eating lunch right here from now on. And tell your friend Ruby to keep you company. Tell her I said that would be rosy. You two can share humiliation stories while you wait for us to come play with you again."

With that, the four of us walked away, feeling quite pleased with ourselves. From a personal standpoint, I had added a second female victim. My passion to humiliate was being fulfilled, and I felt like there was no stopping me. I had a feeling that I was really going to enjoy my four years at Roosevelt High.

When it comes to teenage girls in these types of stories I often prefer the girls have smaller breasts.
I guess I like smaller most of the time, knowing that large ones will often be looking like half filled hot water bottles, saggy and
droopy by the time they reach their twenties. Big boobs (when they are natural) tend to come with being big all over and I want them to
go on a diet.

I like SBH more than SPH. Weird huh...

Chapter 11: Johnny Boy: Marching in Tighty-Whities

One afternoon, Natalie, Andrea, Kayla, and I were finishing up lunch when the conversation lulled for a moment. I was in a particularly mischievous mood, and I thought it might be fun to pay a visit to a couple of our recent playmates.

“Shall we go check in on the boys?” I asked with a sly grin.

As you might recall, we last left Johnny Boy in his underpants at his familiar spot under a tree near the football field and bleachers. His friend Robert—I call him Bobby, which he apparently doesn't like—was with him at the time. He’d tried to step in and defend his friend. A gallant gesture to be sure, but foolhardy. I had warned him then that there would be consequences for his interference.

My parting instruction had been very clear: Both boys were to hang out in that same spot every lunch hour without fail.

It had been about a week and a half since then, and it felt like a good time to ensure they were following my directive.

The girls perked up immediately. Kayla, in particular, seemed extra enthusiastic—probably because she hadn’t been around for our moment with Johnny Boy. She seemed to really enjoy our experiences with Ruby and Tina, of course, but I got the impression that she was even more interested in humiliating the boys. Nothing I could put my finger on—but I’d picked up a subtle spark of curiosity whenever the boys were mentioned.

As we neared the tree, I spotted Johnny sitting alone beneath it. That simply wouldn’t do.

“Johnny Boy!” I shouted when we were within earshot. Startled, Johnny looked up in trepidation as we approached him.

“Nice to see you, Johnny,” I said, walking up with the girls. “I’d like you to stand up and meet someone.”

Johnny hesitated, then got to his feet.

“Johnny, this is Kayla. Kayla, Johnny Boy.”

“Hi, Johnny Boy,” Kayla said sweetly, extending her hand, which Johnny accepted halfheartedly. "I'm really sorry I missed you the other day," she added with a devilish little smile.

"Why isn't Bobby here?" I asked, putting an end to the pleasantries.

"I....I don't know," answered Johnny feebly.

"I told both of you that I wanted you here every day. And he is not here. This is not good. Does Bobby not understand the importance of following my directions?"

He squirmed. "I...I'm not sure," said Johnny, obviously at a loss for words.

"Do you understand the importance of following my directions?"

"Yes....y-yes I do."

"I'm not sure you do, Johnny. If you did you would have made sure that your friend was here with you. And he's not here, is he, Johnny?"

"No, but...."

"No buts, Johnny," I interrupted. "I told both of you what I wanted, and one of you has disobeyed me. I'm holding both of you accountable. And both of you are going to have to be punished."

"I'm s-sorry," said the now very anxious Johnny. "I didn't think..."

"That's exactly right, Johnny, you didn't think. If you had thought this out you would have made sure that Bobby was here. You've been a bad boy, Johnny. And do you know what I do to bad boys?"

I stepped in close, tugging the hem of his T-shirt free from his jeans. He froze. I put my hands gently on his shoulders and leaned in, my voice low and deliberate.

"I punish them."

His breathing quickened. I could almost feel the anxiety rolling off him.

"And do you know how I punish bad boys, Johnny?"

The obviously frightened Johnny didn't answer, so I helped him out.

"I'll tell you what I do. I get them very, very embarrassed."

Johnny's breathing became heavier, and the look of panic in his eyes was delightful.

"Remember how embarrassed you were the other day when I had you stripped to your underpants?" It was a rhetorical question, and I didn't expect an answer. "Trust me, I can make you even more embarrassed than that."

He stared at me, wide-eyed.

“How do you think I might do that, Johnny?”

“P-Please,” he stammered. “I’ll make sure he’s here next time. I promise.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will, Johnny. But as we've established, he is not here right now. And we wanted to see both of you. And you need to be punished. In a way that leaves you even more embarrassed than last time.”

The panic in his eyes said it all.

“So, Johnny Boy,” I said with a slow smile. “How do you think we should make that happen?”

“I… I don’t know,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, let's think this through," I said. "Last time we stripped you to your underpants. That was very embarrassing, wasn’t it? I mean, your poor little face was as red as a tomato."

Johnny looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

"And now we're looking for a way to make you even more embarrassed. So, unless you have a better idea, I was thinking that maybe we could take your underpants off this time. Do you want to be naked, Johnny?"

I love asking that question. It always elicits a wonderful reaction, either audible or physical—usually both. To this day no one has ever answered in the affirmative. <giggle>

"No! Please!" Johnny blurted, eyes wide.

I grabbed the hem of his shirt and started lifting. Kayla and Andrea, clearly catching on, crouched to remove his shoes and socks like a pit crew.

"Let's get those arms up, Johnny," I directed.

As Johnny raised his arms he let out a barely audible whimper, which I found adorable. Subtleties like that truly add to the experience for me.

I pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Johnny crossed his arms over his chest, looking miserable. He was now barefoot and shirtless, a helpless victim waiting for my next move. It was awesome.

“Hands behind your head, sweetie,” I said. “Good boy. Elbows out to the sides. That's it.”

I looked under his arms and smiled. "You look so cute with your hairless underarms on display for me like that."

The girls giggled and Johnny blushed brighter while I beamed with pleasure. He really did look adorable, with his soft, youngish features. So innocent looking, and blushing beautifully.

I moved behind him and starting at his neck, I slowly, teasingly ran my fingers down his chest, across his nipples and down his sides. He shivered deliciously.

I rested my hands on his belt buckle, then glanced around. Sure enough, we’d drawn a small audience, which I'm sure wasn't lost on Johnny.

“You’ve got fans again, Johnny,” I noted cheerfully as I unbuckled his belt. "You're becoming quite the celebrity aren't you?"

