Pantsing and Stripping Forums

Chapter 14: Bobby: Clothes Cut Away

After amusingly watching the naked Johnny scamper away and disappear around the corner, I set my sights on Bobby. At the moment he was on the soccer field, dribbling away from a defender. His shock of longish blond hair bounced up and down as he skillfully performed his maneuvers.

Bobby's fun and games were about to be rudely interrupted.

He spotted the four of us walking purposefully toward him when we were about twenty yards away. He hesitated for a moment, then concluded that it probably wouldn't be in his best interest to hang around and wait for us. He took off running in the opposite direction, toward the nearby baseball field. Without my prompting Kayla, Natalie and Andrea took off in chase. I continued to walk briskly, my confidence in my cohorts resolute.

Bobby was pretty fast, but I could see that Kayla and Natalie were closing the gap. Andrea brought up the rear, but her determination was steadfast.

Bobby had reached shallow center field when he was tackled from behind by the speedy Kayla. Natalie was only a couple of steps behind, and by the time Andrea arrived on the scene they had him somewhat subdued. I say "somewhat" because Bobby was quite feisty—he wasn't going down easily. He was kicking and clawing like a caged animal, but it was apparent that he would be no match for the three girls.

"Get off of me, you bitches!" he screamed. "Get the fuck off me!"

When he saw me approaching he turned his escape attempts up a notch and managed to catch Kayla with an elbow to her chin. She did not take the blow good-naturedly. In an instant, she had his arm twisted behind his back, forcing it into a position that looked excruciating.

“Ow! Ow! Stop! Please, let go, goddammit!”

“Are you going to be a good boy?” Kayla asked, applying just a little more pressure.

“Ow! Oh shit! Yes! Let go!”

"Say please," she purred.

"Please! Oh, fuck! Stop!"

Kayla relaxed her hold, but she wasn’t letting go. Natalie had his other arm, just in case he decided to make a run for it again. I stood in front of him, calm and collected.

“Bobby, it’s so nice to finally catch up with you,” I said, my tone cheerful. He didn’t answer—he just glared. “We stopped by the tree earlier. You weren’t there. What do you have to say for yourself, Bobby?"

“My name is Robert,” he snapped. “And I wanted to play soccer. Is that a crime?”

"It's not a crime. But it's a choice you made that won't go unpunished," I answered. "When I ask you to do something, I fully expect that you'll do it. You got your friend Johnny in trouble with your indiscretion. Now it's your turn."

I crouched and began untying his shoes.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing!" he yelled while pulling his leg away from me.

Kayla twisted his arm behind his back again, this time even harder. He bent over and tried to break loose, but Kayla and Natalie held him in check.

"Owww! Son of a bitch! Stop!"

“Are you going to stand still like a good boy?” Kayla asked.

“Yes! Shit! Okay!”

Kayla eased up and I continued where I left off. After untying his shoe, I proceeded to unthread the shoelace from his tennis shoe and pull the lace completely off the shoe.

“Wh—what are you doing down there?” Bobby asked, clearly getting nervous.

“Helping you learn a little lesson,” I said casually.

I untied his other shoe and unthreaded the shoelace as before. I then reached into my backpack and pulled out a medium-sized pair of scissors. Holding the laces up together, I called on Andrea.

“Can you hold these ends taut for me?” I asked.

She stretched the shoelaces taut while I snipped them in half. Then again. And once more for good measure. Four shredded ends fluttered to the ground like confetti.

"What the...?" said the bewildered Bobby.

I wasn’t finished. I grabbed the tongue of his shoe and snipped it clean off.

"Hey! You've ruined my shoe, you bitch!" shouted the incredulous Bobby.

I cut off the other tongue and looked up at Bobby, who was fuming. I smiled sweetly.

“And now I’ve ruined the other one.”

I peeled off his shoes and tossed them aside. I focused on his socks. He was wearing a pair of cargo shorts, so they were quite accessible. Starting from the top I cut into his olive-colored sock until reaching his toes, then pulled it off before repeating the maneuver with his other sock.

“Goddammit, knock it off!” Bobby roared, his face flushed with rage.

I stood up and eyed his shirt. A quirky little Henley-style number with buttons all the way down. That wouldn’t last long.

"I was quite disappointed, and a bit surprised that you weren't with Johnny at the tree today," I said, snipping the bottom button clean off. We both watched the button pop slightly outward and fall harmlessly at his feet.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" screamed Bobby. "That's my shirt!" He made a feeble attempt to break free, but everyone—including Bobby—knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

"You really should have been there, Bobby," I said calmly while cutting away two more buttons.

"Goddammit, you're ruining my shirt!" he fumed, practically shaking with anger.

Unfazed, I gripped the fabric and cut a full circle around his torso.

“Andrea, could you pull this tight for me?” She did, and I sliced the strip in half. Then again. After slicing once more, I took the small, shredded pieces and tossed them up in the air, watching them flutter leisurely to the earth.

“How cute,” I grinned, running my hands around his bare tummy. "Now you're wearing a crop top."

“Okay, okay, you’ve had your fun,” Bobby said, clearly rattled. “Now let me the hell go!”

"I don't think so," I answered. "I don't think you've learned your lesson yet." I moved behind him and reached into his right front pocket.

"Hey!" he said as he squirmed in reaction to the intrusion. "Get your hand—what are you doing?!"

Out came three dollar bills, a quarter, and a dime. I stuffed the cash into his back pocket, then yanked the emptied pocket inside-out.

"You're not to wear front pockets in your shorts anymore," I said as I cut it off and tossed it aside.

"Son of a bitch! You're fucking crazy!" Bobby barked, eyes wide.

I reached into the other pocket and pulled out a key. Into the back pocket it went. "Crazy or not, I'm deadly serious. When you get home I'd like you to gather all your shorts and pants and cut the front pockets off, just like this," I instructed as I pulled out his left pocket and snipped it off.

"No fucking way!" was his response.

I calmly walked behind him, grabbed a handful of his hair that had reached his upper back—about an inch's worth, maybe a tad more—and snipped it off.

"What're you....hey, what the fuck!" he screamed incredulously.

I opened my palm, showing him the clump of hair before I let it flutter to the ground. "I'll keep going if I have to. It's entirely up to you, Bobby," I said.

"No! Okay I'll do it!" he conceded.

“Do what, Bobby?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll cut the fucking pockets off my shorts!" he blurted, breathless and flustered.

“And your pants?”

"Yes! Goddammit, just let me go!" He pulled against the hold on his arms and Kayla gave another firm twist. "Ow! Fuck!" he said as he again gave up on his struggles.

"That's a good boy, Bobby," I said, my voice syrupy sweet. I reached into the gap where his right front pocket used to be and hooked a finger into the side of his underwear, tugging the dark blue boxer briefs out through the opening.

“Also—no more underpants. Ever.”

His eyes went wide as I cut away the material. I sliced up from the bottom, straight through the soft material and clean across the elastic waistband.

“Jesus Christ!” Bobby yelped. He turned a panicked look toward Andrea. “Is she insane?!”

"Oh, Bobby, you have no idea," replied the grinning Andrea. "I wouldn't test her if I were you."

"If I ever catch you wearing underpants, I'll simply do this again," I said calmly as I repeated the same maneuver on his left side. "But if I do, I'll be sure to give you a nice haircut while I'm at it," I said as I looked up at his lengthy locks. “And if you think I’m bluffing, then you haven’t been paying attention.”

I reached for his zipper and slid it down.

"Hey!" he shrieked. "Get your hands—what're you doing?!"

Without answering, I reached in and pulled on his boxer briefs through the fly, and with minimal effort they came through the hole and completely off.

"May I?" offered the grinning Andrea, right on cue.

She stretched out the material while I snipped through the middle. Two cuts later and the small bits of what used to be Bobby's underpants were scattered on the ground, unrecognizable.

Bobby, somewhat shocked by the proceedings, was speechless, at least temporarily.

I handed the scissors to Andrea and looked Bobby square in the eye.

"So this is what I expect from you from now on: no front pockets and no undies. That way I'll always be free to do this," I said as I moved behind him, sliding my right hand into the newly formed opening at his right hip until I found his penis.

"AGHHH!" said the startled Bobby, ever so eloquently. (giggle)

"Not bad, Bobby boy," I said as I felt around, sizing him up. Indeed, Bobby's penis seemed like at least a normal size—maybe even a little bigger than normal. It was definitely bigger than Johnny's or Blondie's. And I could tell that Bobby had started growing some pubic hair. I remember making a mental note to possibly have the three of them stripped together sometime so I could compare—and most assuredly make fun of Johnny's and Blondie's smaller penises.

I slid my left hand through the other side and took hold of his balls. Bobby squirmed, but Kayla's firm grip kept him in place. I continued to play with his penis while fondling his balls. I grinned as his penis began to respond.

"Oh, Bobby, I'm so happy to see that you like me," I teased.

"Please...please stop," he pleaded softly.

But I continued my manipulation until I determined that he was completely erect. I guessed it was at least five inches long, with decent width—pretty good for a young fourteen-year-old whose onset of puberty was probably fairly recent.

I pulled my hands out and moved over to face him, savoring the blush on his cheeks as our eyes met. We both knew that I had just had my way with his genitals, something I was pretty sure no one other than himself had done before. That glazed look in his eyes told me everything—he was mine. Subdued through humiliation, completely under my control. And it felt incredible.

"I'm going to let Kayla and Natalie let go of your arms now, Bobby," I said. "You'd better not try to run away. If you do, when we catch you—and I think you know that we will catch you—I'll have the girls hold you down while I give you a free haircut. I don't think you would want that, because I'm really not a very good hair stylist."

I nodded to Kayla and Natalie, who then released their grips. Bobby winced and stretched his sore arms. At least two dozen people had gathered, captivated by the unfolding spectacle. He scanned their faces, clearly panicked, but he made no motion to try to run away.

I looked down at his crotch and noticed that the tent that had formed from his erection was beginning to diminish. I thought it would be fun to have Kayla rectify that.

"Kayla, could you do me a favor and reach into Bobby's front pockets and describe what you find?" I asked while retaking possession of the scissors from Andrea.

The grinning Kayla wasted no time. From behind, she smoothly slid both of her hands inside Bobby's shorts. I could tell from his wide-eyed expression that she had found pay dirt.

"Oh yeah," said Kayla. "There's definitely a penis here. And it's a pretty good size."

While Kayla talked, I smiled at Bobby while snipping off the last three buttons of what remained of his shirt.

"And it's a very active one at that," continued Kayla. "The more I play with it, the bigger it gets."

I cut Bobby's shirt on both sleeves up to his neck and pulled it the rest of the way off. Andrea and I quickly cut the material into small pieces.

"And he has nice balls,” said Kayla. "They fit perfectly my hand. I'm stroking them now. They're pretty smooth, maybe a little bit of hair. Oh, and he's definitely got a full-fledged hard-on now," declared Kayla.

"How long do you think it is?" I asked.

I crouched beside him, scissors in hand, and began cutting up the outside seam of his right shorts leg—slow, deliberate, inch by inch. I stopped just shy of the waistband, leaving a slim sliver of fabric still connecting the pieces. All the exposed skin was becoming a turn-on for me as I anticipated the end result.

"Oh, let's see," said Kayla. "I'd guess somewhere around five inches. Possibly more. And there's some girth. Pretty good for a young white boy," said Kayla, laughing at her intentional stereotyping.

"I think we need a second opinion," said an anxious Andrea, who proceeded to step up and put her hand through the zipper hole. The startled Bobby tried to draw backwards but was inhibited by the exploring Kayla. He probably would have jumped out of his shoes if he was wearing any. At this point both girls had their hands on Bobby's extended member.

"I agree," said Andrea. "Probably at least five inches. Hard to be sure, though. What do you think, Natalie?"

Andrea pulled her hand out and the grinning Natalie eagerly shoved her hand inside Bobby's shorts. "Hmm," said Natalie as she felt around while the beleaguered Bobby squirmed deliciously. "It could be more than five inches. Does anybody have a ruler?"

While all that was happening, I’d already started slicing up the other side of Bobby’s shorts—once again stopping just shy of cutting them clean off.

That’s when Bobby realized what I was doing.

“No! Please! Everyone, stop! Oh, please, let me at least keep my shorts!” he begged, voice cracking.

Aww. Sweet desperation.

* * * * * *

I've gone on a little long, so I think I’ll pause the story here. But don’t worry—there’s plenty more to come. Next I have a fun story to tell you about an impromptu outing I had with Blondie. I’ll post that as soon as I get it written up.

But rest assured, we’ll return to Bobby. Since you probably know me pretty well by now, I don't think it's a spoiler to say that we indeed got him naked. That's where Kayla got her moment to shine. She really put him through his paces.

I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

Bobby is the best victim yet in these humiliation chronicles.
Glad to see there will be at least one more chapter with Bobby.

TeenFan wrote: Thu Feb 29, 2024 8:15 am Bobby is the best victim yet in these humiliation chronicles.
Glad to see there will be at least one more chapter with Bobby.

