Stripped By Friends

Stories about boys ending up in compromising situations, preferably naked and embarrassed, as the name suggests.
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Blondie
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Stripped By Friends, Chapter 2

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Chapter 2: A Mortifying Show-and-Tell

Ushered to the Car in My Underpants

The next morning I wake up and the guys are putting their clothes on.

“Let’s go, Blondie,” Bruce says. “Tammy’s taking us all to the grocery store to buy some food for breakfast.”

I look around hopefully, but my clothes are still missing.

“Where are my clothes?” I ask Bruce.

“Don’t worry about it, you look just fine as you are,” replied Bruce.

“But I can’t go outside like this!”

“Ah, but you can, Blondie boy.…well, actually you don’t have to if you don’t want to. In fact, you have a choice. Either you come out willingly dressed as you are or you can refuse, in which case we’ll yank off your underpants and drag you out there bare-assed.”

Everyone laughs at the prospect. Tammy and Donna are standing at the doorway of the room with their coats on, grinning widely. I suddenly realize that I could well be on my way to a living nightmare.

“So it’s your call, Blondie,” continues Bruce. “Are you coming with us in your underpants are or are you coming with us nude?”

“I hope Blondie keeps this up,” Donna offers. “I want to see him naked.”

In the midst of the giggling I muster up the nerve to get out of bed, realizing that I have to go along with their unsavory scheme or risk much greater humiliation. Everyone is leering at me with smiles on their faces as I walk with them out of the room. It is a very naked feeling as I walk down the stairs in the middle of the pack, clad only in my underpants while everyone else is fully dressed, coats and all.

The walk from the front door to the car is dreadful, as the cold air sends shivers up and down my near-naked body. I’m directed to the back seat of Tammy’s parents’ old station wagon, where I’m sitting in between Bruce and one of the other guys. Tammy is driving and Donna is in the passenger seat. As we pull out I can’t believe I’m on the road in this state of undress.

It is a fifteen-minute drive to the store, but it seems much longer. Donna frequently turns around to look at me, and smiles widely each time.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take off your undies, Blondie?” she teases during one of her many glimpses back at me. “I’d really love to see you sitting there naked.…totally nude, all embarrassed and squirming around."

She is grinning at me while I blush profusely. I see Tammy catching quick looks at me in her rearview mirror. It is obvious that both girls are fully enjoying my humiliation. Bruce teases me mercilessly, and twice he runs his hand up and down my bare, hairless thigh. I want to just die on the spot.


The Teenyboppers

When we reach our destination, Tammy finds a parking spot right in front of the store. She rolls down all the electric windows before taking the keys out of the ignition and putting them in her purse. I have goose bumps all over my body from the chilly air.

“We don’t want you to get too hot,” she says to me with a smile while they all pile out of the car.

“If you do, you can always just take your underpants off,” Donna teases as she exits the car. Everyone laughs heartily.

“Sit up straight, Blondie,” cautions Bruce. “And don’t even think about ducking down behind the seat. I’ll be able to see you from the store, and if I don’t see your head right where it is then I’m coming back out here and bringing you back in with me.”

The doors to the car slam shut. I hear them laughing and joking as they walk away. A few of them turn back and look at me as they enter the store.

I am absolutely miserable. Here I am in a cold car stripped to my underpants, and am really dreading whatever might be in store for me when my “friends” return.

Then, to my horror, a car pulls up in the parking spot next to me. The driver, an attractive woman in her mid to late twenties, lightly hits her door against the station wagon as she gets out. It is all I can do to keep from ducking down, but Bruce has already checked on me from the store window at least twice. I am breathing heavily. Though I’m almost sure she will spot me, miraculously she doesn’t. When she closes her door and walks toward the store, I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

Despite the cold, I feel the perspiration under my arms, and beads of sweat have formed at the top of my forehead.

I barely have a chance to recover from the scare when there is cause for even greater concern. Three teenyboppers, probably twelve, maybe thirteen years old, emerge from the store. They are walking slowly, talking and giggling among themselves, and they’re headed in my direction! I tense up, and feel like I’m ready to break out into a cold sweat. There is an open parking space on my immediate left, and it appears they will be using that space as a passageway. I seriously consider ducking to the floor of the car. I look to the store window and see Bruce’s smiling face surveying the scene.

The girls are now approaching the front of the car. I don’t know how they can miss me, but I’m hoping beyond hope that they do.

“Oh, God, please,” I whisper out loud.

They are walking next to the car now, engaged in conversation one would expect from young teens.

“I think Johnny’s a hunk,” I hear one of them say.

They are strolling next to my window. Terrified, I sit as still as a statue, holding my breath so as not to make a sound or move a muscle.

“Yeah,” answers one of her companions. “He’s got the cutest ass, doesn’t he?”

They all are giggling. Amazingly, they have passed my window. I’m just about to let out another huge sigh of relief when I hear the fateful words.