His breathing became more rapid as I unbuttoned his jeans and fingered his zipper. He jerked his body slightly because of my proximity to his privates, which brought a smile to my face.

"Don't worry, Johnny Boy, I'll be gentle with you," I teased.

"Please," he begged, his voice barely audible. "Please let me go."

"Are you wearing your tighty-whities again, Johnny Boy?" I asked, ignoring his plea. He didn't respond, so I said, "Answer me, Johnny."

He nodded reluctantly. “Yes….please...please don't...."

"That's good, Johnny Boy. You look awfully cute in your little tighty-whities. I'd like you to wear them every day for me," I said. "Will you do that for me, Johnny?"

"Okay," he yelped softly.

As I tugged his zipper down, I said, "Look at Kayla."

Kayla was grinning widely in anticipation, her perfectly white teeth contrasting nicely with her dark complexion.

"Kayla hasn't seen you in your tighty-whities yet. I think she's really looking forward to it."

"Please don't....don't do this!" he shrieked.

I was about to pull down his jeans when an inspiration hit me. I love it when I have an inspiration amid a humiliation episode.

I pulled his zipper partway up so his jeans wouldn't drop, then I let go. They hung from his hips, somewhat precariously.

"Andrea," I said as I walked around Johnny to face him, "Could you find a marching song on your phone for me?"

I'm not sure if Johnny knew where this was going, but a few people were giggling while Andrea did her search, so some of them had a pretty good idea.

"Got one!" called out Andrea.

"Great!" I said. "Just cue it up for me and I'll let you know when. Make sure your volume is up all the way. Oh, and Natalie, if you wouldn't mind getting a video, that would be great. I have a hunch this will be good."

“Already recording,” Natalie replied.

I turned back to Johnny, all sweet smiles. "Since you said please, I'm not going to pull your jeans down. Okay, Johnny?"

He wasn't quite sure what to make of that concession, but he responded, somewhat hopefully. "Okay. Thank you." It was really cute.

“But in return.…” I leaned in a little. “I want you to do a teeny, tiny little thing for me, okay Johnny?"

"Okay," he said in a high-pitched voice.

“In a moment, Andrea’s going to play some nice marching music for us. I'd like to see you march."

I studied Johnny's face and waited. I think being under such duress must have affected his cognitive thinking, because it was a good five seconds before he realized what the ramifications would be from lifting his legs up in the air. His wide-eyed expression when it kicked in was priceless.

"You can just march in place, Johnny," I instructed. "But I want you to get those knees up high, just like you're in a marching band. And make sure your hands stay behind your head."

I nodded to the grinning Andrea. Right on cue, the cheerful beat of marching music filled the air. I found out later the piece is called Radetzky March, by Johann Strauss, Sr. It was perfect.

Here is a little snippet of it. As you listen, try to imagine poor Johnny Boy marching to it in his tighty-whities for our entertainment.

Radetzky March

Initially Johnny remained motionless, unable to do my bidding. Of course, this was a temporary condition, as was the status of his jeans.

"March, Johnny Boy!" I shouted. "I want to see you march! Lift those knees up!"

Johnny, who (quite deliciously, I might add) was struggling to prevent the result that was certainly a foregone conclusion, lifted one leg….then the other….very gingerly. Even that small effort caused the tops of his jeans to loosen slightly from his hips, thus exposing the top two or three inches of his underpants, much to the delight of the onlookers.

“HIGHER, Johnny! Like this!” I demonstrated, knees to waist-height.

Johnny knew is fate was sealed. The moment he complied, Johnny's jeans dropped to his thighs, where they ever-so-briefly stalled at his knees before his next steps brought them down to his ankles unabated. The crowd burst into laughter, and Johnny turned scarlet.

"Keep marching, Johnny Boy!" I called through giggles. “You’re not done yet!”

Much to everyone's merriment, Johnny continued his awkward march, knees high, jeans tangled at his feet. Andrea and Kayla zealously jumped in and with adept teamwork they stripped them completely off. All the while, Johnnie obediently continued to march to the rhythm. It was almost like the music was a driving force, and he couldn't stop—like he was possessed!

I took advantage of the moment. I went behind him and gave him a gentle shove.

"March forward, Johnny! Circle the tree!" I ordered.

And bless him, he did. Three times. Red-faced, arms up, and earning a laughing ovation from our little crowd.

He looked so funny, all red-faced, embarrassed as all get-out and marching around the tree in his tighty-whities. It is one of the funniest things I've ever seen, and judging from the hilarity emanating from the spectators, I don't think I'm alone in that assessment. I'm giggling right now just thinking about it.

* * * * * *

That's as far as we went that day. I had fully intended to strip Johnny Boy naked during that encounter, but all things considered I decided that we had reached an extremely high level of humiliation, and that going further may have been somewhat anticlimactic. Best to save his first naked exposure for another time—though in retrospect it would have been awfully stimulating to make him march naked around the tree.

I must admit I'm getting turned on just fantasizing about that. So, if you'll excuse me, I need to go take care of something. <giggle>

Chapter 12: Blondie: Naked in the Roosevelt Hallway

I'll try get back to my ongoing account of Blondie's humiliation during my thirteenth birthday again someday, but I thought it might be a good time to relate our first encounter I had with him once I started at Roosevelt High. To this day Blondie is still my favorite victim. He's so adorable when I make him blush so. And the fact that he was my virgin experience in this wonderful world of humiliation probably has a lot to do with him being my fave.

It was during the second month of school. The memory of that unforgettable night with Blondie—my birthday gift—was still fresh in my mind. I was at lunch with my usual trio: Andrea, Natalie, and Kayla. We were reminiscing about how much fun we’d had teasing Johnny Boy, Ruby, and Tina when the conversation drifted to Blondie. I started sharing stories about how I'd teased him while we were sitting on the bed that night. He was, of course, naked. I was, of course, not. <giggle>

They were enthralled, hanging on every word.

Then the five-minute warning bell rang. “I’ll have to pick up where I left off tomorrow,” I said as we gathered our trays.

“Wait—where does this Blondie boy go to school?” Andrea asked.

"Oh, he's right here in the hallowed halls of Roosevelt High," I answered with a smile.

Andrea’s eyes lit up. “Seriously? Is there any way we could, you know, meet this guy?”

"I think that can be arranged," I said with a twinkle in my eye.

"Oh, that would be awesome," piped in Natalie.