It's funny, on the old site where I previously posted this story, it was pretty even between the favorite of the three male victims. As we've discussed, preferences vary widely. I'm glad you like this one!

Chapter 15: Blondie: Driving in Tighty-Whities

Most of the time my humiliation exploits are planned out, with several improvisations along the way. But some of my favorite sessions have been unscripted, and totally impromptu. One of my favorite impromptu sessions happened with none other than Blondie, my favorite patsy.

It happened just a few days after stripping Blondie at his locker. You may recall the instructions I left with him that day: to keep his body completely hairless from neck to toe, to wear tighty-whities as the underwear of choice, short shorts with no socks, and a tee shirt with short sleeves to show off his girly arms. His sister Becky had graciously volunteered some of her own wardrobe to help him meet the requirements. Wow, did she deliver. And so did Blondie.

* * * * * *

I sought him out the next day and found him at his locker. His back was to me, and I stopped a few feet behind him to size him up. I'm here to tell you, he was a sight to behold. He was wearing tight white shorts that didn't come close to reaching his mid-thigh. I'd say the inseam was about an inch, maybe an inch and a half, tops. His long, slender, clean-shaven legs were captivating. I stood and stared at them for a few seconds and found myself becoming stimulated—not just by his legs, but more so by the power that I had over him. I mean, think about it. Here's a 17-year-old boy who at my behest shaved his legs hairless, then followed that up by experiencing the shame of baring his denuded legs at Roosevelt High for all to see. Honestly, the control I felt over him at that moment was positively exhilarating.

But back to Blondie’s outfit. His top was a snug little red tee, clearly a size or two too small. Deliciously, it didn’t even meet the waistband of his shorts, leaving a cute sliver of tummy peeking out. The sleeves were short enough to show off most of his now hairless arms. He kept tugging at the hem of the shirt, trying to stretch it down a little further. It wasn’t working.

"Oh, Blondie!" I bellowed, causing him to almost jump out of his sockless tennis shoes. "You look absolutely ravishing today," I said.

He was already blushing. I'm guessing he had a constant blush going, thanks to his new condition and exposure.

I ran my fingers up and down his silky-smooth thighs. "Pretty, pretty," I said mellifluously, accentuating the "t" sounds. Blondie flushed brighter.

I glanced at his shirt and couldn’t help but giggle. Becky had really set him up. Smack in the middle was a big “Hello Kitty” face with XOXO printed underneath.

“Cute top,” I said, raising my eyebrows at him. "And I love your girly little arms," I teased while stroking one of his clean-shaven forearms like I was petting a kitten. Blondie stayed quiet, eyes darting around, clearly hoping no one else was paying attention. (They were.)

“Are you wearing your tighty-whities like I asked you to?” I asked sweetly. I pictured him going to the store after school and buying his new underwear, because I told him to. It was a turn-on.

“Yes!” he said quickly, his voice pitched with panic. “I am. I promise.”

Of course, I had to see for myself.

“Mmhmm. I believe you,” I said. “I know you would never defy me. But….I really want to see how you look in them. Especially now that your legs are all nice and silky," I added while reaching for the button on the waistband of his shorts. Blondie drew back.

“Please, Felicity,” he whispered, panicking. “People are starting to stare!”

“I know,” I said with a wink. “I think they're curious, and I think they want to see, too. I mean, you do look adorable. Now stay still, and we'll get this over with quickly. If you move away from me again I'll have to punish you. I'm sure you don't want that.”

Blondie stood submissively while I unsnapped his shorts and pulled down the zipper. The shorts were clinging too tightly to fall on their own, so I tugged them down to his ankles myself.

"Very nice, Blondie," I murmured approvingly. "Let's get a real nice look now." I lifted his shirt up to his chest and stepped back to savor the view. I wasn't disappointed. In fact, I was quite stimulated. He looked every bit as I could possibly have hoped—hairless, helpless, and hopelessly embarrassed. His blush was spectacular.

I let my gaze linger a moment longer before looking down at his crotch. I knew the answer to my next question, but I had to ask.

"Did you get rid of all the hair around your little boy bits like I asked you to?"

“Yes,” he muttered, desperate. “Please….can I pull these back up now?”

“In a second,” I said, fingering the waistband of his tighty-whities. “First I need to see.”

“Oh God,” he groaned, going stiff with tension.

"Don't worry, Blondie. I'm not going to show everyone how bald you are down there now. I just want to see for myself."

I pulled out the band of his underpants and peeked inside. I giggled as I stared at his little penis, which was now completely devoid of hair. I looked up at Blondie and smiled while I put my hand inside his underpants. Blondie flinched and straightened up to his tippy toes while I felt all around. The silkiness, and the fact that I was responsible for it, was intoxicating.

"Good boy, Blondie. You're so nice and smooth down here. And your balls," I said while stroking them lovingly while looking him in the eyes. "They're delectable."

I played with his penis for a few moments, then when it started to react, I withdrew.

"Gotta go now," I said as I promptly started walking away toward my next class. "Thanks for letting me play with you, and for getting so smooth for me. You really do look lovely. I can’t wait for next time!"

And just like that, I was gone. It was a perfect hit-and-run.

* * * * * *

As I mentioned earlier, this little spontaneous humiliation adventure took place a few days after I stripped Blondie at his locker. It was after school, and I was just about to catch the bus when I spotted him walking across the parking lot toward his family’s car. I remembered that he and Becky alternated who got to drive it each week. The other usually found their own way to and from school, since neither liked the idea of riding together.

Anyway, I decided it might be nice to have Blondie give me a ride home. Naturally, I would have a little fun with him along the way.

“Hey, Blondie!” I called out as he was unlocking the car. He glanced up, looking adorably uneasy as I strode over. “Would you mind giving me a ride home?” I asked with a sugary smile.

He wasn’t about to say no. “Okay,” he said, a bit warily.

“Perfect!” I chirped as I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. “Thanks, Blondie,” I added cheerfully as he started the car and pulled out of the lot.

Normally it would be about a fifteen-minute drive to my place, though traffic meant we’d be together a little longer. Lucky me.

“This is nice,” I said airily. “Just the two of us. We haven’t had any quality alone time since that night in Becky’s bedroom.” I was, of course, referring to my thirteenth birthday—a night where Blondie had the distinct honor of being my personal plaything. Blondie remained silent. It clearly wasn’t a memory he was eager to revisit.

We drove in silence for a couple of minutes. Then, without a word, I casually ran my hand up his leg and across his thigh. Predictably, and deliciously, Blondie turned a marvelous shade of pink. I let my fingers glide gently over his bare arms before resting my hand once again on his thigh. The silence stretched—comfortable for me, squirm-inducing for him. Every now and then, I’d trace a fingertip along the inside of his thigh. One time, I let it get so close to his groin that he reflexively pulled back. I thoroughly enjoyed the moment. He was wearing those same tight white shorts, and sitting down had hiked them up even higher than usual. I was really having a blast.

Finally, I removed my hand and broke the silence.

“Hey, you know what would be fun?” I said brightly, causing Blondie to flinch. He gave me a quick, nervous glance—clearly dreading whatever might come out of my mouth next. He knew me all too well.

“Have you ever driven a car in just your underpants?”

Blondie's face said it all. He squirmed anxiously and spoke for the first time since we had entered the car.

“Oh God, no,” he said, his voice trembling. “Please, Felicity, not in the car.” He looked at me, hoping I’d show mercy. Silly boy. “What—what if we get pulled over?”

"Just drive carefully, Blondie. And if you get stopped, whatever. I'll tell the cop you lost a bet. There's no law against driving in your underpants."

“Oh God,” he repeated, his breaths becoming quicker.

"Come on, it'll be fun. Where's your sense of adventure? Here, pull over to the side and let's get you undressed."

With a look of pure dread, Blondie guided the car to the side of the road and parked. He sat there with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, like that would shield him from what was coming.

“Alright, Blondie,” I said, grinning. “Let's do this. Take off your shirt.”

He hesitated, but then slowly pulled his shirt over his head. I plucked it from his hands.

“Good boy,” I said, giving his bare chest a light pat. “Now your shorts.”

He looked around nervously. “Felicity….please. Just let me take you home.”

“Oh, you will. I promise. But I want you to play chauffeur in your tighty-whities first.”

Blondie clenched his eyes shut tightly, took a deep breath and slid off his shorts. I took them from him and said, "I'll take the shoes, too. Undies only."

After slipping off his shoes, a very nervous Blondie turned the car back into traffic.

"This is nice," I said as I caressed his thigh back and forth, from his knee all the way to his underpants. “You look adorable. And now I’ve got even more of your pretty legs to play with.”

We drove along for a few more minutes. I was in a state of delight. Blondie? Not so much. And it was about to get more troubling for him.

“Hey, could you do me a favor and pull into that drugstore on the next block? I want to buy some gum.”

“I have gum in my backpack,” he said quickly. “You can have it.”

"Is it Orbit Spearmint? I like Orbit Spearmint."

"No, but....I think it has mint. Really, just try it."

"Thanks, but I only chew Orbit Spearmint. Pull in here. It’ll just take a sec.”

Blondie, who probably wished he could shove some Orbit Spearmint right up my ass, pulled into the drugstore parking lot. There was an empty space near the front.

"Here, take that spot right there."

Blondie pulled in, and as I unbuckled, I reached over and plucked the key fob from the ignition.

“I trust you, Blondie. I do. But desperate boys sometimes make desperate choices.” I piled his clothes onto my seat. “Don’t even think about touching these. And no ducking down in your seat or your shorts and tee shirt are going in that dumpster."

Then, just before stepping out, I held down a button on the fob. All four windows glided down. I smiled as I watched Blondie stiffen in his seat. Then I pressed another button.

HOOOONK!

The horn blasted like a siren. Blondie flailed in his seat like he’d been tasered. Gawd, it was so funny! I let it go for a few agonizing seconds before hitting the button again. When I glanced back, he was sitting there with both hands clamped over what I'm sure was a very red face.

I had no intention of buying any gum. I was just having so much fun that I wanted to prolong the humiliation session as long as I could. So I wandered over to the magazine rack and casually flipped through a copy of Teen Vogue.

That’s when I saw them—three girls browsing the candy aisle. They were wearing the uniform of the local private girls' Catholic school—plaid skirts and white blouses. They were probably two or three years younger than Blondie. One was a cute blonde, one was a petite Asian with a sweet face and the other a tallish girl with long, black hair. They were giggling about something.

I then had an inspiration. I so love it when I have these inspirations. (giggle)

“Excuse me,” I said, and they turned toward me. "I could be wrong, but I have something going on that I think might interest you."

I looked at them closely, and I could tell that their interest was piqued.

"You see, a friend of mine, a boy, is sitting in a blue Honda right outside. For reasons not worth going into right now, he's only wearing his underpants. And he's really embarrassed.”

I had them pegged right. Their eyes widened immediately, and they broke out into wide grins.

"Seriously?” the blonde said, while looking wide-eyed toward the lot.

"Yeah, for real. He's sitting in the driver's seat in his tighty-whities." There was giggling all around. "It's not his choice—it's mine. And though he's quite embarrassed right now, I think with your help we can get him really embarrassed."

They were sold. The petite one clapped her hands.

It was plain to see that the girls were all in.

"Tell us! What can we do?" asked the Asian girl eagerly.

I gave them a quick rundown of the plan, and as it unfolded, their excitement grew. The Asian girl in particular seemed quite enthusiastic.

“Just remember,” I reminded them, “pretend we don’t know each other." I started to walk away, then turned back. "Oh, and feel free to tease him. You can make him turn bright red. The more you embarrass him the better. And he embarrasses really easily."

The tall girl gave me a sly smile. “We won’t let you down.”

And oh boy, they didn’t. All three played their parts to the hilt. And they sure had fun doing it.

I’ll tell you all about it in the next chapter.

Chapter 16: Blondie: Humiliated by the Catholic Girls

When Blondie saw me walking back to the car, I could see the sense of relief on his face. Little did he know what was in store for him.

"Thanks for stopping, Blondie," I said sweetly, settling into the passenger seat and staring straight ahead.

"May I have the key?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh, of course," I said. I fumbled around in my pockets, feigning that I was looking for it. "What did I do with that thing?" I noticed the three Catholic girls were standing in front of the car now, carrying on a phony conversation. Blondie was becoming more antsy by the second.

"Come on, Felicity!" he implored. "The key!"

"I know I've got it here somewhere," I said with mock concern, opening a side pocket of my backpack.

Right on cue, the blonde girl approached my window. Blondie quickly hit the button to roll up the windows, but to his consternation nothing happened.

"Excuse me," said the blonde. "Do either of you have change for a dollar?" She was at my window but purposely hadn't looked inside yet.

"Let me check," I said. I continued going through my backpack. Blondie's level of trepidation had to be off the charts right about then. "No, I don't think I do," I finally said. I looked over at Blondie. "Sweetie, do you have change for a dollar?" Somehow I kept a straight face. Blondie looked like he was about to throw up.

The blonde girl leaned down and peered through the window. "Oh, my God!" she screeched.