“Wait a minute.…Melody! Heather! You’re not going to believe what I just saw!”

I’m crushed. I let out my breath and brace myself for a fate that is now almost certain. Sure enough, within seconds the girl is peering in my window. We make eye contact. She is agape, and at first is unsure how to react. When she takes in my red-faced, submissive expression she breaks into a wide grin.

“What? What is it, Wendy?” one of the other girls calls out.

She motions excitedly for her friends to join her. Within moments there are three wide-eyed, grinning girls staring at me through the open window.

“Oh, my God!” screams one in amusement. When she recovers from her surprise, she asks, simply, “Why are you sitting here in your underpants?”

“Please.…just go away!” I plead.

“Oh, I’ll bet his mommy is punishing him,” speculates Wendy. They all giggle. “Is that right, is your mommy disciplining you for being a bad little boy? Is she going to take you over her knee, pull down your underpants and give you a spanking on your bare bottom when you get home?”

“No.…please, just leave me alone.”

“I think his mommy should have made him sit here completely naked,” declares Wendy.

"Maybe we should make him sit here completely naked," counters one of the other girls, subsequently introduced as Heather.

They are all laughing now. I am close to tears, and my anxiety level is figuratively through the roof. My knees are clenched together and my hands are tucked between my thighs, covering the small protrusion in my underpants. I look up and Bruce is still taking in the scene from the store window. He is laughing hysterically.

One of the girls runs around to the other side of the car. I am now being gawked at from both sides. I wish I could crawl through a hole in the floor of the car and never resurface.

“My name’s Heather,” says the girl who is solo at the window. “What’s yours?”

She inserts her hand through the window in an offer for a handshake. I had no interest in moving my hand from my crotch, or shaking her hand.

“Please….I don’t want to talk. Please, just leave me alone.”

Heather has certainly ascertained that I am in a compromised position. I am about to discover that the little devil has a mean streak.

“We’re not going anywhere, naughty little boy, until you do what we want. Now what’s your name?”

“Blondie,” I reply uneasily without looking up. This brings giggles from all.

“Hi, Blondie,” laughs Heather. “Nice to meet you.”

She sticks her hand through the window again. I shake it meekly. She points to her friends.

“This is Wendy, and that’s Melody.” I’m forced to shake hands with them also.

“Please,” I try again. “I’m begging….please just go away.”

“Hmm, I’ll tell you what,” answers Heather. “We’ll go away and leave you alone. But first you have to do something for us.”

I don’t answer. I know whatever she has in mind cannot bode well for me. Then, to my horror, she opens the car door and hops in, planting herself right next to me. The other girls follow her lead, and Melody gets in on my other side while Wendy opens the front door and slides into the front seat. She is on her knees facing me in the middle of the bench seat. She is grinning broadly as she looks me up and down.

“We just want to see what you’re sportin’ under there,” says Heather while reaching for my underpants. I grab her wrist to fend her off. Giggling, she says, “All you have to do is pull your underpants down, let us check you out, then we’ll leave you alone.”

The interest level among the girls has taken a sudden, dramatic turn upward. I sit there helplessly, blushing crimson.

“No.…please don’t make…”

I’m interrupted by Wendy. “Make him do it, Heather, make him do it!” she urges excitedly.

“See those girls over there, Blondie?” says Heather while pointing to a group of five or six teenage girls standing in front of the nearby drug store. “If you don’t pull down your underpants for us right now and show us your goodies I’m calling them over here.”

I sit frozen, petrified. Wendy reaches back and honks the horn. The girls in front of the drug store look our way.

"Stop! Okay! I'll do it!"

I really have no choice. The thought of lowering my underpants for these fiends is horrifying, but in no way do I want any more witnesses to my already humiliating condition. I fight back the tears as I prepare myself for the dirty deed. I place my hands on the waistband of my underpants and take a deep breath. The tension is palpable as the girls look on in gleeful anticipation.

"He's really gonna do it!" shrieks Wendy, who I'm sure is incredulous at the prospect.

I clench my eyes shut, lift up my hips and quickly yank my underpants down to my upper thighs. Just as quickly I yank them back up.

“No, no, no, not good enough!” squeals the giggling Heather. “Pull them down below your knees and keep them there so we can have a good look.”

Again I sit there motionless, temporarily unable to do their bidding.

“Now, bad little boy, or I’m calling them over.”

Wendy makes a motion toward the horn. I know what I have to do. Again I reach for my underpants, and this time I lower them to the tops of my knees. Heather promptly pushes them down to my calves. My hands immediately cover my modesty.

“Move your hands!” shrieks Heather excitedly as she grasps my right arm with both hands. Simultaneously Melody seizes my other arm and they are pried apart. My knees are clenched together tightly.

"Spread your legs!" commands Heather. "We want a good look!"