"Count me in!" said Kayla. "Maybe we can have some fun with him, if you know what I mean—and I think you do."

The four of us laughed exuberantly as we parted ways. I was already scheming as I made my way to my next class. It was going to be fun to "catch up" with Blondie. I had been preoccupied with my newfound victims, but all the while Blondie was always somewhere on my mind. I felt a rush of anticipation now that an encounter with him was on the horizon.

I got Blondie's sister Becky's number from my sister Julie that evening and gave her a call. Becky wasn’t sure about his full schedule, but she did give me a useful tidbit: His second period class was in Room 213. She knew because hers was in 212, right next door, and she’d seen him come out a couple of times.

Perfect.

The next day at lunch, I shared the intel with the girls.

“Excellent,” Andrea grinned. “We’ve got fifteen minutes between second and third. Just enough time to get acquainted."

The plan was set. Well, actually there wasn't much of a plan. I think the girls had seen me in action enough and trusted me to wing it. I was confident that I could justify their trust.

* * * * * *

The following morning, we met up right after second period at the bottom of the main staircase. At Roosevelt the juniors and the seniors had their classes on the second floor, while the freshmen and sophomores were on the first. The lockers for the students were situated in the same manner.

We hustled up the stairs, weaving through the hordes of students, and just as we neared Room 213 I spotted the blond-haired (well, duh) Blondie exiting through the doorway. I felt a tingle of pleasure, as the memories of my thirteenth birthday flushed through my head.

“There he is,” I whispered to the girls, my heart skipping a beat.

"He's a senior? He looks more like a freshman or sophomore," commented Natalie.

“I know,” I grinned. “Isn’t that adorable?”

Blondie led us a short way across the hall where he stopped at his locker. He had just turned his key in the lock and had pulled open the door when I stepped up beside him and gently tapped his shoulder.

“Hi, Blondie,” I said with a sugar-sweet smile. “So nice to see you again.”

He turned, startled, and then recognition bloomed on his face—quickly followed by apprehension.

“I brought some friends who’ve been dying to meet you,” I said, gesturing to the three beaming girls behind me. “This is Andrea, Natalie, and Kayla. Girls, this is the one and only Blondie."

“Hi, Blondie!” they sang in unison, grinning broadly.

Blondie just stared, speechless. I'm pretty sure he had already figured out that we probably weren't there for a friendly meet and greet.

“Felicity’s told us so much about you,” Andrea said, eyes sparkling.

“And yesterday,” I continued, “I was telling them about how we sat on Becky’s bed that night…” His cheeks flushed instantly, much to my delight. “And how pretty your legs are,” I added with a wink.

I turned back to the girls. “Would you like to see how pretty Blondie’s legs are?”

"Ooh, yes, could we?" said Kayla while looking down at his legs, which at the moment were shrouded by a pair of jeans.

“Could you show us your pretty legs, Blondie? Pretty please?” I asked sweetly.

He finally spoke, his voice cracking. "P-Please, Felicity. Just....just leave me alone."

“Oh, we will, Blondie. Just as soon as we see your legs.”

Even though no words had been spoken between us for about three months, it was pretty much a tacit understanding that he would have to submit to whatever demand I had. The pictures and videos I have from that night are far too incriminating.

Amusingly, he reached down and partially pulled up one of his pant legs. It was cute how hopeful he looked, like maybe, just maybe that would be enough.

“Oh, that’s very nice, Blondie,” I cooed, stepping closer. "But we need to see more than that."

I reached for his belt and began unbuckling it. Ever the compliant one, there was no resistance. He knew me well enough to know that regardless of whatever attempt he would make to resist, that I would eventually get my way.

“Please, Felicity,” he whispered, glancing around nervously. “Not out here.…”

“You’ll be fine,” I whispered reassuringly. "The four of us are blocking the view, so not many people will see."

That didn't seem to ease his mind. The lecherous grins he saw on the faces of Kayla, Andrea and Natalie made him quite uncomfortable, I'm sure.

I unbuttoned his jeans and started to go for his zipper when I guess he couldn't help himself, and he grabbed my wrists. It was almost an involuntary reaction on his part.

“Blondie,” I said sweetly, letting him hold my wrists for just a moment, “Do you remember when we were in Becky’s room, and you were standing on a stool wearing just a pair of cute panties?”

The blush that instantly flared across his face was almost as good as the original memory. The girls giggled at the image.

“Do you remember where your hands were?” I asked.

He gave a reluctant nod.

“Good. That’s where I want them now.”

On command, he interlocked his hands behind his head to the accompaniment of more tittering from the girls.

To add to his anxiety, I'm sure he noticed that a few other students had become aware of the situation and were looking on in fascination.

"That's a good boy, Blondie," I cooed as I slowly eased down his zipper. “Now let’s have a look at those pretty legs of yours.” I turned to my eager assistants. "Girls, would you mind helping Blondie with his shoes and socks? We'll be able to see more of his legs without the socks."

Andrea and Natalie had Blondie barefoot so quickly it was as if a magician had made his shoes and socks disappear.

"Kayla, would you mind pulling Blondie's shirt out of the way a little bit so there's nothing obstructing our view?"

“Absolutely,” she chirped.

The devious Kayla took it a step further. Approaching Blondie from behind she lifted his shirt—it was a long-sleeved black tee shirt—inside out and over his head, then yanked it completely off his arms. She held it up triumphantly.

“Thanks, Kayla,” I giggled, giving Blondie a gentle pat on his now-bare chest. "I guess it's out of the way now.”

Enjoying the moment, I knelt down in front of poor Blondie, slowly guiding his jeans down his legs, letting them gather at his ankles. Not wasting any time, I lifted his legs one at a time and pulled his jeans completely off.

And there he was—my beloved Blondie—blushing crimson, standing in just a pair of bright red boxers that matched his glowing face perfectly. I was pleased to see that, while some leg hair had grown back since his Becky/Brenda makeover, they still looked delightfully smooth and quite adorable. I ran my fingers up one of his calves, and he twitched just slightly.

“Oh, Blondie,” I sighed as I stood back up, cupping his blushing face in my hand. “Your legs are still so pretty. Not quite as silky as they were that night, but still quite lovely.”

I took hold of the bottom of his boxers on both sides.

"Should we take these down and have a look?"

“No! Please!” he yelped, panic flaring in his voice.

“Do it!” a female voice called from behind us.