"Please! Gimme the key!" screamed Blondie frantically. He reached for my backpack in desperation, and I pulled it away from him while slapping his hand away.

"Sonia! Rebecca! Come see this!" the blonde girl shouted, waving over her friends.

"Oh God!" cried Blondie. "Felicity! The key! We need to go!"

"I swear, I think I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached," I said calmly, while continuing to sift through my backpack, as if unaware of the rising storm..

The other two girls were fast approaching the car. "Felicity, goddammit, give me the fucking key!" screamed Blondie.

I set the backpack on the floor and looked at Blondie sternly. I don't care how dire his situation might have been; I would never allow such impertinence from any of my victims. "That was a big mistake, Blondie. You know I can't tolerate you talking to me like that."

Three grinning coeds now crowded around my window. "Why is he only wearing his underpants?" asked the Asian girl.

"He's been a naughty boy, and he's being punished," I replied with a smile.

"Oh my," she answered. "How embarrassing. Look how red his face is."

Indeed, Blondie's face was lit up like a red Christmas tree light. I was in seventh heaven as the wonderful events continued to unfold.

"I know," I responded. "Isn't he adorable?"

"He is. Hi, my name's Sonia," she said, extending her hand through my window. Blondie, without looking up, removed his hand from his groin just long enough to accept it with a feeble handshake.

"His name is Blondie," I offered.

The three girls giggled. "Oh, what a lovely name," said Sonia. "And speaking of lovely, check out his legs. I don't see any hair."

"They're really smooth. You should go feel them," I offered.

"Really? Can we?" asked Sonia eagerly. I smiled and nodded. She made a beeline to go around to Blondie's side, followed by her grinning friends.

"You're not to tell them that you shaved," I warned Blondie quietly.

"Oh God, Felicity," implored Blondie. "Please, let me have—"

"Hi, Blondie!" interrupted Sonia, who by then was pretty much right in his face. Her hand slid right through the open window and across his thigh. "Ooh, you're right," said Sonia. "They're like satin. You must really be embarrassed. Are you, Blondie? Sitting here in your tighty-whities, showing off your pretty legs?"

"Please, just...just leave me alone."

"Girls, feel how smooth his legs are," said Sonia.

The tall brunette girl—her name was Rebecca—took over where Sonia left off. "Oh, how adorable," said Rebecca. "Are you like this all over?" she asked while giggling. Blondie, now the depths of wretchedness, did not respond. "Check it out, Mindy," said Rebecca.

While Mindy was taking her turn with Blondie's legs, Sonia was busy running the tips of her fingers up and down Blondie's hairless arms. "Your arms are really smooth, too." She poked her head in and addressed me. "He's so soft and silky all over. I think he should be punished in a pair of panties instead of his underpants," she said.

"That's a wonderful idea," I said, laughing. "I just might have to do that someday."

“Would you like that, Blondie?” Sonia teased. “A soft, lacy pair of panties for your silky legs?”

"Please," said Blondie. "Please just....can you just go away?"

"Hmm," said Sonia, addressing her friends. "He wants us to just go away. We should talk about that." She turned back to Blondie and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't go away. We're going to confer." Sonia was thriving in the moment, much to my enjoyment.

"Please, may I just have the key?" Blondie asked me while they were huddling.

Sonia was already back at the window. "We've decided!" she said. "We're going to leave you alone and just go away." Blondie looked up at her, hopeful but unconvinced. "But before we go, we'd like to grab a little memento to take home with us. We were thinking those cute little undies will do nicely!"

All eyes were on Blondie for his reaction. He retracted his head in disbelief, his mouth wide open. I was surprised he didn't see that coming. Just another reason why I love my Blondie humiliation sessions.

"So is that a 'yes'?" asked the smiling Sonia.

Blondie turned to me with a beseeching look—I guess hoping I would swoop in and rescue him. Endearing. And delusional. I looked him up and down, smiled and said, "I get the feeling that I'm going to have a naked chauffeur for the ride home."

Blondie looked down at his underpants, then at me, then at the three expectant faces of the Catholic coeds. Finally, he simply said, "I can't."

Oh, sweet denial. It was adorable how he still thought that might work. I'm not sure where he thought that was going, but he certainly didn't have any leverage. By then he had to have realized that I wasn't going to be forthcoming with the key any time soon. And he had to have known that the girls weren't going anywhere until they had their way. So we had reached an impasse.

The thing was, only one of the five of us was out in public wearing only underpants. Only one of the five of us had it in his best interest to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible. The other four were having a grand old time at his expense, and had no problem letting the scene play out longer if the underpants-clad boy chose to do so.

“That's okay,” Sonia said, stroking his thigh again. “I’ve got all day.” Blondie pushed her wrist away, which generated an admonition from me.

"Blondie, if you dare put your hands on any of us again—well, trust me, you'll live to regret it."

He knew what I was capable of and wasn't about to test my will. Sonia continued to play with his legs while Blondie sat there suffering, contemplating his fate. At some point he must have finally realized that he was between the proverbial "rock and a hard place" and that his only recourse was to comply.

"Do you promise to leave if I do it?" he asked Sonia sullenly.

"Do what?" she asked. I was really beginning to like her.

"Take off my underpants," he responded grudgingly.

"And we get to keep them, right?" she asked. "For a souvenir."

"Okay."

"Great, it's a deal. But we want to get a nice look at your goodies first. And we might want to take some pictures." Blondie winced and said nothing. "Then we'll go," she continued. "After we get a good look and get some naked pictures." Blondie bent forward, face in hands.

Sonia grinned. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie. I promise I won't show them to anyone. It'll be for just the three of us." She looked at me. "And your friend, if she wants." I smiled and gave her the thumbs up sign. "And I can send them to you if you want, sweet cheeks," she said with a smirk.

Blondie had another thought. It seemed then that he was resigned to doing the dirty deed, but he was still worried about the end game. He turned and faced me. "What about the key?" he asked.

"I promise you'll get the key when your new friends are finished with you," I said.

"What about my shorts and shirt?"

“I’ll leave them with you when we get to my house.”

"But...but I'll be driving......I'll be driving naked."

“Exactly,” I purred.

Blondie sat still for quite a while, staring straight ahead. It was akin to an athlete psyching himself up before a big game. The difference was that he wasn't an athlete, and there was no game. And he was sitting in a car in a public place wearing only his underpants.

Then, and who knows what finally triggered it, he made his move. "Oh, God," he said, and he grabbed the waistband with both hands, lifted his bum and swiftly yanked his underpants down his legs and off his feet, then tossed them out the window into Sonia's outstretched hand. It was one of the fastest strips I've ever seen.

The scarlet-faced Blondie sat hunched over, his hands desperately covering up what we were all inevitably going to set eyes on—something he certainly had to know.

The squeals were immediate.

"Oh, my God!" shouted Mindy. "This is too much! He actually did it!"

“He's naked! And look how red he is!” said Rebecca.

Sonia poked her head inside the window. "Look at you, all naked in here. You must be absolutely mortified!"

"If you think he's mortified now, wait 'till he moves his hands and shows you what he's hiding," I said.

Sonia was so ready for that to happen. "We need to see, Blondie," she said. "We're not going anywhere until we see." Blondie remained still. Sonia was becoming impatient. "Last warning. Put your hands behind your headrest and spread out your knees, nice and wide." Blondie remained frozen.

But Sonia had an ace up her sleeve.

She casually pulled out the key fob I’d given her earlier (oh, did I forget to mention that? ) and pressed a button. The horn blared.

A thirty-something lady that was walking in front of the car looked over at us. To say that Blondie was alarmed would be a true understatement. Wide-eyed and frantic, he looked at me for a sign of the key. I held my palms upwards and shrugged.

After about a dozen ear-piercing blares, the horn stopped. Blondie, breathing rapidly, looked out his window, where a smiling Sonia was casually holding up the key fob between two fingers, just high enough for him to see.

"I'll tell you once more," she said. "Put your hands behind your headrest and spread out your knees, nice and wide."

The unnerved Blondie put his hands behind his headrest and spread out his knees, nice and wide.

Blondie had done a fabulous job of rendering himself completely hairless. That, along with his small package, gave the appearance of a prepubescent boy. But of course, he was now seventeen! I can't even imagine his humiliation. Well, on second thought, I'm an expert, so I had a pretty good idea.

The merriment that ensued was spirited. The three girls, after jostling for position, all managed to stick their heads in the window and stare down at Blondie's exposed privates. Well, they weren't very private anymore, were they?

"Oh, my God!" giggled one. "Look how teeny it is!" I will say it was smaller than his usual size. I imagine the circumstances and his embarrassment had that effect.

"And he's totally bald down there!" said another.

"This is too much!" said the third. "Is he really old enough to drive?"

"It's a cute little thing, isn't it? Cute as a little button!"

The hilarity went on, and the wretched look on Blondie's face verified his humiliation. How he was able to sit still with his hands clasped behind the headrest throughout the excruciating ordeal is beyond me.

Pictures were taken from all angles. Mindy even jumped up on the hood and snapped a picture through the front windshield. They made Blondie get on his knees and face them with his palms up against the car ceiling, then they opened the door and took quite a few photos, laughing all the while.

"Ooh, let's get his butt," said the eager Sonia. "Blondie, get on your hands and knees and face your friend." The beleaguered Blondie did so, and the giggling girls added to their photo collection. I think there was a bit of fondling going on, too, as it looked like Sonia had reached her hand between his legs. Blondie had a momentary wide-eyed expression, and he twitched his hips. It was delightful.

While he was in that position I gave him a playful, wet kiss on his lips. I have to say, my state of arousal had been building up for some time and was at a very high level. I was already quite damp, and I knew I could orgasm in short order with a little encouragement, so I put my right hand inside my panties and began fingering myself. I don't think the girls noticed, but I know Blondie did. His awareness that I was getting off on his humiliation added to my state of arousal, and helped hasten my orgasm. I cupped my free hand around his burning cheek.

"Oh, Blondie," I purred. "You're the best." Then I climaxed. "Ohhhhhhh," I said while staring at Blondie's anguished expression.

After a few moments I pulled my hand out of my pants and wiped my juices off on Blondie's shorts.

Eventually, Sonia called it. “Okay! We’re going now.”

Blondie scrambled upright. “Can I have the key?”

"Certainly," replied Sonia. She held out the key, and the hopeful Blondie extended his arm out the window. "But you're going to have to come get it," said the devious Sonia as she walked about a dozen steps and laid the key fob on the top edge of a garbage container. I grinned. That wasn't part of the script.

“Oh shit,” Blondie muttered, surveying the area nervously. He sat still, probably trying to build up the courage to leave the car for a public, naked escapade. At the time, an elderly lady with a walker was in front of the car, inching her way toward the drugstore.

"While Blondie's thinking about this, Sonia, could you hand me your phone? I'll send myself a text, so we have each other's number."

"Sure, good idea," smiled Sonia as she came to my side and handed me her phone.

"My name's Felicity," I said, extending my hand. After she shook it I started typing in my number and said, "I like your style. Maybe I'll contact you sometime and we can have some more fun with Blondie. Or someone else. I have others, if you're interested."

"Love to!" beamed Sonia as I handed her the phone. "And I'll send you the pictures from today," she offered.

"Great," I responded. "I'll share them with Blondie," I said while we both giggled.

Meanwhile, the foot traffic was non-existent, and it looked like Blondie was ready to make his move. "When you go out there, don't you dare cover up, or you’ll never get these clothes back,” I warned.

"Oh shit," he said again as he opened the car door and hightailed it toward the trash can. The hilarity was abundant, as in his haste the naked, crimson-faced Blondie tripped over the curb, breaking his fall with his hands.

Mindy captured the event on video, which of course I later viewed many times. Watching his little bits bobbing up and down and back and forth on his frantic dash back to the car has brought me considerable enjoyment over the years. Utilizing the slow-motion feature produces a wonderful effect, as I'm sure you can imagine.

Amid the considerable laughter from the four of us, Blondie managed to fumble his way through, getting the key into the ignition and starting the car.

"Bye-bye, Blondie!" yelled the girls as we were backing up.

"Thank you!" yelled Sonia while waving Blondie's underpants above her head like a victory flag..

Those were the last two words Blondie heard from them that day as he rolled up the windows and stomped on the gas pedal, burning rubber in the parking lot.

* * * * * *

The drive home was somewhat anticlimactic (well, it literally was after my climax) after the exciting romp at the drug store. At least it was anticlimactic for me—maybe not so much for Blondie. He appeared awfully nervous on the drive to my house. You'd think he'd never driven naked before.

When we arrived at my house I reached over and cupped my hand over his genitals. I looked at him and said, "I own you, Blondie. And your little boy bits. You know that, right?" He nodded silently. I was tempted to make him say it aloud, but I let it go. I think my ownership was well established. I kissed his cheek, patted his tummy, and dropped his clothes onto his lap, saying, “Thanks for the ride!”

Then I skipped across the lawn. I don't think my feet touched the grass, such was my state of bliss.

