© 2001 by Blondie.
This is a work of fiction, and is fantasy only. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For ages 18 and older only.
Chapter 1: Stripped of Pajamas
Chapter 2: A Mortifying Show-and-Tell
Chapter 3: Naked in the Car
Chapter 4: Naked Servant
Chapter 5: A Nude Spanking
Chapter 6: The Sordid Game
Chapter 7: Public Nudity at the Drive-Through
Chapter 8: Naked Ordeal in the City Park
Chapter 9: Paraded Naked
Chapter 10: Forced Orgasm
Chapter 1: Stripped of Pajamas
The Attack
Let’s go back a few years to when I’m 14 years old and a freshman in high school. I’m small for my age, and a very late developer. All the other guys in my class have developed bodily hair and their penises have gotten bigger. But puberty hasn’t even started for me, a fact that has caused me considerable grief and anguish. I don’t even go to a PE class—fortunately my school gives me the choice—for fear of anybody seeing my prepubescent body.
It is the beginning of Spring Break and I’m sleeping over at a friend’s house along with five other guys from my class. The parents are away, but the sister and one of her friends are in the next room. They’re two years older than we are. Before crashing I change into a pair of pajamas. I do this in the bathroom so I have privacy. I realize that the others will just strip down to their underwear, but I don’t even want my legs exposed, so I put my pj's on over my underpants.
When I exit the bathroom there are a few snickers. I try to ignore them and climb into my bed.
Suddenly one guy, Bruce, says, “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Let’s make Blondie walk around nude.”
Bruce has pretty much made his homosexual tendencies public—and I know from things he has said in the past that he has a sadistic streak to him—so I’m sure he would really love to see this happen. I tense up inside and act like I don’t hear him. Everybody just chuckles, thinking he’s kidding, but he repeats himself.
“No, I’m serious,” he continues. “Let’s really make Blondie walk around nude.”
After a little more prodding, Bruce and a couple other guys start making their way toward my bed. I grab onto the covers and hold on for dear life. I’m putting up a surprisingly good struggle as I frantically hang onto the covers as they try to tear them away. The three guys are pulling at the covers while the other three watch with great interest.
I was outnumbered, and finally the inevitable happens. The covers give way and are torn off the bed. I plead with them to leave me alone, but somebody grabs my legs and I’m dragged down to the floor. My arms are pinned above my head while somebody else holds my ankles. Bruce has a sly grin on his face as he stands over me. I’m struggling mightily but to no avail. Bruce kneels down and starts unbuttoning my pajama top, and I’m screaming bloody murder.
At that moment the sister, Tammy, barges into the room to see what the commotion is all about. She surveys the scene with an impish grin of her own.
“What in the world are you guys doing to Blondie?” she inquires.
“We’re going to make him walk around nude,” responds Bruce in a matter-of-fact manner as if it was a normal, everyday occurrence.
Everyone looks to Tammy for a reaction. I am dearly hoping that the big sister puts an abrupt end to the sordid proceedings. But to my consternation Tammy’s eyes light up and she yells toward her bedroom.
“Hey Donna, you gotta come in here and check this out! If I know you—and I think I do (she giggles)—I think you’ll want to see this!”
Donna, a very attractive Asian girl, enters posthaste. I had seen her once before and remember wishing that she was a couple of years younger. I also remember that she has a devilish smile. I could sense right away that her presence did not bode well for me. Little did I know at the time that she had a strong predilection toward humiliation, especially involving teenage boys.
“What’s up?” she asks as she peruses the room.
Tammy explains with a grin on her face, “They’re going to make Blondie walk around nude!”
Donna looks at me and grins. “Oh, this is too precious!” she exclaims excitedly while walking closer for a better view. “I’ve always wanted to see a boy get stripped!” She looks me up and down and grins her devilish grin. “And I think he’ll be perfect!”
What's that supposed to mean?
I’m getting very nervous about the potentiality of her wishes becoming reality. It would be traumatic enough to be stripped in front of my friends, but with the two girls in the room it would be devastating.
Tammy and Donna are standing over me with keen interest while everybody else is taking it in like it's some sort of exhibition. Bruce continues unbuttoning my pajama top as I continue to struggle vigorously.
But my struggles go for naught as the top is pulled above my head and off my arms with ease. It is the first time in years that I’m exposed like this to someone other than a doctor. I am beside myself with embarrassment.
“Oh, I can’t resist,” Donna says, and she bends down and starts tickling my ribs and hairless armpits.
“Look at him squirming around!” cries Donna gleefully.
I’m very ticklish and I’m sure it is a humorous sight as I react to Donna’s tickling by flailing around like a live fish on a boat deck while being restrained by my friends. Everybody seems to be having a glorious time at my expense.
While I’m being tickled the grinning Bruce wastes no time and to my horror he goes to work on my pajama bottoms. I’m still flapping around as he pulls open the snaps and exposes my underpants.
“Oh God, please stop!” I scream at both Donna and Bruce.
Donna finally stops tickling me but Bruce is just getting started. He slowly, teasingly begins to lower my pajama bottoms.
“Are you going to strip him naked?” inquires Donna, her eyes wide-eyed with excitement. “I want to see him squirming around naked!” she says, grinning freely.