The small crowd had grown, and Blondie clearly noticed. His eyes went wide as he spotted two familiar faces in the crowd—Becky and Brenda.

I grinned and gave them a little wave. Becky smiled right back and gave me a thumbs-up. It really added to the scene for me to have Blondie's sister and his old nemesis on hand to witness his humiliation. I'm sure it had to be very disconcerting for him. It sort of egged me on—I was thinking I wanted to do them proud.

I actually wasn't planning on exposing Blondie's little penis during that encounter. Originally I just wanted to introduce him to my friends and humiliate him by exposing his underpants. But now I just couldn't help myself. I was caught up in the moment, he was ripe for the taking, and after all, it was Blondie. He brought out the most delightfully wicked side of me. And how fitting that Blondie would be the first of my victims at Roosevelt to suffer the humiliation of having his privates bared in front of an attentive audience.

I kneeled in front of him and began tugging on his shorts. My adrenalin was pumping as the noise level rose when his penis came into view. I continued to pull down until letting his shorts rest at his knees. Blondie was trembling like a leaf, and his hands remained obediently locked behind his head.

I was a little disappointed to see that some hair had grown back around his penis, but I was happy to see that his penis was still as small as I remembered. I found it kind of cute, and it was perfect fodder for teasing—plus so embarrassing for him!

“His weenie’s kinda weenie!” a girl behind me giggled, sending a fresh wave of laughter through the crowd.

Poor Blondie. He was absolutely crimson. How excruciating it must have been for him to stand there with his hands behind his head and his shorts at his knees, knowing what everyone was staring and laughing at.

It was absolutely exhilarating to exercise my control over Blondie again and humiliate him like that. As I've said, he's my favorite plaything. Kind of like when I was a little girl playing with dolls, I always had my favorite doll. But this was ten times better. I was dealing with a live human being now. And I never got sexually aroused by playing with my dolls. <giggle>

"Strip him naked!" I heard someone yell from behind me. I turned back and smiled, then turned back to the task at hand. I was looking forward to doing exactly that.

With a gentle tug, I slipped his boxers the rest of the way off and dropped them on top of the little pile of clothes at his feet. I had now divested him of all his clothes. My heart was beating rapidly from the excitement—but probably not as fast as Blondie's.

I rose and looked him over, hands on my hips. I took a moment to appreciate the wonderful scene I had created, to soak it all in. It was almost surreal. Here I had this boy—completely naked and adorably mortified, standing in the school hallway….completely under my control. And not just any boy. It was Blondie.

I watched him, fidgeting and flushed, and felt a mix of giddiness and satisfaction settle over me—not to mention a certain amount of erotic stimulation. I had fantasized about moments like this before. But now they were real. I had done this. I had created this unforgettable, perfect little moment, and Blondie—blushing, bare, and completely at my mercy—was the shining centerpiece.

I couldn’t believe my good fortune. Somehow, the universe had handed me this golden opportunity, and I wasn’t about to waste it.

"Look at you, Blondie. You're naked!," I declared. I looked him up and down, grinning. "Say it," I said.

He didn’t respond.

“Say it,” I coaxed.

"I'm naked,” he mumbled while staring at the floor.

There was laughter all around, and I watched him squirm, trying not to cover himself even though every muscle in his body was screaming to do so.

"Yes you are! And everyone is looking at your little pee-pee," I said while taking hold of his little pee-pee with my thumb and two fingers and jiggling it back and forth. Blondie almost jumped out of his skin before settling back down.

The laughter was animated, and Blondie's wretched expression spoke volumes.

I was just about done with him, but I had a few parting instructions that would help facilitate future humiliations.

“I’ll let you get dressed in a second, Blondie,” I said with a teasing smile, "but first I want to tell you some things I'd like you to do when you get home today. You will do everything I ask you to do, right Blondie?"

He nodded.

"I need to hear you say it."

"Yes," he eked out meekly.

"Yes, what?" I persisted.

"Yes, I'll do what you ask me to. Please, can I just get dressed while you tell me?" he begged as he looked around nervously at Becky, Brenda and the gathering that was increasing in size by the minute.

"Soon. But I think you'll pay better attention if I keep you naked while giving you your instructions."

It was really entertaining watching him standing there all naked. I knew he so wanted to at least cover himself with his hands, but he knew I wouldn't allow it. He was fidgeting restlessly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other and twitching his hips. It was so cute!

"I'll let you have your clothes back," I said sweetly, as I ran my hand slowly along his thigh, "but in return, you're going to do a few little things for me.

"I don't like looking at this unsightly hair. It spoils the effect. When I caress your legs, I want them to feel smooth. Silky. Soft. So from now on—starting tonight—you’re going to shave your legs and keep them silky smooth for me."

He flinched, and I grinned. Oh, he was already dreading it. But I wasn’t done.

"And I'd like you to wear shorts to school from now on," I added. "That way, I won’t have to take your pants off every time I want to admire your pretty legs."

Blondie’s eyes widened. The thought of baring his smooth legs for everyone to see, every day? That clearly shook him.

"Though," I added with a wink, "I must admit, I do enjoy taking your pants off."

I smiled at Blondie and took pleasure in his blushing face.

"Now tell me what you're going to do, and what you’re going to wear."

"I....I'm going to shave my legs and wear shorts to school," he mumbled.

"All the time," I reminded him, lightly trailing my fingers along his shin. "Say it: ‘I’m going to keep my legs nice and pretty for you all the time.’”

He hesitated, but knew resistance was useless.

“I’m g-going to keep my legs... nice and pretty for you all the time,” he repeated in a strained little voice.

That earned some fresh laughter from the onlookers.

I then took hold of a tuft of hair around his penis. "This has to go, too. I want you smooth all over."

I reached further down and stroked his scrotum. Blondie stiffened and scrunched up his toes. I've mentioned before how quite often the subtleties that occur during a humiliation encounter can be so enjoyable, and this was a prime example. I tickled him a bit longer just to draw out the moment.

"Your little balls need to be smooth too, okay Blondie?"

"Okay," said Blondie submissively in a high-pitched voice.

“Let me see your arm,” I said, gently guiding his right wrist down from behind his head. I traced my fingers along his forearm. "You’ve got a few hairs creeping back here too. You need to keep your arms nice and hairless for me. I want them soft and girly. And I want you to wear short-sleeved shirts from now on so we can all admire them properly."