When I hesitate, Wendy taps the horn again. I pull my knees apart. Three sets of eyes are focused between my legs as I am momentarily exposed. Melody snaps a picture with her cell phone. Overwhelmed with mortification I quickly break free from their grasp and cover myself with my hands.

“Blondie, you have visitors!” I hear Tammy hollering.

I look up and see the whole group coming toward the car, with Tammy leading the charge. The three giggling young girls quickly evacuate the car and scamper away, squealing with delight.

“Did you see it? Did you see how tiny it was?” one of them shouts.

“I saw it, and there was no hair!” cries another.

"And I got a picture!" squealed the third.

The sounds of their gleeful laughter resonate in my ears as they disappear from sight. I hurriedly reach down and pull up my underpants, feeling utterly violated by what has just transpired. And knowing that there is a picture out there for an undetermined number of people's amusement only adds to my despair.

“Blondie, you little pervert!” taunts Tammy. “You guys missed it,” she tells the rest, “But I think our little friend here was playing ‘show and tell’ while we were gone. Did they get a good look, Blondie?”

I stare downward without answering, while everyone gets in the car and we start pulling out of the lot.

“What was he doing?” asks Donna eagerly.

“The little perv had his tighty-whities pulled down!” exclaims Tammy. “He was covering up for dear life, but still….”

As we pull out of the parking lot Donna gets on her knees in the front seat and faces me with a mischievous grin.

“So Blondie,” she says. “How ‘bout putting on a little show for us?”

My eyes widen as a brace myself for the inevitable.
Last edited by Blondie on Thu Sep 19, 2024 6:57 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Stripped By Friends, Chapter 3

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Chapter 3: Naked in the Car

Forced to Strip

“So Blondie,” says Donna. “How ‘bout putting on a little show for us?”

I shake my head briskly from side to side.

“Oh, come on, Blondie, won’t you pull down your little undies for us like you did for your new girlfriends?”

She reaches over her seat and strokes my thigh. The level of interest among everyone around me has increased considerably. I push her hand away. I am becoming quite nervous at the direction this is heading.

“Tell him, Bruce,” persists Donna. “Tell him to pull his tighy-whities down for us.”

Bruce flicks the bottom my underpants with his index finger. His words fill me with terror.

“Take ‘em down, Blondie,” is his simple command.

“Please, you guys, don’t do…”

“Pull over, Tammy,” he interrupts.

Tammy pulls over to the curb in front of a coffee shop. I notice several people sitting idly in their window seats, and a few people were waiting outside. Bruce opens his door and tugs on my arm.

“Come on, Blondie, let’s go for a walk,” he says.

“No! Okay! Okay, I’ll do it!” I scream.

Bruce releases his grip on my arm and closes the door. He nods to Tammy, who pulls back onto the road.

My heart is beating a mile a minute. Everyone is silent. I look up, and Donna is leering and grinning at me in eager anticipation. Tammy adjusts her rearview mirror so she can watch my every move. I sit there in trepidation, delaying the inevitable. Donna, ready to exercise her control, breaks the silence.

“Now, Blondie! Do it! Take those undies down. NOW!”

I lift my hips and lower my underpants to the tops of my thighs. In the same motion I cover my crotch with my hands before anyone can see my privates. I feel myself trembling.

“More, Blondie!” commands the highly energized Donna.

I use one hand to push them to mid-thigh. I am breathing rapidly and my heartbeat rate is off the charts. The energy level surrounding me is palpable.

“Keep going, Blondie! I want you naked!”

Donna is nearly out of breath in her excitement. Reluctantly I advance them to my knees. Donna is relentless.

“All the way down! Down to your ankles!” she says quickly, her words running together. I sit motionless.

“No, please…” I am on the verge of tears.

“NOW!”

I reach over and slide them down to my ankles, being ever so careful to keep myself covered with my free hand.

“Good boy, Blondie. Now strip ‘em off!”

I shouldn’t be surprised to hear the words, but they make me flinch in my seat.

“Please…I can’t…please don’t make…”

My desperate entreaty is interrupted by a stern warning from Donna.

“Strip off your undies, now, or I'll have Bruce do it and throw you outside. I want you completely naked!” I hesitate. “That does it; pull over, Tammy, he’s going out there.”

“Okay! Oh, God,” I moan as I reach all the way down and pull off my underpants, one leg at a time.

It is just an awful, defenseless feeling to slip them off my feet, a feeling of.....well, nakedness, pure nakedness, and the sense that there will be no turning back from this point forward. The exuberant Donna immediately reaches down and snatches my underpants from my grasp.

Indeed, I am sitting in a moving car, completely naked.


Underpants Gone With the Wind

I watch desolately as Donna gleefully waves them back and forth in the air.

“Blondie’s naked, Blondie’s naked,” she sings merrily.