Chapter 17: Bobby: The Naked Doggie

As the reader may recall, we had Bobby under our control (after considerably more effort than I was accustomed to!) on the baseball field. I had made a couple of cuts on both sides of his shorts, and they were hanging by a few threads. He was wearing nothing else. In short order, he would be wearing nothing.

* * * * * *

"No! Please! Everyone, stop! Oh, please, let me at least keep my shorts!" he wailed, desperate to cling to his last shred of dignity.

"What's the matter, Bobby?" I asked. "You don't really think I'd cut these off and leave you naked in front of all these people, do you?" He seemed somewhat mollified, evidently thinking that I wouldn't dare do something so outrageous. Clearly he missed his buddy Johnny's naked jaunt a few minutes before.

With a grin, I pinched a piece of fabric near his waistband and glanced at my three partners in crime. They got the cue. Each one grabbed a corner of his doomed shorts, looking expectantly at me for a sign. I used my fingers to count backwards: 3, 2, then 1. We simultaneously yanked his shorts in four different directions, and in the bat of an eye Bobby was rendered completely naked.

For a solid two seconds, he just stood there in stunned silence, which was plenty of time for us to take in his raging hard-on that we had created. Then it hit him. With a squeal, he dove into that "forced naked in public" pose. He was bent over with his hands desperately clenched over his genitals, with a helpless, terrified expression on his face. It was a sight for sore eyes—that is definitely one of my favorite humiliation poses.

Fortunately, Kayla was quick with her camera and captured a fantastic picture of the moment. To this day I still delight in revisiting the picture, which has remained on my phone all this time.

While thoroughly enjoying Bobby's predicament, Andrea and I made quick work of slicing up the rest of his shorts. I saved the square patch of his back pocket that contained his minimal possessions for him. Very considerate of me, wouldn't you say?

Meanwhile, the near-hysterical Bobby was beside himself, not sure what to do. He spun in circles, looking around in desperation, first at what used to be his clothes scattered across the grass. They were completely useless to him. He looked around at us, then at his entertained audience, and realized that no help was forthcoming.

"Oh! Please! Anybody! I need some clothes! Oh, shit!" he shouted.

Not that anyone seemed particularly eager to rescue him. Judging from the grinning crowd, they were clearly enjoying the show. Plus, I'm sure no one would dare try to intervene on my fun, as they had a first-hand look what I was capable of.

I casually reached into my backpack and pulled out the very tighty-whities Johnny had sacrificed earlier. I spread them out with two hands and held them up for Bobby to see. "Would you like to have these?" I asked. Given the circumstances, the meager offer was very attractive to the would-be recipient. The age-old adage "beggars can't be choosers" certainly applied.

Bobby’s eyes locked on the underpants like a lifeline. "Yes! Please! Anything!" replied the frantic Bobby.

I smiled sweetly. “Okay. But starting tomorrow, you're not to wear underpants. Ever. And before you get these you have to do something for me. I want a nice naked photo of you, but no covering up. Now stand up straight and put your hands on your head while Kayla takes some pictures."

Judging from Bobby's expression, the terms of my offer horrified him. He seemed to clench his privates harder. "Oh God, please! Can I just have them?"

I shrugged and pulled out the scissors again. “Andrea, be a dear and hold these tight so I can cut them in half.”

"No!" screamed Bobby. "I need those! Okay, I'll do it!"

While Kayla readied her camera phone, Bobby, much to everyone's delight, slowly raised his hands to his head, cheeks burning. His erection had subsided, but only about halfway, which somehow added humor to the situation. Kayla snapped a couple of shots and Bobby, thinking she was finished, immediately covered up again. It was during the next sequence that I realized that Kayla might be even more depraved than I am—if that's possible.

“I’ll tell you when I’m finished, Bobby,” Kayla purred. "Let's see your goodies again." Bobby reluctantly moved his hands to his sides. "Hands on hips, please. And stand up straight."

When he obeyed, Kayla continued with her photography session. "Good boy. You have a pretty impressive package for a young lad. How generous of you to share it with us. Now turn around for me. I want a picture of your cute little ass."

Bobby shuffled his feet and turned himself around, providing everyone with a view they had not yet seen.

"There you go," cooed Kayla. Click. "Now reach down and grab your ankles." There was a long hesitation from Bobby. I was becoming more stimulated by the second while witnessing Kayla's performance.

Bobby peeked back over his shoulder, his face the color of a stop sign. “Please, can I just—”

“Do you want to stay naked?” Kayla cut in. Defeated, Bobby bent over at the waist and held his ankles. "Excellent," said Kayla. "I'm getting some nice pictures of your butt hole. Hold that pose, let me get a close-up. Natalie, could you do me a favor and spread his cheeks a little wider for me?"

My, oh my, Kayla was on a roll and couldn't be stopped. I wasn't planning on going that far, but I certainly had no desire to rein her in.

"Thanks, Natalie," continued Kayla. "Yes, keep holding them apart while I zoom in. Ah, perfect." Click. "Got it. Okay, Bobby, I want you to do one more thing for me, then you can have the underpants and be on your merry way. I'd like you to get down on your hands and knees and crawl around on the grass like a little doggie for me."

I remember starting to get a little damp from stimulation right then. I swear I was getting more pleasure from watching Kayla do her thing than when I was putting Bobby through his paces myself.

Bobby stood up and, unsure if he could handle any more humiliation, he just stood there with his hands over his crotch, staring at the ground. I was wondering if Kayla would be able to get Bobby to continue any further. I shouldn't have doubted her.

“Come on, Bobby,” Kayla sing-songed. “I’m not going to ask again. You’re going to be my naked doggie.”

It seemed like Bobby was unwilling, or possibly unable to do Kayla's bidding.

"Do you want Felicity to give you a haircut?" she asked. They both looked over at me and I held up the scissors, opening and closing them a few times for effect.

Kayla had pressed the right button. Bobby let out a shuddering breath….and dropped to his hands and knees.

"Good boy!" said Kayla while patting Bobby on the head. "Now roll over."

He hesitated again, and then awkwardly flipped onto his side and back, landing back on all fours.

That's a good boy!" exclaimed Kayla. Then, unbelievably, Kayla had a small piece of candy at the ready and held it up to Bobby's mouth. I almost choked on my saliva from laughing as I watched Bobby, thoroughly broken, open his mouth and accept the treat.

“Can you bark for me?” Kayla asked sweetly.

"Arf!"” Bobby muttered, eyes shut tight.

“I prefer 'woof,' actually.”

I prefer woof? You've got to be kidding me! Oh my God, she's fantastic! I might be in love.

“Woof,” groaned the miserable, crimson-faced Bobby.

“Thatta boy,” Kayla said with a smirk. “Now let’s go for a walk.”

She turned and began strolling in slow, deliberate circles. “Here, boy!” she chirped, tapping the back of her thigh like she was summoning a golden retriever. To the utter hilarity of all the onlookers, Bobby followed his master Kayla and crawled at her heels as she walked around in circles.

“Faster, doggie!” she called, breaking into a light trot.

The sight of Bobby scampering after her, his bare backside bouncing as he desperately tried to keep up with the devilish Kayla, sent the crowd into fits of laughter. Andrea videoed the entire scene, and the four of us have had several laughs over the years while viewing it together.

Finally, Kayla stopped and faced her panting, crimson-faced pet. “Sit,” she commanded.

Bobby, out of breath, obediently sat on his haunches. He immediately covered his privates.

“Good boy!” she praised, slipping another candy into his mouth. “Now stand up.”

As Bobby began to rise, Kayla gently pressed down on his shoulders. "On your knees," she whispered to him.

Bobby straightened up onto his knees, his hands diligently covering his genitals.

“Good boy,” she repeated, giving his head a few playful pats. Then she lifted her arms with her wrists dangling limp and added sweetly, “Now hold your little paws out like this.”

With a resigned groan, Bobby extended his hands forward, putting himself on full display. Of course, by this time his penis was completely flaccid. Kayla snapped a picture.

“Good boy. Now ask me for a treat.”

He hesitated just a moment—then, to our considerable amusement, Bobby remained in character. "Woof!" he barked.

"Good doggie!" she exclaimed while doling out yet another piece of candy.

It had been a virtuoso performance by Kayla, and she was about to wrap it up. She whispered to me, asking if it was okay if she could give Bobby the underpants. I handed her the underpants and the scrap of Bobby’s shorts with his keys and money.

“Okay, Bobby,” she said brightly. “You’ve been a very good naked doggie today, so I’m letting you go back to being naked Bobby now. Stay there on your knees and put your hands behind your head, please."

Bobby, beaten and now in full servitude mode, complied.

"Good, Bobby," she said while snapping another picture, then dangled the briefs just out of reach. “Would you like to put these on now and get out of here?”

“Yes, please,” he whispered.

"You need to ask for them nicely. Say: ‘Kayla, would you be so kind as to let me wear Johnny Boy’s underpants?’”

The look on Bobby’s face when he realized the tighty-whities belonged to his friend Johnny was pure gold. I think he contemplated whether to go naked rather than suffer the indignity of pulling his friend's well-worn underpants intimately against his genitalia. He ultimately chose the underpants.

"Kayla, may I please—would you be so kind as to let me wear John's—Johnny Boy's underpants?"

“Of course, dear Bobby,” she said, holding them out as the giggles behind us swelled. “Just remember what Felicity said—no more undies for you starting tomorrow. You can give these back to Johnny Boy after you thank him for letting you wear them.”

She handed over the briefs and the pocket scrap. Bobby wasted no time wriggling into them. They were a little snug—okay, very snug—but they did the trick. He looked up at Kayla expectantly.

“You can go now, Bobby,” she said sweetly.

And go he did. It was another humorous sight as we watched Bobby run off as fast as he could toward the main building. He was fortunate to get there before too many other students were inside.

I ran into him in the hallway later that day. He was wearing his P.E. shorts and a tee shirt, along with some flip-flops, so he must have had them stashed in his locker. When he saw me he flinched and blushed profusely.

I was pretty sure that from that day forward Bobby would not give me any trouble. My wishes would be his command.

At the end of the day, Kayla caught up with me and we shared a giddy recap of every highlight. As we parted ways, Kayla called out. "Oh, and thank you for letting me take over while we were doing Bobby."

“It was my pleasure,” I called back, and I meant every word.

Chapter 18: Blondie: Cafeteria Humiliation

I really enjoyed our hour-long lunch breaks during my time at Roosevelt High. Sometimes I used that time for my little humiliation escapades, but usually I just hung out with Andrea, Kayla, and Natalie at our usual spot—the second-to-last table in the back. They were those long tables with attached bench seats, and we always claimed the spots against the wall.

Our conversations varied, but at some point the topic of conversation would inevitably steer toward humiliation—often regarding a previous episode with one of our victims. We would often look at and comment on some of the pictures and videos that we had captured during one of those sessions. As you might imagine, invariably there was always a lot of laughter emanating from the four of us.

Then one day I had a little brainstorm. I suggested we liven up our lunchtime get-togethers by occasionally inviting one of our unfortunates to join us and share in our stimulating conversation. The girls were all over the idea—of course they were—so we agreed to extend an invitation to our very first guest the following day.

Naturally, that first invite had to go to Blondie.

I shot him a text that evening, telling him to meet us at our usual table at exactly 12:05. I knew he was well aware of our table—I’d caught him glancing nervously our way more than once, always quickening his step and averting his eyes. I let him know we’d be anxiously awaiting his arrival. It was only a few days removed from our venture to the drug store (which was recounted in a previous submission here), so I could only imagine what was going through his head when my name lit up his phone.

As an afterthought, I texted Becky too. I told her we were planning to have a little lunchtime fun with her brother and that she was more than welcome to join us. Her reply came almost instantly: “Sure, thanks for including me! Can’t wait!” I figuratively applauded myself, knowing that the presence of his sister would only fan the flames of whatever humiliation Blondie might endure.

I smiled while diddling myself to sleep that night in anticipation of another rendezvous with Blondie.

* * * * * *

There was an unmistakable feeling of delicious anticipation in the air as the five of us took our seats a minute or two after 12:00 and awaited our treasured guest. Sure enough, right on cue at 12:05 a very nervous-looking Blondie approached our table. We all giggled, as he was a sight for sore eyes with his short-shorts, freshly shaven legs and arms, and an already blushing face. I detected a slight wince when he spotted his sister Becky.

He approached the table tentatively, unsure of where he should sit. The look on his face conveyed that he would rather be anywhere else in the world.

“Hi, Blondie!” I chirped, like I was greeting an old friend. “Thank you so much for coming!” As if he had a choice.

I scooted to the left and gave the bench a pat. “Come sit next to me.”

He did, hesitantly sliding in beside me. Andrea was on his immediate right, against the wall, and across from him were the grinning faces of Becky, Kayla and Natalie.

“Blondie, you remember Andrea, Kayla, and Natalie, don’t you?” I asked, my tone all sugary innocence. “You met them in the hallway that day when I undressed you in front of your locker.”

The girls giggled, I'm sure while mentally picturing the mortified, naked Blondie. Blondie didn't say anything. He just blushed brighter, as only Blondie could. I was already having a marvelous time, and we were just getting started.