I tucked his arm back into position and peeked beneath it. “Mmm, underarm hair’s coming back too,” I observed. “That’ll have to go. Keep your underarms smooth and hairless, like a little boy's."

I walked behind him and stroked his buttocks. "Smooth as a babe back here," I grinned as I gave a couple of love taps to his cute little tushy.

"Okay, let’s recap,” I said, turning to face him again, hands on my hips. “No unsightly hair from the neck down. As far as your clothes go—I'd like you to go back to the tighty-whities. No more boxer shorts. You haven’t earned that privilege. You have little boy bits, and starting tonight they'll be all smooth, devoid of any hair. You'll look like a prepubescent 10-year-old boy down there with your hairless little bits, so tighty-whities will be much more appropriate."

“I....I don't have them anymore," Blondie said, his voice rising in pitch. "I threw them all away."

Oh, sweet naïve Blondie. Like that was going to deter me.

"Well, you'll just have to go buy a new supply after school today, won't you?" I said brightly. "And you will wear them. Trust me, I’ll be checking."

I gave him a look. "Now, let's see if you were paying attention. Why are you no longer allowed to wear boxer shorts?"

I just love doing this to my victims. I know they hate it, and their humiliation level must be off the charts.

His lips parted, but nothing came out for a second. His face was deep crimson, a shade only Blondie can produce. I was really enjoying watching him, standing there all naked and fidgeting. I would have had my hand inside my panties if I wasn't in public.

“Because....because I haven’t earned it,” he finally managed.

“Exactly!” I beamed. “Such a smart boy when you put your mind to it. And why haven't you earned it?”

"Because I....because....I haven't matured enough?" I loved how he put it in the form of a question.

"Very good! And in what way exactly haven't you matured?" Blondie didn't have a ready answer, so I helped him along. "Is it because you have little boy bits?" I asked while staring at his little boy bits.

Oh, the humiliation was intense. I was having so much fun!

"Yes," he said softly.

"Say it."

"I have little boy bits," he said, eliciting considerable giggling from the gathering.

"Yes, you do! And tell me—after tonight, what will be a distinct and very embarrassing feature of those little boy bits?"

"They....I'll....I'll.....they'll have no hair."

"Right! You'll have bald little boy bits!" I paused for effect, and to let the laughter die down. "Let me hear you say it," I pressed.

"I'll have bald little....bald little bits."

"You'll have bald little boy bits." I looked him in the eyes, waiting.

"I'll have bald little boy bits," he complied, much to my delight.

"And what will that look like down there? Do you remember?"

Hard as it was for him, he knew he had to submit. "A 10-year-old boy," he said.

"Close. You forgot one word."

He looked at me, somewhat puzzled.

"Prepu....?" I encouraged. I held out an open palm, gesturing for him to finish.

"Prepubescent."

"Good boy! Now say the whole sentence."

"I'll look like a....like a prepubescent 10-year-old boy.....down there."

"With your bald little boy bits," I pushed.

"With my bald little boy bits."

"The whole sentence now."

Blondie took a deep breath. "I'll look like a....like a pre.....a prepubescent 10-year-old boy down there with my little....with my bald little boy bits."

"Yes you will, Blondie, and I can't wait for you to show off your new look for me!

"Okay now, let's see, what else?" I stepped closer and touched the top of his thigh. “As for your shorts, I don’t care what kind, but the hem needs to be above mid-thigh. Here,” I said, touching a spot about an inch below where his boxers had been. “Gym shorts might work. But if they’re too long? I’m going to take them away and you’ll be stuck strutting around in your new tighty-whities instead. Got it?”

He nodded miserably.

"Legs like yours are meant be showcased—the more of your silky-smooth skin showing, the better. Oh, yes, so no more socks. All the better to flaunt your pretty legs from top to bottom."

I moved up to his arm again and drew an imaginary line about three-quarters up his bicep. “Shirtsleeves can’t go lower than this. I’d put you in a tank top if I could—but sadly, Roosevelt won't allow it.” I gave his arm an affectionate little stroke. "You'd look adorable in short shorts and a tank top," I teased. "Maybe for the weekend,” I added with a wink.

At that point, Becky stepped forward, deciding to join the party.

“I can help with the clothes, Felicity, if you like,” she offered. “Blondie’s just about my size.”

She reached down and traced a line across his thigh, well above mid-thigh. He flinched at his sister's touch.

“I’ve got some cute shorts that come to just about here,” Becky said cheerfully. “I can leave them on his bed tonight. I'll have him try them on after he shaves his legs," she said with a devilish grin while looking up at the tormented Blondie.

Blondie looked like he wanted to vomit.

Becky wasn’t done. She traced a second line across his upper arm, just below the fleshy part of the shoulder. “And I’ve got a few tees that hit right here. Should I dig those out too?”

“Yes, that would be perfect! Thanks, Beck!” I said, clapping my hands. I turned back to Blondie with a dazzling smile. "Now you can just wear whatever Becky picks out for you. Aren't you lucky to have such a generous and caring sister? And she's willing to share her clothes with you. Not many sisters would do that. What a lucky boy you are, Blondie!"

Blondie didn’t respond. He just stared miserably at the ground in front of him.

Me? I was already picturing him—legs silky smooth, arms hairless, dressed in Becky’s cute little shorts and snug tee—shuffling through the halls of Roosevelt, blushing every time someone gave him a second look. Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

It was just about time to wrap things up, but I had one more trick up my sleeve. I wanted to throw a bone to Brenda.

“Okay, sweetie, you can put your arms down now,” I told Blondie.

His arms shot down instantly, both hands flying to cover himself as he stared at me with wide, worried eyes—especially when he noticed I’d gathered up all his clothes.

Without a word, I carried them over to his locker, stuffed them inside, and shut the door with a satisfying click. His lock was still dangling there, key in place.

Oh, Blondie. That was just careless.

I pressed the lock shut and slid the key free.

Blondie watched fretfully as I strolled over to Brenda, gave her a wink, and handed her the key. Blondie's fate was now in her hands.

Brenda, grinning from ear to ear, turned and started strolling casually down the hall.

"No! Brenda!" Blondie cried, his voice breaking into sheer panic.

“If you want your clothes back,” I called sweetly, “you’d better not lose her.”

I didn't have to tell him twice. To the roaring delight of everyone nearby, the bare-bottomed Blondie took off running after her, hands struggling to cover himself as he zigzagged through a hall that was rapidly filling with laughter, gasps, and cell phones held high.