Everyone is applauding and laughing. Donna, her face flushed with excitement, is staring me up and down with a wicked smile on her face. She rolls down her window, and while securing my underpants with the crook of her index finger she stretches her arm out the window. For the next few minutes we drive on, watching my underpants flap in the wind, much to the joviality of my tormentors. Then she turns to look at me.

“Say ‘Bye-bye, my precious undies,’ ” she orders. I remain glumly silent. “Say it, Smoothie. ‘Bye-bye, my precious undies.’ ”

“Bye-bye, my precious undies,” I submit, my voice cracking.

"Say, 'I'm really going to miss you, my dear, sweet underpants,'" she says to the accompaniment of giddy laughter.

"I'm really going to miss you, my dear, sweet underpants," I say, sounding as if I’m about to cry.

The laughter is boisterous as Donna chimes in again.

"Bye-bye, Blondie's underpants! Wheeee!" she squeals as she lets go of the material.

It is a totally helpless feeling as I follow the flight of my underpants as they sail past my window, never to be seen again, other than by curious passersby. There is raucous cheering and laughter throughout the car. Tammy stops at a stop sign and turns back to check me out.

“Oh my goodness, Blondie,” she teases. “Look at you! You’re naked!” She pauses and looks me up and down with a devilish grin. “My, my, look how red your face is! And why are you covering up your goodies? You’re quite the bashful one, little boy, yes you are.” As she says the last three words she reaches back and playfully squeezes my burning cheeks between her thumb and index finger. I flush yet brighter.

The laughter continues. To my horror and disgust I notice with my peripheral vision that Bruce uses his hand to adjust his erection. As the car continues on the journey home, I’m completely mortified and again I consider that if I could, I would choose to die on the spot.

I spend the rest of the trip hunched over in my seat, covering my naked crotch. Bruce runs the tips of his fingers up and down my back a couple of times, actually touching the top of the crack in my ass, much to my revulsion. Donna has turned back around in her seat, but she steals frequent glances back at me. I hear her and Tammy laughing and giggling like little schoolgirls. Everyone is having a marvelous time over my humiliation.

The car pulls back into the driveway. There is lots of chattering and amusement as everyone gets out. I sit there, not being able to muster up the courage to venture outside in my naked state.

“Let’s go, Blondie, Donna and I need your help serving breakfast,” directs the grinning Tammy.

Bruce reaches in and pulls on my arm. I reluctantly slide out of the car and follow the group into the house. Everyone is looking back at me as I walk hunched over, both hands over my crotch.

“See, I told you we’d make Blondie walk around nude,” says Bruce.

He is obviously enjoying himself immensely, and I can’t help but notice the hard-on tenting up his sweat pants, a condition which he appears completely unabashed by. I shudder. What an unbelievable feeling it is to be walking naked outside in this forced state of submission.

I am hoping beyond hope for this terrible ordeal to end, but intuition tells me that my humiliation is only beginning.
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Re: Stripped By Friends

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Blondie is literally out of the frying pan and into the fire, serving breakfast to a bunch of bullying teens, while wearing no clothes.
Good thing the boy has no pubes. Imagine what would happen if one of the diners found a curly hair on their plate.
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Stripped By Friends, Chapter 4

Post by Blondie »

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Chapter 4: Naked Servant

Exposure

After being escorted into the house I am guided into the kitchen. I again shiver as my feet hit the cold linoleum floor. I’m still covering my crotch, and to this point nobody has really seen how small and hairless I am down there.

But then Bruce tells me to go stand in front of the sink. There is a small stepstool there and I’m told to stand on it. The group stands in a semi-circle around me and Bruce tells me to raise my hands as high in the air as I can. I cower on the stool, still holding my privates.

“Please, I can't do this!” I plead.

But my pleas go unanswered. Tammy holds up her cell phone and takes a picture of me. Everyone huddles around the phone and looks at the picture with amusement. Bruce holds the phone up to me.

“Would you like me to send this to your sister and some of her friends?” he asks.

I need no further prodding. Resigned to my awful fate I slowly raise my arms until they’re fully extended. Needless to say, it is a staggering humiliation. For the first time in memory someone is seeing me exposed completely naked, and it is under utterly humiliating circumstances. Plus, I think in my embarrassment that my penis has shrunken to an even smaller size than usual, and I can feel my scrotum tightly wrapped around my balls.

The girls laugh so hard they lean into each other with one hand over their mouths and one pointing between my legs. The guys are wide-eyed and in a state of hilarity.

“He looks like he’s nine years old!” someone exclaims.

My face feels like it is on fire. Tammy snaps another picture. I remain in this position for a few more seconds until I can take no more and again cover myself with my hands, prompting Bruce to grab me by the wrist and pull me from the stool.

“Okay, Blondie, here’s the deal,” Bruce admonishes. “Every time you try to cover up, one of these pictures goes out. I'll start with your sister and the next time it will be somebody else."