“Your legs weren’t as pretty that day as they are now,” I teased, running my fingers up and down his thigh. His shorts had ridden up when he sat down, giving me an abundance of his soft, silky skin to play with. It was exhilarating. “Thank you for keeping these so smooth for me.” More giggles all around. Blondie looked like he wanted to melt through the bench.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" I blurted out as I unzipped my backpack. On the way home from school the day before I stopped into a Halloween costume store and picked up some bunny ears. You know, the kind that are attached to a headband, with the long ears sticking straight up. These were white with pink insets. I knew they would look lovely on Blondie. I mean, he has soft, somewhat feminine features, and of course now he had no hair on his body. So the bunny ears would be perfect!

"I brought something for you to wear for us, Blondie," I said as I pulled them out and held them up for him to see. His look of trepidation was priceless. “I thought these would look lovely on you,” I said sweetly. "Turn your head toward me....good boy."

I placed the bunny ears on his head and took my sweet time adjusting the ears just so. Blondie was plainly embarrassed—his flushing face spoke volumes. It was such a delicious moment. I made a mental note right then and there to start a wonderful tradition of having our future lunch guests always wear the bunny ears. I would buy extras in case we ever decided to have more than one guest.

"Oh, you look adorable, Blondie. Doesn't he look adorable, girls?" Blondie's cheeks were burning, and his eyes were downcast as the girls collectively agreed that Blondie indeed looked quite adorable in his new headwear.

"Look at me, Blondie!" barked Becky, and when he did she snapped a picture. She sent it to me later, and I have to say it was exquisite. Just as exquisite was the drawing that Andrea created for me. I have to say it really captured the look, and the moment.



You may have noticed that up until that point Blondie hadn't uttered a word. I figured it was time to change that.

“So Blondie,” I began, casually twirling a strand of his hair between my fingers, “we’ve all been chatting about the night of my thirteenth birthday, and how much fun I had with you. I thought it’d be fun to hear about it from your perspective.” Blondie fidgeted in his seat. I'm sure he loathed the idea of having to recount such a humiliating event for him, especially under these circumstances.

I looked at Natalie. "Do you remember where I left off?”

"I do!" she said eagerly. "You and Blondie were sitting on the bed..." She turned toward Becky. "I believe it was Becky's bed." Becky smiled and nodded, and Natalie continued. "You were wearing clothes and, well, Blondie wasn't."

We all giggled while staring at the increasingly shamefaced Blondie.

“So Blondie,” I prompted again, “why don’t you pick up the story from there? Right after we got off the bed.”

Blondie was silent.

“Blondie?” I said, a touch of warning in my tone.

He looked at me pleadingly. “Please, Felicity….can I....can I just eat my lunch?”

"Oh sure. By all means, please do. You need your nourishment. But we want to hear your story while we all eat."

He hesitated, then mumbled, “We….got off the bed and then.…”

"Wait!" I interrupted. "Before you go on, just pull your shorts down to your knees so we can see your tighty-whities while we listen. You are wearing your tighty-whities, aren't you?"

Blondie looked around nervously. Of course, there were some curious people looking on. He had bunny ears on his head, and my reputation around Roosevelt had begun to spread. They probably knew something interesting (and probably entertaining to most!) was in the works.

I gave his shorts a playful tug. "Come on, Blondie. We want to see. Don't keep us waiting."

He knew better than to resist. Much to our delight Blondie unclasped his shorts, lifted his bum, and slid the shorts to his knees.

Andrea and I leaned in to admire the view, while Becky and Natalie stood up to look over the table. Kayla opted to drop her head under the table for a closer look. All of us were grinning.

“Very nice,” I purred in his ear, then reached for the hem of his shirt. "Let's get this up a bit so we can have a nice, clear view of your little undies, shall we?"

I tugged the shirt up to his ribs, leaving his tighty-whities on full display. I looked Blondie up and down and was becoming titillated by his condition.

"Now, you were saying?" I pressed on. "We were getting off the bed. You were naked. Tell us what happened next. Any I don't want any details left out."

I knew it was going to be excruciating for Blondie to talk about the scene I was referring to, because the humiliation was intense. Plus, it was like a double whammy that he was enduring another humiliation while having to recount one of his worst ever. It was awe-inspiring!

Blondie was still withdrawn. "I'm not going to ask you again, Blondie. What did you and I do next?"

"We cut off....we snipped off my....my pubic hair."

There was a collective squeal from the girls.

I should mention that while this was going on, both Andrea and I were earnestly caressing Blondie's thighs from either side. And from the other side of the table the devious Kayla was getting actively involved. Using her foot, she had lowered Blondie's shorts to his ankles. I looked under the table just in time to see her reach down and pull them off and set them down next to her. To my delight, Blondie emitted a cute little high-pitched squeal when he realized that his shorts had been stripped off. Then, for good measure, Kayla pulled off his tennis shoes, rendering him barefoot (the reader may remember that I didn't allow him to wear socks).

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Details, Blondie, we want details! What did I make you do while I snipped?"

"I had to.....please, you know what happened. Can you just tell it?"

"Oh, but it would mean so much more coming from you, Blondie. Do tell!"

Meanwhile, Blondie suddenly jolted up rigidly. I looked down and discovered the reason why. Kayla had slipped off her sandal and was using her toes to massage Blondie's genitals. Her foot was still on the outside of his underpants, but that would be a temporary situation. Kayla and I exchanged a wink and a puckish smile.

"Oh!" cried the startled Blondie. He reached down and tried to push the foot away, but Kayla was unyielding.

"Let's get your hands up above the table, please," I reprimanded. "You can wait until you get home to play with yourself."

Another chorus of giggles ensued. Becky and Natalie used the moment to peek under the table to follow Kayla's progress.

"Now tell us what happened next. I'll set it up for you. We were standing in Becky's room. You were naked, and I had a pair of scissors in my hand. Tell us what you had to do."

“I had... to sing,” he said quietly.

“Tell them the song.”

"It was....it was like Old MacDonald but different words."

"Sing it for us, Blondie."

Blondie was really fidgeting now, and not just because he had to sing. Kayla had managed to invade the confines of his underpants by slipping her toes into one of the leg openings. She was expertly manipulating his goodies. Oh, you just have to love Kayla! My appreciation for her was ever growing.

"Oh! Please!" said the squirming Blondie. And then, probably in hopes of getting his ordeal over with, he began to sing.

♬ “My little pee-pee has no hair, ee-eye-ee-eye-oh…” ♬
He rushed the tempo. ♬ “With a snip-snip here, and a snip-snip there…” ♬

"Excellent!" I praised. I started applauding and my companions all joined in. "Tell them about the timing with the 'snips'."

I looked down and the devilish (and I use that word with the utmost respect) Kayla was really going at it now. I could tell that Blondie's little penis was gradually becoming a bigger little penis. He was defenseless, and I have to say that my level of stimulation had risen to new heights over the whole extraordinary scene.

"Every time I said ‘snip,’ you cut off some hair," Blondie muttered, writhing in his seat.

Kayla was deftly stroking Blondie's now full-fledged hard-on (such as it was!) with her busy toes. I'm certain to this day that she would have brought him to orgasm if I hadn't intervened. But I had what I thought was a better idea.

"Oh, shoot!" I said, feigning annoyance. I glanced toward the napkin dispensers, a good twenty steps and at least seven or eight tables away. "I forgot to grab a napkin. Blondie, would you be a dear and fetch one for me?"

Blondie's alarmed eyes shot down to his crotch, then darted to the distant dispensers. He fumbled into his lunch bag, producing a crumpled napkin.

"Here, you can use mine," he offered hopefully.

"Thanks, Blondie, but I don't want your napkin." I looked down at his crotch and grinned. "Besides, you might need it to clean yourself up if you don't control yourself."

The table erupted into giggles, and Blondie's misery deepened deliciously. Gawd, I was having fun.

I wanted him to get up before his little boner started subsiding, so I gave him a directive. "Okay, Blondie, I'd like you to walk, don't run and get me a napkin right this minute. And if your hands aren't by your sides the whole time then you're not getting your shorts back until the end of the day."

He swallowed hard. He knew what he had to do.

It was an amazing scene as we watched Blondie force himself from the table and make the walk of shame in the crowded cafeteria. With the bunny ears bobbing on his head, and a few short but noticeable inches tenting his tighty-whities, it was a comical, if not downright preposterous spectacle.

As word quickly spread, the clamor from the students' reaction quickly rose to an uproar. Students pointed, laughed, gasped. There were countless phones in the air capturing videos and still shots, and behind each phone was a wide-eyed, grinning amateur photographer. The laughter increased as he toddled along, his legs stiff with embarrassment, while his little hard-on bounced with every step.

Kayla and I exchanged a gleeful fist bump. "Iconic," she whispered. We knew, without a doubt, we had just created a legendary Roosevelt High moment. Subsequently there would be many occasions when Kayla and I would toast each other in self-congratulatory homage for creating the thrilling scene.

Meanwhile, as the chaos unfolded, I leaned toward Andrea and quickly whispered a few instructions. She grinned and nodded. Plans were in motion.

When Blondie made his way back to our table, I have to say—and I didn't think this was possible—his face was redder than I had ever seen it. He practically collapsed onto the bench and plopped the napkin in front of me with trembling hands.

"Thank you, Blondie," I said sweetly, using the napkin to dab the tears of laughter streaming down my face. It took a solid minute before the cafeteria noise settled enough to continue.

"Now, where were we?" I asked, pretending to think. "Oh yes, you were singing a modified rendition of 'Old MacDonald' and I was snipping off your pubic hair. Tell the girls what happened when I handed you the scissors."

Blondie, still visibly shaking, squeezed his eyes shut for a second. "You made me...." he gulped, "you made me snip while I sang."

"Good, Blondie," I encouraged. "Then we started taking turns, right?"

"Right," he said desolately.

"We took turns until there was nothing left to cut," I said proudly. "And then we went into the bathroom. Tell them what happened in there."

"You made me shave....the rest."

"Yes! And you even had some on your little balls that I had you shave, right?" Blondie merely nodded. "Then you were completely hairless from the neck down, right?" Again Blondie nodded. "Say it."

"I was completely hairless from the neck down," he said with a quivering voice.

"Just like you are right now, right?"

Blondie nodded while staring at a spot on the table. I persisted.

"Can we see?"

Blondie flinched perceptibly. I bit my lip to suppress a giggle. I'm always amazed (and delighted!) when Blondie is surprised whenever I decide to step up his humiliation to another level. One would think he would be accustomed to my ways, but his naivete continued to show through. It was one of my favorite endearing qualities of his.

He looked around nervously. "Please, Felicity," he begged. "Don't.....please, not in here."

"Now, now, Blondie, let's be cooperative. Think about it—my friends haven’t even seen you since I asked you to keep yourself silky smooth. Isn’t that right, girls?"

"No, we haven't!" exclaimed Natalie, and the rest chimed in accordingly.

"Well, then, we have to do this, don’t we, Blondie?" I said with wide, innocent eyes. "Now, take off your underpants and hand them to Andrea."

Blondie hesitated, his chest rising and falling in short, panicked breaths.

"Please," he whimpered, "can I just....maybe just pull them down a little bit? So you can still see....but...not take them off?"

I was reveling in his begging. It was quite titillating to know how badly he wanted not to relinquish his underpants, when we both knew they were destined to come off.

"Hmm," I said, cocking my head and squinting my eyes as if I was deep in thought. "I suppose we could do that, since the girls will still be able to see how bald you are down there."

There was a slight look of relief on Blondie's face. It would be short-lived.

"But then your underpants would still cover up part of your lovely legs," I added with a little pout. "And we do love your pretty legs."

He opened his mouth for another protest, but one glance at my grin told him it was hopeless. Under the gleeful eyes at the table—and the not-so-discreet stares from half the cafeteria—he finally hooked his thumbs into his waistband, lifted his bum, and shimmied the tighty-whities down his legs and off his feet. Cheeks burning, he placed them in Andrea's outstretched palm.

Andrea didn't waste a second. Following my whispered plan, she hopped up onto the tabletop—grinning from ear to ear—and snatched Blondie's shorts from Kayla. She stood on tiptoes to reach the little window above our table, hanging the shorts on one hook and the underpants on another.

The whole cafeteria was practically vibrating with excitement. Everyone at the table—and again, many other captivated spectators—were craning their necks to catch a peek at Blondie's newly-bared privates, which Blondie was intently covering up. I managed to catch a quick glimpse when he lowered his underpants and could see that his penis had shrunk to its normal, flaccid state (translated: small). Blondie was cowering in his seat with his hands securely clasping his genitals.

Of course, this was something that I had to remedy.

"I totally understand why you’re covering up, Blondie," I said, tilting my head sympathetically. "I do. But everyone wants to see. You're going to have to pull your hands away."

For a while Blondie was unwilling—or probably just as accurately, unable—to do my bidding. His humiliation level had risen so high that it was almost like he was incapacitated. He just couldn't bring himself to expose himself under those conditions. I mean, can you blame him?