I watched with immense satisfaction as Brenda turned and stepped into the girls’ bathroom.

Blondie skidded to a stop.

He hesitated.

Then, to the delight of everyone, he shoved the door open and plunged into forbidden territory.

I heard shrieks of astonishment, followed by boisterous laughter. I grinned widely as I visualized what had to be a riotous scene inside those walls.

* * * * * *

The last image I saw of Blondie that day was his cute little butt disappearing into the girls’ bathroom. A fitting finale, really.

That evening, I got a thank-you call from Brenda.

“Felicity,” she said, barely able to speak through her giggles, “I owe you big time.”

She filled me in. Blondie did get his key back, but he had to earn it.

According to Brenda, she’d climbed up on the sink counter and dangled the key in the air like a prize, goading him into joining her up there. And Blondie—naked and desperate—indeed climbed up with her. As soon as he reached out, she let the key fall….and naturally, it bounced off the tiles and slid right under one of the bathroom stalls. And of course, it was occupied.

Brenda said he dropped to all fours, scrambling frantically to grab it, while the girl in the stall shrieked and kicked at him like he was some kind of deranged pervert.

“I thought I was going to pee my panties,” Brenda told me, still breathless with laughter. “It was the hardest I've laughed in a very long time."

I laughed right along with her. “Thank you for the update,” I said, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.

When I clicked off my phone, I leaned back on my bed with a dreamy sigh.

What a wondrous day.

Reuniting with Blondie. Reasserting my control over him.

And oh, the bright future ahead.

I was going to have sooo much fun with my Blondie.

Chapter 13: Johnny Boy: A Gradual Stripping Throughout the Schoolyard

A few days had passed since our last delightful little run-in with Johnny Boy. As much fun as it had been, something had been gnawing at me ever since. I’d told his friend Bobby that he was expected under the tree at lunch every day. That was a direct instruction, and the last time we showed up, Bobby was nowhere to be found. One thing I simply don’t tolerate is disobedience. Bobby needed to know that, and I wanted him to understand just how imperative it is to adhere to my wishes.

Andrea, Kayla, Natalie and I had just finished our lunch in the cafeteria. I was feeling frisky, and Bobby’s little act of rebellion gave me the perfect excuse to go on the hunt for a new humiliation victim. Not that I ever needed an excuse.

“What say we go pay a visit to our favorite tree?” I asked with a playful grin.

My girls perked right up; they knew exactly what I meant. "Let's do it!" said Andrea as the four of us rose in unison from the table.

"I'm sure," I pondered as we walked outside, "that Johnny Boy has reminded Bobby what is expected of him. I wonder if he'll be there?"

"He'd better be, for his sake," giggled Kayla.

As we neared the tree, I felt a flicker of disappointment—Johnny was there, but Bobby wasn’t. My spirits lifted the moment I saw the look of terror on Johnny's face as we approached. My mood improved even more when he jumped up and instinctively put his hands on his belt buckle.

"Johnny Boy, I'm very disappointed that you don't have Bobby with you," I said.

“I—I...” he stammered, his cheeks already pink.

“Did you remind Bobby that he’s supposed to be here during lunch? Every day?”

“Y-Yes, I did. But...”

"Did you tell him that because he wasn't here last time that we made you march around the tree in your tighty-whities?"

He blushed a nice shade of red at the recollection. "I told him," said Johnny bashfully.

"And what did he say?"

"Well...." Johnny didn't want to go on, clearly reluctant to tattle.

"Tell me," I insisted. "I want to know exactly what he said."

"Okay. He—he said he wasn't afraid of you, and you couldn't tell us what to do."

"Did he, now," I said with raised eyebrows. "Tell me, Johnny Boy, where can we find Bobby right now?"

Johnny remained silent. Admirably, he didn't want to give up his friend, especially after I coaxed him into telling me what he had said.

“Okay, here’s the deal, Johnny Boy,” I continued, my voice low and measured. “You’re going to tell me where you think Bobby is right now. Meanwhile, we’re going to take your pants as collateral. If Bobby is where you say, you’ll get them back. If not….well, you’ll have to forfeit something else. We’ll keep going until either we find Bobby, or you’re out of clothes.”

I watched his wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression with delight.

“Girls,” I said, turning to my eager squad, “help Johnny Boy out of those pants, please.”

The three girls eagerly pounced on the dumbfounded Johnny. Without prompting they yanked off his shoes and socks first and had Johnny barefoot and sans pants in half a minute flat.

Johnny, already blushing, pulled downward on his tee shirt. It was pretty long, and it covered about 90% of his tighty-whities. Maybe he was thinking ahead when he got dressed that morning. <giggle>

"Now, Johnny Boy," I said. "I'm going to ask you again, and for your sake you'd better think very carefully before you answer. Where do you think we can find Bobby right now?"

"Um....he likes to play sports. You can try the basketball courts," he said while looking around nervously and still pulling on his tee shirt.

"You mean we can try the basketball courts,” I corrected. “You’re coming with us.”

"Oh, gosh! Can't—can't I just stay here? I promise I won't....I won't put my pants on until you find Robert—er, Bobby," he pleaded.

"I don't think so. You're our insurance policy, Johnny Boy. Someone is going to be naked today, and if we don't find Bobby, then that someone will be you. Now let's go. You lead the way."

The now petrified Johnny bent his knees and reached down to pick up his pants. "Uh, uh, uh!" I reprimanded. "Those stay here. When we find Bobby I'll let you come back for your pants. Let’s go, Johnny. Time’s wasting.”

I reached down and gently touched his perineum through his underpants, causing him to lurch forward and let out a high-pitched yelp, much to my delight.

Looking back forlornly at his pants, Johnny, with us in tow, led us in the direction of the basketball courts. Continuing to stretch down his tee shirt as far as he could, he was moving at a very brisk pace, I'm sure hoping to end his ordeal as quickly as possible. Heads turned as we passed by—some giggled, some just stared—but every reaction added to the delicious spectacle.

When we got to the courts—no Bobby.

“I don’t see Bobby,” I said innocently. “Do you see Bobby, Johnny?”

“No....he’s not here,” he said, trying not to panic. “Maybe he’s playing tetherball?”

He started to turn and walk in the direction of the tetherball court until I stopped him.

"Hold it!" I shouted. "Not so fast, Johnny Boy. What did I tell you would happen if Bobby wasn't where you said he'd be?"