The grinning Tammy holds up the phone so I can see her latest photo. I cringe at the picture of my naked, prepubescent body. It hits me that there is no turning back now, and that I’m completely at their mercy. In a state of total despair, I drop my hands to my sides. The feeling of nakedness and vulnerability is excruciating.

Tammy and Donna start preparing breakfast and the guys take a seat in the dining room. I’m standing naked in the middle of the kitchen. “Self-conscious” can’t begin to describe how I feel, as I stand there not knowing what to do, fighting to keep my hands at my sides. The girls move about the kitchen, looking at me and smiling every chance they get. Their conversation as they go about their business exacerbates my humiliation.

“Can you believe we’ve got a naked little boy in your kitchen?” asks Donna.

“I know,” answers Tammy. “Actually he’s a teenager, but he sure looks like a little boy.” She looks me up and down, grins and adds, “Maybe more like a little girl.”

“I know,” laughs Donna. “He has a pretty face and he's blushing like a little girl." She looks down and stares at my crotch. "And his dick is so tiny it looks like he has a hairless little clitty between his legs.”

Both girls are now in a giggling fit while I stand there, my face so hot it is pulsating from shame.


Forced to Serve

“Well don’t just stand there, Blondie,” says Tammy. “Make yourself useful and go set the table.”

She grins fiendishly at me as she opens the silverware drawer. I see Bruce and a couple of the guys peeking at me through the door from their seats in the dining room. I wince and pull out enough silverware for nine place settings. Donna pats my naked ass before I make the torturous walk to the dining room.

My anguish intensifies as I lay out the silverware in front of each seat. I’m sure most of the guys can’t believe what is transpiring. I feel everyone's stares, especially Bruce’s. His setting is the last, and as I turn to walk away from him towards the kitchen I feel his fingers pinch my ass cheek, causing me to hop forward. I cringe as everyone at the table bursts out laughing.

Tammy instructs me to continue setting the table, showing me where the napkins and glasses are. It doesn’t get any easier for me as I have to make several trips back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room. All the while I feel all eyes on me from the occupants of both rooms. It is especially tormenting when I have to bend over to lay the glasses down, and I picture in my mind Bruce’s probable hard-on, which sends a shiver down my spine.

When I’m done setting the table Donna hands me a can of concentrated orange juice and instructs me to make it up. I stand at the counter naked, stirring up orange juice with a girl on either side of me, both visibly amused at my condition. Tammy drops a spoon on the floor right at my feet, and both girls bend down to pick it up. They purposely linger while they’re down there, their eyes inches from my crotch. They blatantly stare for a few seconds, and then Donna tickles my balls, causing me to yelp in a high-pitched voice. Both girls are giggling. They stand up and Donna playfully pinches the right side of my burning face.

“Don’t feel bad, little boy,” she teases. “You have a cute little pee-pee, and it's almost as big as my eight-year-old brother's.”

They break out into hysterical laughter. I feel emasculated as I stand there and soak up the biting ridicule. It seems my humiliation will have no bounds.

"I have to tell, you, Tammy," says Donna. "This whole thing is making me horny." She pauses while Tammy tilts her head and looks at her curiously. "No, not like that. Not horny for Blondie. Just....just having a naked boy at our disposal—naked against his will—and we can make him do anything we want....I don't know, I find it....sexually arousing, to be honest with you."

"I know exactly what you mean," says Tammy. "And we're just getting started. We're going to have so much fun with him today." They both stare at me with grins on their faces, while I wallow in my humiliation.

“Well what are you waiting for, Smoothie," Donna finally says. "The boys are waiting for their orange juice."

I’m blushing brightly as I enter the dining room and proceed from seat to seat, pouring from the pitcher into each glass. While I pour into Bruce’s glass, to my horror I feel his fingers stroking my perineum. Startled, I squeal out loud and spill some juice on the table. Hearty laughter rings in my ears as I'm told to go get a towel to clean up the mess. The boys are thoroughly entertained as my degradation continues.

After I lay out platters of eggs, pancakes and mini sausages on the table I’m instructed to take my place at the head of the table. Someone has put a barstool there that is higher than the table, so I will be on display during the meal.

I take my seat to the sounds of chuckling and giggling. Bruce instructs me to place my feet on the outside footrests of the stool, thus increasing my exposure. Everyone is in a positively giddy mood as I sit forlornly and start nibbling at my food without looking up from my plate.


Introducing Rhonda and Gail

I stiffen in my seat at the sound of the doorbell. Everyone looks at the door, then at me, wondering what will transpire. Tammy gets up and peeks through the curtain of a side window to see who it is. I’m all set to bail upstairs when Tammy turns back with a sly grin on her face.

“Blondie, would you get the door, please?” she casually requests.

I can’t move, I’m so horrified. The doorbell rings again and Tammy pulls me by the arm off the barstool.