You know me, I was going to get my way. And it would be delicious.

"All right, Blondie, here's the deal," I said, leaning in. "We're almost done here. But not until you give your adoring fans a proper show. Now, you don't want me to just walk away with your shorts and underpants and leave you sitting here naked, do you?"

Blondie shook his head so fast he looked like a bobblehead.

"No, I didn’t think so," I said sweetly. "So here’s what we’re going to do."

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to a special little gem I had saved just for occasions like this: the "Final Jeopardy" theme. Becky used it on Blondie for a different purpose (humiliation was involved, of course) that night on my thirteenth birthday. The memory was so delicious I’d made sure to keep the tune handy in case I ever wanted to use it during one of my humiliation sessions.

Now was the perfect time.

"You are going to get up on the table and get on your knees with your back facing the wall. Not sitting—standing straight up on your knees. Hands behind your head, elbows out wide." I let it sink in, savoring the look of growing horror on Blondie’s face. "I’m going to play a little tune—it lasts for 30 seconds, and I know you are well-familiar with it—and you will hold that position until the tune is over."

Blondie sat still, seemingly paralyzed by his ordeal and the ramifications of my latest directive. That would not do.

Without warning, I grabbed the hem of his tee shirt and gave it a firm yank upward. When I reached his armpits, I paused, plucked the bunny ears off his head, and set them carefully on the table. Then I went back to work.

"Arms up, please," I said firmly. "I want you completely naked."

Blondie remained frozen.

"Arms up!" I barked, quite loudly.

Jolted, Blondie instantly thrust his arms high over his head. Grinning to myself, I looked down at his bared genitals while I peeled the shirt up and over his head, deliberately slowing down as I reached his bare, blushing chest. When I finally yanked it off, I fastidiously replaced the bunny ears while delighting in his profusely blushing face.

I also delighted in the other drawing that Andrea blessed me with. Notice his body language is pretty much exactly as it was in the other picture—except he looks like he's covering up with his left hand in this one. I love his downcast eyes and his blushing face—along with his bare skin. I have to say, Blondie's humiliation was exquisite!



I looked him in the eyes and smiled. "Okay, now you're ready to put on a naked show for us." I held up a single finger. "One minute to get into position, Blondie—or there will be consequences."

Blondie swallowed hard, took a shaky breath, and slowly clambered onto the table. He huddled low at first, with his chest pressed against his thighs. When he looked up at me, he reminded me of a frightened puppy. It was really cute.

"The music doesn't start until you're in the position, Blondie," I reminded him.

It clearly took every ounce of courage he had, but he slowly pushed himself upright until his back was straight, knees planted firmly, hands laced behind his head, elbows jutting outward. Completely, gloriously exposed.

I hit play.

The "Final Jeopardy" music floated through the cafeteria, barely audible over the rising roar of laughter and catcalls. The scarlet-faced Blondie could not have had a more anguished expression on his face as he absorbed the excruciating humiliation. It must have taken every fiber of his being to hold his position, exposed as he was while all eyes drank in the sight of his smooth, hairless body and undersized genitals.

There was some very humorous back-and-forth at our table, but the absolute highlight came courtesy of Becky: "I remember taking a bath together when he was six and I was looking at his little pee-pee like we are right now." She let the moment linger just long enough before adding, deadpan, "It still looks the same."

Needless to say, we absolutely lost it.

Mercifully (for Blondie), the music ended, and he bolted for the window, rising up on tiptoe and reaching high for his shorts and underpants—his bare, blushing body on full display, earning delighted squeals, wild laughter, and a fresh flurry of camera flashes to immortalize the moment forever.

I tossed him his shirt, and he yanked the bunny ears off his head, flinging them onto the table. I scooped them up and stuffed them in my backpack with a grin. I was already looking forward to the opportunity to utilize the lovely accessory again during a future play date.

As we made our way toward the exit, the buzz of excitement still crackled in the air. It had been a splendid spectacle that I had orchestrated, one that helped solidify my reputation as a connoisseur of humiliation.

I turned for one last glance. Blondie was still on the table, feverishly yanking his underpants up over his shaking legs.

I afforded myself another grin.

Chapter 19: Ruby and Tina: A Spanking, And Small Breast Humiliation (ENF)

I thought it might be a good time to come back to my girlfriends, lest we forget about them. That would be a shame, since I've had so much fun with them over the years. I'm sure you recall Tina and Ruby, two young coeds that my gang and I had the pleasure of doling out their comeuppance for their social media bullying of Andrea, Natalie and Kayla. Ah, comeuppance through humiliation—nothing quite like it.

Let's start with Ruby. I had instructed her to wear a rose in her hair to school every day. It happened to be the same rose that I stuck up her ass in the girls' bathroom. Wearing the rose served to remind everyone (and especially her) that she belonged to me now, ready to cater to my whims at a moment's notice. In the ensuing days I would occasionally run into her in the hallway. I wouldn't say anything; I would simply make eye contact with her, look up at the rose and smile. The resulting blush and downcast eyes would be all I needed to remind me—and her—of where we stood with each other.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one having fun with Ruby. According to Andrea, she and Kayla accosted her one afternoon near a conveniently placed hallway table. Kayla had come prepared. She pulled a ping-pong paddle out of her backpack and made Ruby bend over the table. Andrea lifted her skirt up her back and pulled her panties down her legs, all to the amusement of a few lingering students nearby.

Kayla grinned and said, "Time to make your ass nice and pink again."

Kayla made her count off each stroke. Ten was enough to make Ruby start begging for mercy, and indeed her backside was quite rosy. Andrea sent me a picture to prove it.



I was pretty sure Ruby was cured of her cyber-bullying habit at that point, but of course we would still have to pay her a visit now and then. You know, just to be sure.

* * * * * *

Now, Tina. Sweet, bashful, underdeveloped Tina.

Her directive? No bra. Not until, as I wittingly put it to her, "You grow some big girl tits." Indeed, Tina's breasts—if they even qualify for that terminology—were quite tiny. Tina's flat little chest and visible self-consciousness of her deficiency made it all the more enjoyable to employ my ever-growing talent for inflicting humiliation.

A few days after our encounter that forever changed Tina's life at Roosevelt High, I spotted her walking a few yards ahead of me down a mostly empty hallway. Too good an opportunity to pass up.

"Hey, Tiny Tina!" I called out loudly. She flinched, but kept walking, pretending she hadn't heard. Cute. As if ignoring me was going to save her. "Tiny Tina!" I called again, more forcefully. She froze this time, then risked a quick, fearful glance over her shoulder.

"Nice to see you, Tina," I said when I caught up to her. "Let's move out of the way. I want to talk to you." I gently pulled her by the elbow until she was leaning against the wall. I stood directly in front of her. Small as I was, she appeared quite intimidated. I guess I made quite an impression on her when we first met.

"Don't look so scared, sweetie, I'm not going to bite," I said with a smirk—not that my words calmed her one bit. "My friends tell me you’ve stopped posting nasty things about them on Facebook."

"Yes," replied Tina. "I promise I won't do that anymore."

"Oh, I'm sure you won't," I said sweetly. "But just so you know, I'll always be around....just in case you need a little reminder," I said menacingly. I glanced down suggestively at her chest. She was wearing a loose-fitting, chocolate-brown colored blouse, which tapered down the outside of her jeans. "Now, did you follow my instructions?"

Surely Tina knew it was inevitable that I would bring it up. Nevertheless, her arms snapped up over her chest as she flushed crimson.

"Y-Yes," she stammered. "I did."

"Good girl," I said approvingly. I gave a thoughtful pause, then smiled. "May I see?"

Tina’s panicked eyes darted around. At that moment, no one was paying us any attention. That would soon change.

"P-Please," she whimpered. "I promise I....I promise, I'm not wearing a.......I did what you said."

"I believe you, Tina. I do. But I’d still like to see," I said sweetly.

Tina fidgeted miserably, her eyes fixed at a spot on the floor. I stood silently while staring at her, soaking up her anguish.

Finally, she turned her back to me and lifted her blouse all the way up to her shoulders for a brief second before letting it drop down.

I chuckled. "Thank you, Tina. That was nice. You have a very lovely back. But that’s not really what I had in mind."

"P-please," she whimpered. "You could see....there was no strap....I'm not wearing one. You could see!" I delighted in the fact that she couldn't even bring herself to utter the word "bra."

Her look of desperation added fuel to my fire. "I did see that, Tina. And aren't you lucky you listened to me? Otherwise, things would be getting much worse right about now." I moved closer and put both hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. Smiling, I lovingly said, "But I really would like to see more of you."

I brought my gaze downward. Her blouse was buttoned all the way to the neck. I reached for the top button.

"No! Please!" gasped the terrified Tina, darting her eyes around again. A couple of nearby students were now looking on curiously.

"Fold your arms behind your back for me, Tina," I instructed.

Whimpering, she obeyed, her posture rigid and trembling. It was a wonderful moment. The look of resignation as she folded her arms behind her back was one of my favorite parts of the episode. She submitted to me, knowing full well that she was about to experience a humiliation that nightmares are made of. I was drunk with the power and control I had over her.

"Thank you, Tina," I said while reaching for her top button. I took my time, carefully undoing one button....then the next....all while murmuring tenderly to her. "Just a few little buttons....nothing to worry about.... let's just get these undone so we can get a niiiiice view of your itty-bitty titties." Tina shifted anxiously from foot to foot, desperate and helpless as I started on the last three buttons.... "Almost there, sweetie."

I paused to glance around. Sure enough, a small crowd of about seven or eight students had gathered, whispering excitedly—a development that I'm sure was not lost on the ill-fated Tina.

"Don't fret, sweetheart," I said, my voice all syrupy sweet. "It won't be so bad. If you had real breasts, I could understand being shy. But really, there's hardly anything to see. Just some adorable little nipples. No big deal."

I had the last button undone. "Okay, I'm going to show you off now. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your arms folded behind your back until I say otherwise."

I gently pulled her blouse apart and pinned the fabric behind her shoulders, leaving her exposed but facing me—blocking the crowd from a full view, at least for now. Even so, the look of humiliation on the crimson-faced Tina was exquisite.

"Good girl," I whispered. "You're doing so well."

The only response was the sound of her short, quick breaths.

"Okay, Tiny Tina, I'm going to leave you now. I'd like you to leave your hands behind your back until I give you a signal. Will you do that for me, Tina?"

Tina nodded feebly, blinking back tears.

"Good girl," I said. I took a last look at her chest. "Oh, these are so cute!" I said as I playfully tweaked both of her nipples with my thumbs and forefingers, causing her to nearly jump out of her shoes. I grinned, gave her a soft kiss on her fiery cheek, and walked away slowly, savoring every second of the laughter and whispers that followed me down the hall.

Before I turned the corner, I glanced back, caught Tina’s desperate eye, and mouthed, "Okay," and she immediately whirled around and fumbled at her buttons.

I sauntered toward my next class, my grin stretching from ear to ear after another perfectly executed hit and run.

I was much looking forward to future encounters with Tina and Ruby.

Chapter 20: Blondie: Forced to Strip Naked for His Sister

Periodically, I’ll lie on my bed and drift off into daydreams—reliving some of my favorite humiliation scenes and plotting out new ones. My imagination can be very productive when it comes to dreaming up scenarios for my little sessions. And unsurprisingly, one person keeps popping up in those daydreams: Blondie.

One evening I came up with a new idea. I had been requiring him to wear his tighty-whities every day, but I already had Johnny Boy wearing his tighty-whities. Bobby, as you may recall, is not allowed to wear anything underneath. So Blondie needed his own special treatment. I recalled that wonderful night on my thirteenth birthday, when I made Blondie wear panties, and how adorably mortified he looked. And now, heck, with him being so smooth all over, it just seemed appropriate to panty him. And so delicious, I might add! Also, it would be a fun surprise for the girls.

So I texted him that evening. I included his sister Becky. Here is the exchange:

Me: Blondie, I have news for you. You don't have to wear your tighty-whities anymore.

Blondie: Okay. Thanks.

Me: I’d like you to wear panties instead.

Blondie (after a long pause): Okay.

Dear boy. He knew me well enough to know it would be fruitless to protest.

Me: Beck, would you mind helping Blondie with this? You have very good taste when it comes to Blondie's wardrobe.

Becky: My pleasure! I've been laying out his shorts and tee shirt on his bed every night. Now I'll put a nice pair of panties on top for him. Maybe I'll even coordinate them with his outfit for the day.

Me: Love it! He'll look so cute! Maybe he can model them for you before he puts the rest of his clothes on.

Becky: Good idea! Even better—he can serve me breakfast in just his panties tomorrow. Our parents will already be at work.

Me: Yes! I'm sure he'll love that. Maybe you can send me a picture.

Becky: Of course!

I was about to finish up, but I pictured Blondie cringing as he read our banter, so I sat back and continued. Becky played her part to the hilt.

Me: I'm sure he'll be blushing like a little schoolgirl. And he'll look like one, too.

Becky: I know! Don't you love how red he gets when we play with him?