He froze. A few nearby students had noticed the scene unfolding and were watching closely.

“Answer me, Johnny Boy.”

"But—but I wasn't sure. Can we just see if he's playing tetherball?

"Yes we can, Johnny. But first you need to do something for me. What are you going to do for me, Johnny?"

"You said....that I'd have to take something off."

“Indeed I did,” I said sweetly, folding my arms. I stood and watched him expectantly, but he stood transfixed. "Well?" I prodded.

After another hesitation—I think he was pondering taking off his underpants instead of the shirt!—Johnny reached behind his head and pulled the top of his tee shirt over his head, and off. I loved how he stood there all embarrassed and clenching the shirt to his chest.

"You can just leave your shirt here, Johnny Boy," I said. "If we find Bobby you can come back for it." He looked around the surrounding area, unsure of what to do. "Just drop it on the ground. Nobody's going to take your tee shirt."

He looked around, hopelessly scanning for a Bobby sighting. It wasn't to be.

“Just drop it,” I encouraged. “It'll still be here if you get to come back."

Finally, with agonizing slowness, he let it slide from his fingers and flutter to the ground at his bare feet. Once again I had Johnny Boy stripped to his underpants. Deliciously, he stood there all red-faced with his shoulders all scrunched up, with one hand over his chest (like a girl!) and the other over the tiny bulge in his underpants. If I wasn't out in public I would have started diddling myself right on the spot.

“You look so cute in your tighty-whities,” I cooed, giving one of his bright red cheeks a friendly little tweak. "Okay, off to the tetherball courts in search of the elusive Bobby."

I gave his rear a playful squeeze. “After you, kind sir.”

There was giggling all around as Johnny’s ever-growing fan club followed along behind us. Poor thing was beet red and marching ahead of us in his tighty-whities, tugging down his shirt like it might magically make him invisible. I was secretly hoping Bobby wouldn’t show up at all, such was the fun I was having with Johnny Boy. Watching him traipse in front of us in his underwear was just delectable.

We turned the corner, and the tetherball courts came into view. But more importantly, Bobby did not.

Johnny stopped in his tracks. He turned and looked at me pleadingly. It was really cute.

“I think he’s at the soccer field,” he said quickly. “He really likes soccer!”

“That’s great, Johnny. I really hope you’re right,” I said sweetly.

Johnny turned and started to walk toward the soccer field, but I gently grabbed the back of his waistband, making him halt.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Johnny Boy?”

Of course he was aware of what I was referring to. I'm sure the prospect of stripping naked absolutely horrified him.

Me? I was so looking forward to it.

Johnny acted like he didn't hear me. His desperation was so palpable I could taste it.

"Really," he said anxiously. "I think he's there. Let's go see."

I moved closer to Johnny and snuggled up to him. I took hold of his wrists and gently pulled them to his sides. I put my hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. Purposefully, I pushed my pubis into his.

"We'll go see, Johnny Boy," I said to him in a soft, soothing voice. "But before we do there is something else I want to see."

I dropped my hands and slowly, tantalizingly strummed his sides with my fingers on the way down. He shivered deliciously.

"But....but I think he's there!" tried Johnny.

"There, there, Johnny Boy," I cooed while slipping my fingers inside his waist band. I put my hands fully inside and caressed his baby-smooth bum all over. "Everything's going to be okay, don't worry. We'll just get these undies off and then we'll go find Bobby."

My hand delved further into his underpants, and I stroked his perineum. Johnny flinched and wanted to pull away, but I held him firmly in place.

"Oh! No! Please stop!"

I took my hands out and lightly tickled his belly all over with the tips of my fingers, causing him to reflexively tense his stomach muscles.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing you naked, Johnny Boy."

Johnny flinched. “Please, no. Don’t make me—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” I cooed. “No one’s going to laugh at you....well, maybe just a little. But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

"No! Please! I can't!" He was breathing very rapidly. I remember hoping that he wouldn't hyperventilate.

"Can't what, Johnny?" I asked while stoking the insides of his thighs, stopping just short of his underpants. He reacted by bowing his thighs outward from the knees. "Why are you so afraid to be naked?" I asked, not unkindly.

He swallowed hard. "I—I don't want everybody to see," he said, his voice quivering.

"What don't you want them to see, Johnny Boy?"

"Please...."

"Tell me, Johnny."

"It's....not very big, and there's no....." His voice trailed off.

"No hair? Are you bald down there, Johnny Boy?" Johnny, whose face couldn't be any redder, nodded. "Well, maybe everyone doesn't have to see. But I'd like to see. Would it be okay if I have a peek inside?"

"No! Please don't!"

"You're not defying me, are you, Johnny? Because if you are then you'll have to be punished."

"No! No, I'm not—I'm not defying you!"

"Okay, good, then no punishment. Now ask me very nicely to peek inside your underpants."

"Oh! Um....will you….will you peek inside....inside my underpants?"

"Say please."

"Please." I looked at him sternly. He tried again. "Please will you peek inside my underpants?"

"Sure, Johnny Boy, thank you for asking. I'd really like to see."

I really love doing this. I remember peeking in Blondie's underpants—actually, they were panties—that night on my thirteenth birthday. He wrote about it, and I could tell how humiliating it was for him. In his account he even commented on how my hair tickled his stomach.

I leaned forward, making sure to tickle Johnny's belly with my hair. I pulled out his underpants, and when I looked inside I started giggling. I mean, I couldn't help it! Maybe it was because he was so frightened, but it was even smaller than I expected—even smaller than Blondie's. And, as I expected, he was bald as an egg down there. I looked up to him, grinning. He had such a wretched expression on his face.

"I see why you don't want everyone to see, Johnny Boy," I said. "That would be awfully embarrassing for you."

I wanted to throw a bone to my cohorts, who had been so helpful. "Everyone doesn't have to see, Johnny. But my friends might want to see." I looked back at Andrea, Natalie and Kayla, who were standing close by. "Girls, do you want take a peek inside Johnny's underpants?"

"Yes!" they said, almost in unison.

At the same time, Johnny was yelling, "No!"

"They want to see too, Johnny. I know it will be hard for you, but they will really enjoy this. Thank you, Johnny," I said as I patted his tummy. "Girls, you really need to see this," I invited.

I stepped aside, and Andrea eagerly bolted forward. Without hesitation she pulled open Johnny's underpants, and like me she immediately broke into a giggle. "How cute!" she said, while ceding to Natalie.