“Please!” I plead with Tammy. “I can’t open the door like this!”

She gives me a stern look and spanks my ass with one hard slap that rings across the room, eliciting guffaws from all. She points at the door.

“You go answer that door right this minute!” she orders. “And don’t try to hide behind the door. Just open it wide and greet our guests.”

I’m shaking and my ass is stinging as I walk towards the door. I know a red mark is materializing at the point of the slap, and I can sense that everyone is watching it change color. I hear the laughter and excitement behind me as Tammy whispers to the others, probably informing them who is at the door.

I have my hand on the doorknob for a few seconds, close my eyes, build up as much nerve as I can and swing the door open. I know better than to cover up, so I’m standing there in the doorway and looking at the faces of two attractive sixteen-year-old girls. They’re friends of Tammy and Donna who have shown up unexpectedly. I’m completely mortified as at first they have a look of total shock. Then they look me up and down as I stand there like a naked boy statue. My face is crimson from shame. They both break into convulsive laughter, alternately looking at my anguished, bright red face and my underdeveloped, hairless genitals.

When one of them finally catches her breath she says, “My, oh my, where are your clothes, little boy?” She is wide-eyed, both in disbelief and amusement.

Tammy appears in the doorway and says, “Well come on, Blondie, invite our guests in from the cold,” she instructs.

“Won’t you come in?” I respond subserviently, and this gets another hearty laugh.

“Blondie, I’d like you to meet Rhonda and Gail. Rhonda and Gail, this is Blondie. He's fourteen, believe it or not."

Both of them drop their jaws and gaze at my hairless penis.

"He had no idea you’d be coming by today, so excuse him if he seems a little underdressed.”

Tammy laughs exuberantly at her own attempt at humor. The two new arrivals are grinning from ear to ear as they stick their hands out and I shake them.

“Pleased to meet you, Blondie,” says Gail as she looks in my eyes and then down at my crotch. “How’s every little thing with you?”

I don’t answer this cutting remark as Rhonda shakes my hand. She is laughing so hard, she is speechless.

“I’m so glad you could make it by,” says Tammy as she leads us into the dining room. “You’re just in time for breakfast. There’s plenty of food. Would you like to join us?”

“Well, we just had breakfast, but if you don’t mind we’d love to sit down with you and get to know your naked friend,” answers Gail, her eyes still glued to my nude form.

Gail and Rhonda take their seats at the table and exchange greetings with the rest of the group. The level of excitement has increased, and the newcomers are incredulous at what they’re witnessing.

Wasting no time, Tammy puts me into action.

“Blondie, would you be a good boy and get two glasses and pour our new guests some orange juice?” requests Tammy.

I retreat to the kitchen, feeling the stares from everyone. I return with two glasses and dutifully fill them from the pitcher of orange juice.

“Thank you, Blondie,” says Gail. “You’re such a little sweetie.” She playfully pats my bare ass as I walk away. As impossible as it might seem, I feel my face turn yet redder.

I take my seat at the barstool, literally shivering from the overwhelming humiliation, while the two new arrivals leer at me with grins on their faces. They can’t believe the situation they happened upon, and they seem quite delighted that they have.

Everyone is talking and joking during breakfast. Everyone except me, that is. I don’t say a word, but Donna is bent on including me in the conversation.

“So, Blondie, I think you should tell our new visitors about your…..about the interesting day you’ve had. I’m sure they’re dying to hear the details on how you got to be our nude little servant.”

Everyone seems to sit up in their seat. They are looking at me expectantly. I decline to answer and continue to poke desolately at my scrambled eggs.
“Hey, I’m talking to you, young man!” Donna persists.

I sit there in silence, unwilling, or, more accurately, unable to do her bidding.

I would soon be reprimanded for my lack of cooperation in a most embarrassing manner.
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Stripped By Friends, Chapter 5

Post by Blondie »

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Chapter 5: A Nude Spanking

A Most Embarrassing Reprimand

“All right, that does it!” reprimands Donna. “I’ve had quite enough of your insolence. You get your little ass over here right now!” She stands up, pulls her chair away from the table and sits back down, facing me. I fidget in my seat, horrified at the likely degradation that lies in store for me. “Now!” Donna screams while pointing to her lap with her index finger.

I slide off my barstool and with trepidation I approach the fiendish Donna. When I reach her chair she grabs me by the bicep and yanks me over her lap. I hold on to the legs of her chair while my feet are dangling in midair. She wastes no time, and immediately I feel the stings from her barehanded spanking. It is a quick, authoritative and decisive volley, alternating from cheek to cheek in perfect rhythm. The sound of each smack echoes throughout the dining room.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

Towards the end of the punishment the pain is registering and I am kicking my legs furiously.

“Now stand up, young man!” Donna commands.