Me: He's the best. I've gotten other boys—and girls, for that matter—to blush pretty good but nobody does it like Blondie.

Becky: LOL

Me: Are you blushing right now, Blondie?

Blondie: No.

I didn't believe him.

Me: Come on, Blondie, are you sure you're not at least a little pink in the cheeks?

Becky: I just peeked into his room. He was definitely a little pink and he turned redder when he saw me.

Me: I figured as much. Blondie, you lied to me. You should know better. I'm afraid you'll have to be punished.

There was no response.

Me: Answer me, Blondie.

Blondie: Sorry. I didn't know I was blushing.

Me: I'm not buying that, Blondie. Don't you feel your face get hot when you blush?

Blondie didn't respond, so it was time to implement his punishment.

Me: Becky, are you in your room?

Becky: Yes

Me: On your bed?

Becky: Yep

Me: Good. Are your parents home?

Becky: No, they're at a fundraiser.

Me: Perfect! Blondie, I'd like you to get naked and go into Becky's room. You can sit on her bed, facing her. And bring your phone so we can keep texting.

There was no response, and I was unrelenting.

Me: Blondie, are you there?

Blondie: Yes I'm doing it.

Me: Are you taking all your clothes off?

Blondie: Yes

Me: Okay. Let me know when you're naked and in Becky's room.

About a minute went by.

Blondie: I'm in Becky's room.

Me: Are you naked?

Blondie: Yes

Me: Yes, what?

Blondie: Yes I'm naked.

Me: Becky, is he naked?

Becky: He is! He's standing here all naked and blushing. It's quite entertaining.

Me: Is he covering up his little boy bits?

Becky: Oh, yeah. You know how shy he is about showing off his hairless little peepee.

Me: Blondie, are you on Becky's bed?

Short pause.

Blondie: I am now.

Me: Are you blushing?

Blondie: I guess.

Becky: Oh, he's blushing, alright. He's naked on my bed and his face is as red a a fire truck.

Becky: He just read my last text and turned even redder. This is so much fun!!

Becky: [Picture of naked Blondie sitting on the bed red-faced, covering up and looking very uncomfortable]

Me: Thanks, Beck! He's looking marvelous tonight. He's been doing a fantastic job keeping his hair away and his skin so smooth.

Becky: I know. He's got the girly legs and arms. I can't wait to see him in panties.

Me: Same here. How often does he shave his legs?

Becky: So I went online and searched for the best hair removal cream. I bought some for him and showed him how to use it. It's awesome stuff. It's completely non-irritant so I even had him use it on his privates. You apply it with the spatula that it comes with, let it sit for 5 or 10 minutes, then scrape it off. All the hair comes off. It's amazing how smooth it makes him. His legs are smoother than MINE. If he shaved, I’m sure there would be a little stubble after a day or two. But this stuff keeps him silky smooth. And it lasts a long time. He could probably go longer but I've been having him do it once a week. That way he'll always be smooth in case you want to check him out.

Me: Thanks for that, Beck. Do you watch him do it?

Becky: No. I tell him he has to do it, or I'll tell you. Then he locks himself in the bathroom while he denudes himself. He's such a bashful one, that Blondie. The only time I get to see his little goodies these days is when you make him get naked. So he's hating this right now.

Me: You have my permission to make him get naked for you whenever you want, Beck.

Becky: Sounds good!

Me: But you have to send me a picture if you do. I can't get enough of naked Blondie pictures.

Becky: Will do!

Me: Blondie, from now on you're to get naked for your sister whenever she wants.

Blondie: Okay

Me: Okay, what?

Blondie: I'll get naked for Becky when she wants.

Me: Good boy. Is he still covering up, Beck?

Becky: Oh yeah. It's funny how self-conscious he is about his little weenie. I mean, it's not like I haven't seen it before.

Me: I KNOW! That's what I love about him. You'd think he'd get used to it but no matter how many times I strip him he still gets as embarrassed as all get-out. It's such a turn-on for me.

And it was such a turn-on knowing that Blondie had to read this conversation.

Me: Blondie, move your hands away from your little boy bits so your sister can see them. And spread your legs out.

Becky: [Picture of shamefaced Blondie sitting back on his haunches, fully exposed.]

Me: Thanks! So adorable!

I was starting to become aroused. It was a wonderful engagement. Blondie was in another location, but I was having a fabulous time humiliating him. I had unconsciously been kneading my crotch and just then became aware of it. I then escalated my efforts, massaging in earnest while texting with my other hand.

Me: I just can't get over how smooth he is.

Becky: I know, right? I'm staring at his little pee-pee and balls. It really looks like he still hasn't been able to grow any hair yet. It looks like a prepubescent boy's little package. And he's 17. LOL!

Me: Blondie, how old do you think you look down there? Be honest.

There was a pause, and I'm sure it pained him immeasurably to type the next text.

Blondie: 12?

I loved the question mark.

Me: Hmm, that seems generous. The absence of hair would make you 11 or maybe 12, but your little boy bits don't measure up. What do you think, Beck?

Becky: I agree with you. I think that's a little high when you consider the size.

Me: You're getting a good look at it right now. Can you send me a close-up of his little boy bits so we can both assess this a little more accurately?

Becky: [my requested close-up picture of Blondie's little boy bits]

Me: Thanks, Beck. What a great picture. Even though it is a close-up his penis still looks quite small.

Becky: I know! No way we can go with 11 or 12 with that little thing.

Me: I totally agree. More like 9 or 10, wouldn't you say?

Becky: Yes, definitely 9 or 10. Shall we compromise and go with 9 1/2?

Me: Yes! Perfect! It's official, Blondie's bits resemble the bits of a 9 1/2-year-old boy.

Becky:

I remember thinking (quite pleasurably, I might add!) that Blondie had to be absolutely mortified as he sat there naked and reading our belittling remarks about his privates—even though Becky and I were both exaggerating a bit. His penis was smaller than average in size, but it was bigger than a 9 1/2-year-old's.

In any case, it was time to include him in the stimulating conversation.

Me: Blondie, wouldn't you agree that your genitals resemble that of a 9 1/2-year-old boy?

Blondie, after a long pause: If you say so.

Me: I'm not asking you what I said. I want to know what you THINK.

Blondie: I really can't say. I don't know.

Me: I'm getting a bit impatient with you, Blondie. Now look down at your bald little boy bits and tell me what you see.

Blondie: A penis and testicles.

Me: Are you being a smart ass? You'll be sorry for that.

I paused momentarily while devising a delicious punishment in my head.

Me: Becky, do you still have that stool in your room?

Becky: Yes.

Me: Good. I'll come back to that. Blondie, describe your penis to me. What do you think about the size? And you'd better be truthful with me.

Blondie: I guess it's a little small.

Me: You GUESS? And only a LITTLE?

Blondie: Okay it is small.

Me: Would you say you have little boy bits or big boy bits?

Blondie: Little.

Smart boy. He knew I wouldn't accept the other option, so he just got it over with.

Me: Little what?

Blondie: Little boy

Blondie: bits

Me: Tell me what you have down there.

Blondie: I have little boy bits.

Me: And how much hair do you have on your little boy bits?

Blondie: None.

Me: Say it in a full sentence, please.

Blondie: I have no hair on my little boy bits.

Me: So you have bald, little boy bits. Before you said you have the genitals of a 12-year-old. Most 12-year-olds don't have bald, little boy bits. Would you like to amend that? What age do you really think they look like?

Blondie: 9 1/2

Me: Excellent! The three of us are all in agreement. You have the genitals of a 9 1/2-year-old.

Becky:

Becky:

Me: How old were you when you started puberty?

Thanks to the accounts from Becky, Brenda and my sister Julie, I knew he started very late. And I knew he would be uncomfortable to have to talk about it with us.

Blondie: I think I was 14.

Me: Are you sure? I heard it may have been as late as 15.

Blondie: Maybe. I don't know. It was somewhere around 14 or 15.

Becky: Closer to 15. I remember it was late in his sophomore year when Brenda got him naked out at the soccer field. Actually, he wasn't quite naked because he was wearing a black bra. Anyway I got a pretty good look, and he was still as bald as a cucumber. And of course, he had little boy bits.

Me: Very similar to what he has right now.

Becky: Yes! Exactly!

Me: It was only a few months ago that Blondie and I were sitting where you two are right now. He had some pubic hair then. But when we left the room he didn't.

Becky: I know! You surprised us when you exposed him to us. It was awesome. That's when Brenda said, "He’s got a cleany teeny peenie weenie," and we were dying laughing.

Me: That was hilarious. I have to say I like him better without the hair. I think I'll keep him smooth forever. He's so CUTE when he's all naked and hairless and blushing.

Becky: It must be killing him to be naked like this in front of me.

Me: Oh, trust me, he's just hating this. I mean, he's 17 and all bare against his will in front of his sister.

Becky: God, we've had SO much fun with him these last few months.

Me: I'll say. Hey, this session has gotten me a little excited, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. Would you mind taking over for a while? Maybe you could tell me a little bit about when you and Brenda took Blondie to Victoria's Secret. I already heard about it from my sister, but it'd be fun hearing about it from you.

Becky: My pleasure. And hopefully yours!

Me: Blondie, I'd like you to get the stool, set it down next to the bed facing Becky, and stand on it with your hands clasped behind your head while Becky tells the story. You can leave your phone on the bed.

I let a few moments go by before continuing.

Me: Is he doing it, Beck?

A split second after I sent the message I received an exquisite full body shot of the denuded Blondie, stretched out on the step stool, looking absolutely miserable. My level of stimulation rose quite a few notches as I viewed the photo.

Me: Fantastic, Beck. He looks marvelous.

Becky: Doesn't he, though? God, he is hating this.

Me: I know. It's awesome.

Becky: I get the feeling you're ready for me.

Me: Oh, yeah. Why don't you use voice text so Blondie can hear you talk about his humiliation. While he's standing there humiliated. LOL!

Becky: Great idea!

I opened up my iPad and pulled up the picture of Blondie on the stool and set it in front of me for added stimulation.

The following is Becky's account. I've made changes with the proper corrections for punctuation that didn't come through with the voice texts.

Becky: You know the story, so I'll tell you the good parts. Julie coaxed him into trying on a teddy. She waited on the other side of the waiting room door and made him hand over all his clothes over the door. Your sister played her part perfectly.

Becky: Brenda and I peeked over the door. He was blushing like he is now and had both hands covering his little boy bits.

Becky: Julie draped a sexy-looking teddy over the door for him to put on. Then she made him come out and show her. There were a few other people in the store. You can imagine how embarrassed he was.

Becky: Then when he was back in the dressing room, she told him about their bra and panty sale and insisted that he try a set on.

My state of arousal was ever increasing over Becky's wonderful recap. Glancing back and forth from my phone to the picture of the miserable, naked Blondie on my iPad really had me going.

Becky: She even asked him what his bra cup size was.

Becky: Then came my favorite part. Julie used her key and went bursting into the room. The shocked expression on Blondie's face was priceless. He was all freaked out, hunched over and clenching his little goodies so Julie couldn't see.

Becky: She told him she needed to get his measurements. Can you believe it? LOL! He's bare-assed naked and she needed to get his measurements.

Becky: Brenda and I, plus these two very interested teenage girls all came into the room. I think Blondie wanted to die on the spot.

Becky: Blondie, didn't you want to just die on the spot?

Becky: It appears Blondie doesn't want to talk about it.

Becky: Anyway, Julie takes her time getting all these measurements, acting very professional, like it was something she did all the time.

Becky: She had him raise his arms high in the air so she could get his waist measurement. Julie said it was in case he wanted to buy a corset.

Becky: Then she got down on her knees to measure his hips for proper panty size. She spent a lot of time down there, lol. Finally, she stood up and said, "Definitely an extra small." LOL! I had tears running down my face, I was laughing so hard.

Becky: Oh, Felicity, you should have seen Blondie. You would have loved it.

I wasn't there, but needless to say I was loving it. I had already climaxed a few moments before, but I let Becky go on while I luxuriated in the moment.

Me: That's okay, Becky. You made me feel like I was there. That was fantastic. Thanks!

Becky: Glad I could help!

Me: Can you give Blondie back his phone? He can put his arms down but tell him to stay on the stool.

Becky: Done.

Me: And thank YOU, Blondie. Once again you've given me a lot of pleasure.

There was no response from Blondie, so I pressed on.

Me: Blondie, don't forget what I said about your underwear from now on.

Blondie: Okay

Me: Tell me what you're going to do from now on.

Blondie: Panties

Me: Full sentence, please.

Blondie: I'm going to wear panties from now on.

Me: Yes, and I'm SO looking forward to having you model them for me.

Me: See you, Beck. Have fun setting Blondie up with his panties. And getting him naked whenever you want.

Becky: Will do!

Me: Bye-bye, my naked Blondie.

Blondie: Bye

* * * * * *

It somewhat surprised me how much I enjoyed that session, given that I wasn’t even there in the flesh to savor Blondie’s humiliation myself. It proved to be a portent of things to come, as I subsequently had numerous pleasurable experiences in the same manner when I took control of a teacher I had by the name of Miss Joplin.