When Natalie was finished she cupped her hand around his face and said, "Poor thing."

Kayla did the dirty deed, smirked, then looked out at the crowd and joked, "Move along, folks. Nothing to see here." Uproarious laughter ensued.

I sidled back up to the utterly humiliated Johnny and put my fingers inside the waistband of his underpants. "These need to come off, Johnny Boy. You do know that, right?"

Johnny was trembling now. He looked out at the two dozen or so spectators that were keenly interested in his situation. I was afraid he might have a panic attack, so I felt I needed to ease his anxiety, if ever so slightly. I was going to take his underpants off, because that was part of the deal we made—plus I really wanted to. Besides, if I let him keep them on then he would lose respect for me. Or, more accurately, he would lose respect for my authority.

I did make one concession, though.

"Here's what I'll do for you, Johnny Boy. Since you've been so obedient, I won't make you expose your hairless baby boy bits to all those people out there. But you must keep your hands by your side and not resist when I take down your undies. I'll let Andrea, Natalie and Kayla form a semi-circle around you so no one else can see. Some of the kids out there will probably go behind you and check out your bare booty, but they won't be able to see how tiny your baby boy bits are, and how bald you are down there."

"But....but the four of you will see?" God, he was so cute and innocent and helpless, and I was absolutely loving it.

"Yes, Johnny, the four of us will see. We all want to see you naked. We looked inside your underpants, but it's not the same as seeing you all naked and exposed. But if you're a good boy, no one else will see your wee bits. It'll be our little secret. Kayla will be taking pictures so we can enjoy them later, but as long as you do what I say then only the four of us will see. Okay, Johnny?"

"Oh, gosh. Oh gosh. Oh gosh. Oh!.......okay." He was still breathing quite rapidly. I gestured for the girls to form a wall around the soon-to-be-naked Johnny.

"Good boy, Johnny. Everything will be just fine, you'll see. Soon you'll be nice and naked, and only the four of us will see your bald baby boy bits."

I paused momentarily to enjoy the recollection of the last time I had a blushing victim standing naked before me.

"You know, I have another boy that I like to play with, just like you. I'd like you to meet him some day. His name is Blondie. Anyway, I've gotten him naked before, just like I'll be getting you naked any minute now. His bits are on the small side, and I call them 'little boy bits.' But—and lucky you—yours are even smaller. So, since yours are smaller, I think it's fitting to call yours 'baby boy bits.' Or, even better, 'Johnny Boy's bald baby boy bits.' Can I hear you say it?"

That caught him off guard. "Oh! Um.....J-Johnny Boy's b-bald baby boy bits."

"Gooood!" I said with a giggle. "Okay, let's get you out of these underpants so you can be nice and naked for us. I haven't seen you naked yet, and I'm really looking forward to it. Are you ready Johnny?"

“Oh gosh!” was all he could manage, his voice barely above a whisper. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow bursts, his stomach heaving with each anxious breath.

"It'll be okay, Johnny Boy," I said, in as soothing a voice as I could muster. "I promise I'll be gentle. Take a nice, deep breath. Just keep your hands at your side, no sudden movements, and I'll simply pull these down, juuuuuust like this," I said as I slowly but steadily drew his underpants down to his ankles.

The tiny whimper I heard from above as I did the deed was just adorable.

"See, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" I said, knowing full well that it was absolutely excruciating for him. "You can step out of these, Johnny Boy," I said as I held them at his feet. "That way you'll be completely naked, just like we said."

Johnny, who was yelping softly in a high-pitched voice, complied by lifting his feet from his underpants. I tossed them aside. Indeed, he was completely nude in the middle of the school yard. Johnny stood there, red as a tomato and trembling, looking like he might faint.

The four of us could not control our giggling as we stared down at his genitals. I couldn't have made a better choice when I picked Johnny out. Oh, the poor boy! Again, the fear and humiliation likely contributed, but his penis was so tiny that, because of the lack of weight it jutted straight out, like a little turtle's head poking out from its shell. And his little balls were wrapped tightly in his sack and stayed tucked up under his penis. And he was as hairless as the day he was born. Gawd, the humiliation he must have been feeling is mind-boggling!

"Can we see?" yelled one of the female students standing a few yards away.

I turned back and smiled at her. "Sorry," I said. "Johnny Boy is very shy, and he needs his privacy right now." Grinning, I held my hand up and separated my thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. "He's a little sensitive," I added, much to everyone's hilarity.

"I just have to touch these," said Kayla as she reached down and started fondling his balls. "Ooh, check it out, girls," she said. "They're so cute, and they're really smooth."

Much to Johnny's torment, the rest of us took turns exploring his testicles. Kayla was right—their smoothness was exquisite. I was the last to have a go, and I finished off by taking hold of his penis. I looked up at Johnny, whose misery was profound, as one would certainly expect. "I'll bet this looks even cuter when you get a little hard-on. How much bigger does it get when you get excited, Johnny Boy?" I asked.

Johnny could barely speak. "I—I don't know," he squeaked.

"Well, that'll be something we can explore another day. Right now, we need to go find Bobby," I said. "I'll keep my promise—you can cover up now, Johnny." Johnny eyed his underpants. "No, silly," I said. "With your hands. You can come back and get your underpants if we find Bobby."

Johnny clenched his hands tightly over his crotch and led the way to the soccer field. Most of his admirers came along, and a few more filed in along the way.

The four of us were laughing heartily. We were having a fabulous humiliation session, and it was quite humorous to watch the naked Johnny walking briskly, his little ass cheeks jiggling along the way.

As we neared the soccer field, lo and behold, Bobby could be seen from a distance. Johnny, in his excitement and despite himself, lifted one hand from his genitals and pointed. "There he is!" he exclaimed. He looked at me wide-eyed and expectantly.

"Okay, Johnny Boy," I laughed. "I guess it's your lucky day. You can go now. Thank you for your help, and for the entertainment."

Johnny took off like a bat out of hell in quest for his clothes. He eschewed the circuitous route for his underpants, choosing instead to make a beeline toward the tree to retrieve his pants. I picked up the underpants and shoved them in my backpack, thinking that somehow they may come in handy at another time.

My focus turned to Bobby. Bobby was on my shit list. He disobeyed me, and I was looking forward to making him pay the price. He had no idea of the virtual tsunami that was about to hit him. We gave Johnny Boy a rough time, but at least he got his clothes back.