She pushes me off her lap and I scramble to my feet. The stinging sensation has really set in and my backside is throbbing now. I clench my ass cheeks with both hands and jump up and down from the pain.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“Oh, God, I’ve always wanted to do that to a boy,” proclaims Donna with a look on her face of sheer satisfaction.

Her face is flush from exertion, but probably even more so from stimulation. Boisterous laughter fills the room. Tears are streaking down my face, more from the humiliation of a bare-bottomed, well-witnessed, over-the-knee spanking at the hands of a sixteen-year-old girl than from the pain.

“Now get your little ass back in your chair,” instructs Donna. “And you’d better be ready to converse with us.”

I gingerly retake my place at the head of the table. The barstool feels cold against my newly warmed backside. I wipe the tears from my eyes with the fists of both hands. Everyone at the table is looking at me and grinning widely. My face is extremely hot.


Forced to Recount the Sordid Events

“Now then,” resumes Donna. “Let’s tell Gail and Rhonda all about your day, Smoothie. Start from the time you woke up.”

I reluctantly reply without looking up. “I woke up, we went to the store, and now we’re eating breakfast.”

“I’m warning you, Blondie,” reprimands Donna. “If I have to take you over my knee and spank you again I’ll use a hairbrush and I can promise that you won’t be sitting down for a week. Now we’d like to hear all the details, in your words, and don’t leave anything out. What were you wearing when you left for the store?”

“My underpants, " I said, eliciting giggling all around.

“Your underpants! Weren’t you cold?”

“Yes. Please, just......don't make me do this.”

“What did your little undies look like?”

“They were white. Briefs. Please…”

“You mean ‘tighty-whities,’ don’t you?”

“Yes.” I am staring down at my plate sullenly.

“So then what happened?”

I hesitate. I know what she wants to hear, and I know she won’t stop until she hears it. “On the way home I lost my underpants.” Everyone is very entertained, waiting on every word.

“You ‘lost’ your underpants!” says Donna, feigning shock. “How in the world did that happen?”

I fidget in my seat. Resignedly I answer. “Y-You made me take them off.”

“Yes I did, and it was so much fun to make you strip. So then what happened to your little underpanties?”

“You…you threw them out the window.”

“Well that wasn’t very nice of me, was it?” I shake my head glumly. My eyes have slightly moistened with tears. “So then what were you wearing?”

“N-Nothing.”

“You mean you were naked?” I nod my head without answering vocally. I am very close to outright bawling. “Let me hear you say it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” she persists.

“Yes.…yes, I was naked.” Rhonda giggles, and Donna addresses her.

“Don’t you just love that word, Rhonda? Especially when he's sitting there naked against his will, and he's totally humiliated, and then you make him say it.” Without waiting for an answer from Rhonda, Donna turns her attention back to me. "Tell us again what you were after I made your strip off your underpants, Blondie."

It is becoming unbearable for me. "I.....was naked," I say softly.

The demonic Donna pushes harder. "Louder, please."

"I was NAKED!" I submit.

Donna grins. “How did that feel? Weren’t you embarrassed?”

“Yes,” I respond cheerlessly.

“Tell us what it felt like to be stripped completely naked in the back seat of a car, watching your underpants flapping in the wind.”

“I.…I don’t know.…I felt very....naked.” The laughter gets louder.

“And what are you wearing now?”

“Noth—I’m still naked.”

“How old are you, Blondie?”

“Fourteen.”

“Fourteen! You’re fourteen years old and you still have a hairless little pee-pee?” Donna is staring at my crotch now, as is everyone else. I don’t answer, and Donna perseveres. “I asked you a question, Smoothie.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

I know what I have to say. “I’m fourteen years old and I still have a hairless little pee-pee.”

The laughter is almost deafening.

“Why, yes! Yes you do! You have an itty bitty hairless little pee-pee!”

The hilarity persists. Finally Donna is done with her torment and I go back to nibbling my food. My face feels hotter than it has ever felt before.

When everyone is done I am ordered to clear the table for them while they sit and joke around.

“Look, his little ass is still red from your spanking, Donna,” I hear Gail proclaim exuberantly on one of my trips back to the kitchen. The stinging seems to resurface as I sense all eyes on Donna’s earlier target.

After the table is cleared I am forced to help Tammy and Donna clean the kitchen. During that time they both steal numerous glances at my naked state, producing a wide smile with every glance. Each time my face flushes like a flashing Christmas tree light.

I hope beyond hope that they will tire of using me and my nudity as their form of entertainment. But I’m afraid that my ordeal is just beginning.
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Stripped By Friends, Chapter 6

Post by Blondie »

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Chapter 6: The Sordid Game

Charades

After the dishes are done we all retire to the living room. They are all sitting around talking and joking, and the electricity in the air is palpable. Everyone is in a festive mood, at the expense of my extreme humiliation. The TV is on, and a couple of times I’m asked to get up and adjust the volume or change the channel. At no point does my embarrassment diminish—in fact, it is about to escalate.