Once again, Blondie had unwittingly opened new doors for me in my ever-expanding journey through the delicious world of humiliation.

Chapter 21: Johnny Boy: An Unwelcome Erection Exposed

A little over a week had gone by since the fabulous humiliation session with Blondie in the cafeteria. It was about fifteen minutes before the first bell, and the four of us were gathered in the hallway giggling over the pictures of the event. We spent a little extra time on the picture of him on the table, upright on his knees. He was naked but for some bunny ears on his head, and his head was red as a tomato.

"The bunny ears were a great touch, Felicity," Andrea giggled.

"Thanks," I said, beaming. "Doesn't he look adorable?"

Natalie zoomed in. "Look at his face—he’s mortified."

"I wouldn't know," said Kayla. "I can't take my eyes off his hairless little dick," she said, eliciting boisterous laughter.

"Maybe it will look bigger if we do this," said Andrea as she spread her fingers on the phone screen and enlarged the area around Blondie's crotch.
There was momentary silence as we stared at the zoomed picture.

"I don't think so," I said, evoking more hilarity.

As we started to move on to one of the videos, Kayla interrupted us. "Speaking of hairless little dicks, there's Johnny Boy," she said while gesturing to my right with a nod.

Sure enough our beloved Johnny Boy was down the hall, leaning against the wall while studiously poring over a textbook. As I watched him I felt a stirring inside. I think the pictures of Blondie may have gotten me worked up a bit.

"Let's go pay Johnny Boy a visit," I purred, already turning toward him. The girls didn’t need convincing—they trailed behind me, giddy and whispering.

Johnny was so deep in his book that he didn't see us milling around him.

“Good morning, Johnny Boy,” I greeted cheerfully.

He almost jumped out of his shoes, his book flopping to the floor.

Johnny was so shaken up that his book went flying out of his hands and fell to the floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Johnny, I didn't mean to startle you," I said.

Johnny, quite flustered, had no response. He stood rigidly and had the look of a frightened puppy as his eyes darted around to the four of us. My enjoyment level was ever increasing as I contemplated my next move.

"No need to be scared, Johnny Boy," I said consolingly. "I just wanted to say hello. How have you been?"

I'm sure Johnny was doubting my sincerity, but he really had no alternative other than to engage me.

“F-fine… thanks. How about you?” he managed.

He was so cute, and his discomfiture only added fuel to my fire.

"Great, Johnny Boy! And thank you for asking!" I replied enthusiastically. Johnny didn't know what to say, and just stood there, fidgeting awkwardly.

I checked the clock—still a few minutes before the bell. Perfect. I let the uncomfortable silence play out for a few moments before continuing.

“It’s been too long, Johnny Boy. I missed you,” I said softly, stepping closer.

Again, Johnny was speechless.

"Did you miss me?" I asked.

"Y-Yes, I did," he responded hesitantly.

I reached up and gently cupped his burning cheek. "Ah, that's sweet, Johnny Boy," I said . "Let's see, the last time I saw you was that day in the schoolyard. You were naked. Do you remember that, Johnny?"

As if he'll ever forget!

Johnny blushed brighter as I looked him in the eyes with a leering grin. He looked straight down as he spoke. "Y-Yes," was all he could muster.

"You were running away, all bare and naked. It was so precious. You were in such a hurry you forgot your underpants."

"I-I know. P-Please, can I go now?" he asked optimistically.

"Oh, come on, Johnny Boy. We're having such a nice conversation. Besides, I need to make sure you're wearing your tighty-whities like I asked you to. Will you show me?"

Johnny looked around anxiously at the growing number of students nearby. "I am!" he said breathlessly. "I'm wearing them! I promise!"

"I believe you, Johnny, I do. But I need to see."

He hesitated, then awkwardly pulled up the corner of his shirt, reached down, and tugged just the waistband of his underwear above his jeans. He looked up at me hopefully.

"See?" he said. "I'm wearing them."

I just love it when they do this. It's so adorable. Johnny had to know that this would not be enough to satisfy me. But he so desperately wanted not to have to lower his pants that he held out a razor-thin ray of hope that I would give him a pass for this feeble effort and move on. Fat chance.

"That was nice, Johnny Boy, and I appreciate the attempt, but I want to see all of your tighty-whities. Now be a good boy and pull your pants down for me."

He knew what he had to do. With fumbling hands and a very red face, Johnny undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and unzipped. He paused for a moment, then lowered them just below the edge of his briefs. He awkwardly covered himself with one hand over the decidedly undersized protuberance at his crotch, while trying to hold his pants up with the other.

It was a delectable vision, so I had to snap a photo.

"All the way down, Johnny. Let's get those pants down to your ankles so I can see better."

Johnny briskly shoved his pants all the way down and quickly returned his hands to try to cover up his embarrassment.

“Good boy,” I said, practically purring. “Now one last thing—and I know this will be embarrassing for you because you dearly want to cover up that little bump down there—but I need to see the full view, so I'd like you to pull your shirt up to your chest and hold it up for me with both hands."

Whimpering softly, the ever-compliant Johnny eased the death grip he had over his little genitals and took hold of his shirt. He slowly raised it up his bare tummy, coming to rest just below his breastbone.

"Higher, Johnny Boy. Pull it up above your nipples. I want to see more of you."

Johnny did so. Much to my delight, he wore his humiliation on his face with a miserable expression.

"Good boy, Johnny," I said as I advanced toward him. "You have such lovely, virgin-like skin," I purred while strumming my fingers across his sides and his tummy. I delved further, slipping my hands inside the back of his underpants and caressing his smooth bum. I was luxuriating in the moment.

“Oh Johnny,” I sighed. “You’re just too precious for words.”

Honestly, I actually was feeling a just a little sorry for him. But I was getting too caught up in the moment to show Johnny any mercy, as my appetite for humiliation was off the charts.

I took a step back and gave him a slow, appraising look—eyes drifting down to his little white briefs, then back up to meet his wide, panicked gaze.

“Would you mind,” I asked sweetly, like I was requesting a sip of his soda, “if I look inside your underpants and have a peek at your little penis?"

The look on Johnny’s face was priceless. His jaw dropped. His eyes went wide. His whole body seemed to jolt.

“N-no! Please, no!” he begged, voice cracking with panic.

"Ah, don't be shy, Johnny Boy. I've seen it before. It's such a cute little thing, and it's been so long since I've seen it. We really need to do this more often so I can get my 'Johnny Boy's little penis' fix."

The laughter behind me was exuberant. To my delight, I noticed several amused students looking on intently. I'm sure Johnny was aware of the growing audience, which undoubtedly served to ratchet up his humiliation.

"Let's just have a little look-see here," I said as I leaned forward and tugged open the front of his underpants. Even though I had seen it before, it was still amusing to be greeted by such a little-bitty penis. I mean, it really was tiny. I can't say I've seen a lot of penises in my time, but I have seen a few, and Johnny Boy's is the smallest I've ever encountered. It most certainly had to be a bone of contention for him, so of course I would make a point to pounce on the opportunity to shame him further.

I continued to peer at Johnny's penis. I stifled a giggle because I decided to take a different approach. I leaned a little closer, as if I were inspecting something mysterious and rare.

"Hmm," I said, drawing it out. “That’s odd. I don’t see it. Did you forget to bring it with you today, Johnny?”

More laughter ensued. Johnny looked like he might actually cry. His fists were clenched, face molten red, eyes locked somewhere around his shoelaces.

I didn't let that hinder me. "Gosh, it has to be in here somewhere. Is it hibernating?"

I looked up at him, all wide-eyed innocence.

“Is it shy? Should we sing to it? Maybe give it a pep talk?”

The laughter behind me was reaching delightful levels, which only spurred me on.

“Here, boy!” I called out, peeking theatrically into the waistband of his underpants. "Here, Johnny Boy's little penis! Come out, come out wherever you are!"

The hallway echoed with giggles and snorts. Johnny winced as I let the waistband snap lightly back against his stomach. I turned to my giggling friends and gave an exaggerated shrug, palms up.

"I give up. See if you can find it."

Without needing further encouragement, Andrea, Kayla, and Natalie leaned in, pretending to conduct a joint investigation.

“I see what you mean,” Andrea said through her laughter. "There's no penis to be found."

"And it's not like it's hiding behind his hair," said Natalie. "Because there is no hair."

"We might have to pull his underpants down, Felicity," offered Kayla. "Then maybe we can find it."

"No!" yelped Johnny. "Please, no!"

I advanced forward, and the girls respectfully stepped back and allowed me to take over again. He still held his shirt up like a dutiful little assistant in his own humiliation, while he shuffled his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. It was a very humorous sight, what with his pants collected at his ankles.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Johnny Boy?” I cooed. "Don't you want to show your baby boy bits off to all these lovely people?"

"Oh, God! No! Please!"

"Well, in any case I'm not going anywhere until I find your penis," I said as I slid my hand into the front of his underpants. Johnny almost jumped out of his pants with the intrusion. "Don't worry, Johnny Boy," I said soothingly. "I'll be very gentle, and loving. I just want to see if your baby boy penis wants to come out and play today." I tickled his balls for a bit before taking hold of his penis, which of course was visible to me all along.

"Wait! I think I found something!" I shouted quite loudly for effect, bringing on another chorus of laughter. "Now I understand why we couldn't see it. I can barely get my fingers around it. It's rather tiny."

I continued to play around with poor Johnny's little package. Much to my delight, he let out a few high-pitched yelps while I thoroughly explored the contents of his underpants.

Then I decided to focus on his penis. At first I only needed my thumb and index finger, but within a minute or so his penis started coming out of hibernation. (giggle)

"Ooh, his little pee-pee is in a happy zone. I think Johnny Boy likes me," I said. "Do you like me, Johnny?" I asked as I looked him in the eyes and continued to play with his now active member.

There was no response from Johnny other than short, quick breaths and one delectable high-pitched squeal. I was in seventh heaven over the fabulous scene. I was barely aware of all the people around us, so locked in I was with my victim and his ever-increasing humiliation.

It wasn't long before Johnny was fully erect. As one might have guessed, it was still rather small, relatively speaking. I didn't have a ruler handy, but at the time I was guessing it was between three and four inches long—probably closer to three. How cute!

"Such a cute little woody, Johnny Boy," I cooed as I continued to fondle his cute little woody.

I had Johnny pretty worked up, and I certainly could have made him cum. I almost did, and this might sound kind of strange, but I hadn't gotten anyone off up to that point (other than myself, of course), and I wanted to save my first imposed humiliating orgasm for someone else. Blondie was my first victim and is my favorite patsy. It just seemed appropriate at the time to have him be the first I bring to an unwanted, humiliating ejaculation. At one point I even imagined Blondie standing there all humiliated instead of Johnny, and I became even more excited.

So Johnny Boy's orgasm would have to wait for another time.

But his humiliation would not. I moved closer to him and snuggled up against him. I stretched out my fingers against the material of his underpants and started pushing them down. I looked up, and Johnny was wide-eyed and aghast. He finally was able to formulate some words.

"Please don't!" he begged, softly and breathlessly.

"It's okay, Johnny," I responded. "At least I found your penis. And now that it is longer, maybe it won't be so embarrassing when everyone sees it."

"No!" he said louder.

I now had his underpants down to his mid-thighs. I was still pressing against him, so his exposure was restricted. I could slightly feel his hardness against my midsection, and I grinded against him just to make sure he stayed that way for me. I was ready for the final humiliation, that being the spectacle of his hairless little hard-on being put on display for all to see.

At some point someone yanked Johnny's underpants down to his ankles. I didn't see who it was, but I'm guessing it was either Kayla or Andrea.

"It's time, Johnny Boy," I said to him softly. "I'm going to back away now." Johnny shook his head vigorously from side to side. He had a look of panic on his face. God, I was loving it.

"Yes, Johnny, I'm going to have you exposed. Your bald baby boy bits are very special, and I think everyone needs to see them, especially while you have a baby boner. I'd like you to stay as you are until I decide we are done. Don't try to cover up, sweetie."

With that I stepped aside and joined the rest of the group. I'm not sure I can properly put into words how wonderful the scene was for me, but I'll try:

I stood with a shit-eating grin plastered on my face amid the thunderous laughter and stared at the ill-fated, crimson-faced Johnny Boy, who submissively stood there with his hairless little boner in all its glory pointing straight out at us like a little squirt gun. It was a vision that I'm sure will be etched in my memory bank for eternity.

I let it play out for a minute or two, allowing plenty of photos to be taken—photos that would probably evoke hilarity for many, and most certainly stimulating self-pleasure for me.

Satisfied, gave Johnny a pat on his chest and said cheerfully, “Well done, Johnny Boy. That was very brave of you. You can put yourself back together now.”

Johnny may have set a record for the shortest time in history to restore pants from ankles to waist. He then pulled down his shirt to the sound of the warning bell, and the very entertained crowd began to disperse. I watched with delicious satisfaction as my freshly humiliated victim scampered off.

Even hours later, long after the crowd had scattered and Johnny had vanished, the giddy grin on my face remained.