"We're going to make him walk around nude," Bruce repeats yet again.
At this point I realize just how serious he is about stripping me naked—and making me walk around nude—and I am absolutely terrified at the notion.
“Please, Bruce, please! No!” I continue to scream as I try to kick my legs.
“My, aren’t we the feisty one?” teases Donna as she leans down to lend Bruce a hand.
Bruce steps aside and defers to Donna, probably sensing that my humiliation would be intensified if a girl does the dirty deed. Horrified, I struggle mightily, but my struggles are in vain. My pajama bottoms continue their tantalizingly slow descent at Donna’s hands. I feel my thighs exposed as my pajamas are lowered to my knees.
"Your undies are showing," says the grinning Donna as she continues with her mission. "How embarrassing," she giggles while pulling my pajamas down further. “Ooh, check out your pretty little girly legs,” she teases as she runs her fingers from my thighs down to my calves. "So nice and smooth. Did you shave them this morning?"
While everyone laughs I continue to kick and scream. My pajamas are now bundled up at my ankles. Donna stands up to finish the task. The guys holding my legs let go momentarily to allow Donna to finish her task.
“Off they go!” exults Donna as she pulls my pajama bottoms inside out and off my legs.
My ankles are grabbed again and I’m now lying spread-eagled, clad only in my tighty-whities. There is considerable hollering and cheering, and the sight of Donna standing over me and leering at my near nakedness is excruciating. It is by far the most humiliating feeling I’ve ever experienced. I clench my eyes shut in anguish, as I can’t bear to look at the grinning faces above me.
"Just as I thought,” comments Bruce. “He’s smooth as a babe."
"Maybe we should make him walk around for us in his tighty-whities first," said Donna.
"But I want to see what he's got under here," he says as he reaches down and flicks the elastic band of my underpants.
I'm ready to die of mortification on the spot as I scream and flail away like there is no tomorrow.
“Oh, yes!” squeals Donna. “Let’s strip off his undies and make him parade around naked for us!” She grins wider. “And after that we’ll make him put on a little nudie show for us!”
I have no idea what kind of "show” she has in mind, but it certainly adds to my terror.
“Are you really gonna do it?” asks the grinning, obviously titillated Tammy.
Donna looks up at her friend and smiles wickedly.
“What, you think I'm gonna stop now?” eliciting a laugh from Tammy.
With that she uses both hands to cup her fingers around the band on either side of my underpants. I am nearly hyperventilating, such is my state of panic. Donna leans forward, putting her face close to mine.
“Are you ready, Blondie boy?” she teases. She rubs her nose against mine and says, "Are you ready to get naked for me? I want to see you all naked, Blondie. All naked and embarrassed." She pauses, smiles devilishly again and says, "I'm about to see your little goodies, yes I am!”
She draws back and examines the small protrusion in my underpants. She looks back up at me and teases, “It doesn't look like there's much there, little boy. I’ll bet you haven’t even started puberty, have you? Are you hairless all over?” I don’t answer, and she says, “Well, I think it’s time we find out!”
I glance at Bruce and he is standing over me, grinning lasciviously. To my disgust, he is kneading his crotch.
"Blondie is about to walk around for us, totally nude," he says.
“No! No! No!” I scream frantically.
They Back Off
Then a very curious thing happens. Bruce holds Donna back and whispers something to her and the others. After a long discussion they giggle and nod in agreement.
Then, to my surprise and utmost relief they let me go. I open my eyes, and an uneasy feeling comes over me as I see one of the guys walking out of the room with my pajamas.
“We were just having some fun with you, Blondie. It's getting late, let’s all go to sleep,” says Bruce. "We've got all day tomorrow to play with you."
The giggling girls leave, and the guys head toward their respective beds. I dearly want to put my pajamas back on for reassurance.
“May I please have my pajamas back?” I ask pleadingly.
“Pajamas?” answers Bruce. “I don’t remember seeing any pajamas. Any of you guys see a pair of pajamas?”
Everyone just chuckles and it is apparent I won’t be seeing my pajamas again tonight. I run into the bathroom to retrieve my clothes and am aghast to find that they are missing also.
I come back out to the bedroom and plead, “Come on, you guys, what did you do with my clothes?”
“Go to bed, Blondie,” Bruce says. “We’ll worry about that tomorrow.”
Everybody laughs. I go to bed, feeling very ill at ease. I wonder why a couple of the guys that I considered my friends didn’t come to my aid. But it dawns on me that if I were in their shoes I would probably do likewise—otherwise I might become a victim also.
Still, it is disturbing that they seemed to secretly, if not openly enjoy witnessing my humiliation. Is that just human nature? I wonder to myself if I would feel the same way. I have to admit, that though I can't explain why, I almost certainly would.
But this isn't happening to somebody else. It's happening to me!
And what did Bruce mean about having all day tomorrow to play with me? I shudder at the thought.
Finally, I manage to fall asleep, but I have a very restless slumber, as I am very apprehensive about what tomorrow has in store for me.
. Nice set-up... wonder if the victim would have the balls, to try and 'strike first' and get everyone to gang up on, umm, thingymabob, i forgot the bully's name...
- only thing that's certain at this point is that he survives the day, unless this is narrated by his ghost 