Not surprisingly, it is Donna who comes up with an idea to enhance my humiliation.

“Hey, I’ve got a great game we can play,” she exuberantly declares.

I cringe, remembering how, when she stripped off my pajama bottoms she wanted to strip me naked and make me put on a “nudie show.” I fear that is about to take place.

“Let's play Charades, only with a penalty phase. Here’s how it works,” she says. “We take turns getting up in front of everybody. The person on your right writes on a piece of paper something that you have to imitate. For example, if you have to imitate a violin player you would go like this.” Donna then imitates a violin player by holding an imaginary violin under her chin and playing it with an imaginary bow. “You have five minutes to successfully get any of us to guess correctly. If no one guesses then you have to pay a penalty. Let’s see, we won’t make it too harsh….tell you what, if anyone loses they have to run around the block.”

At this point Donna looks at me and smiles. “Blondie, you’d better be good at this game. It’s a little too chilly for you to be running around naked out there.” She pauses momentarily while everyone giggles. She purposely looks down at my penis. “If you do, that little nub between your legs might just disappear completely.”

There is raucous laughter now as my face pulsates with shame. I shudder at the thought of playing the game, and even worse, losing and having to run around the block naked. Everyone is in a festive mood as I’m directed to a seat on Donna's right.

The game starts with Tammy. She is a volleyball player, and it takes only a few seconds for someone to guess correctly. Then she writes on a piece of paper and hands it to Donna. She acts out a juggler. Of course this is so easy she’s sitting down within five seconds. Then she writes on a piece of paper and hands it to me. It says “a basketball player.”

I make my obligatory walk to the center of the room, obviously feeling extremely self-conscious as my audience watches my every move with amusement. As much as I dread acting this out, I figure it will be quick and easy to demonstrate. I fake a dribble and a shot. I feel my little penis bobbing up and down, much to everyone's amusement, I'm sure.

“You’re a doctor,” someone facetiously guesses.

“No, you’re a squirrel,” chimes in another.

It is quite obvious that they are going to draw out my part as long as they can. My face is turning redder by the minute. The timer is down to two minutes as I go up for a jump shot. I feel my genitals bouncing around and hear the constant laughter. Finally somebody guesses correctly and I’m allowed to sit down.


Crawling on All Fours

The game continues as we go around the room. Everyone gets very easy mimes and no one is up for more than thirty seconds. Clearly they’re all gearing towards my next turn. Inevitably it comes very soon and Donna grins as she scribbles something and hands me the paper. It says "Donna’s little puppy dog."

I groan and get down on all fours in the middle of the room. My humiliation increases as I crawl back and forth. I can imagine how laughable I look and feel very naked with my ass, probably still pink, sticking out for all to see, not to mention my little balls hanging down. I crawl up to Donna and do my best to pant like a dog. Of course, no one comes close to guessing what I am.

"You're a chicken!" someone calls out.

"No, you're a hyena!" shouts another, as everyone laughs in amusement.

There are less than two minutes left when Donna says, “Your time’s running out, Blondie; you’d better get a little more demonstrative.”

“Arf! Arf!” I bark at Donna desperately.

Still no one guesses. I get up on my knees and start licking Donna’s hand. She laughs and strokes my crimson cheek with the back of her fingers, but still no one ventures the correct guess.

There is less than a minute left. Donna then slips off her sandal and throws it all the way across the room. It is obvious what I have to do. I crawl as fast as I can to fetch it, and then I lean down and pick it up with my mouth. As I’m bending over I feel the crack in my ass open up for all to see. Everyone is laughing hysterically now. I turn around and on the way back I crawl even faster, much to the entertainment of the onlookers. My face is burning as I clench Donna's smelly sandal tightly between my teeth. I crawl over to Donna and drop the sandal in her lap. She pats my head.

“You’re my good little puppy dog, yes you are,” she says with delight.

The game goes around again—very quickly, I might add—and before I even recover from the dog experience Donna is writing on a piece of paper again. She hands it to me with a devilish smirk on her face. I open it up and it says, "Client for masseuse. Client should remain standing with hands interlocked behind head."

I wince as Donna situates me so I'm facing the group. She momentarily puts her hands behind her head and points to me. I take a deep breath and follow her lead. I feel quite vulnerable in this position.

"He's the Statue of David, only with a smaller dick!" someone shouts, generating boisterous laughter.

The grinning Donna moves behind me, exposing me to all. I feel her hands on my shoulders, giving me a massage. Then she takes her fingers and slowly strums them down my sides. I shiver from her touch. She presses her body against mine and soon I feel her fingers stroking my inner thighs. Her hands move upwards and brush against my balls before her fingers are softly caressing below my midsection in the surrounding area of my penis. To my consternation I feel myself becoming aroused. I mean, I can't help myself! I've never been touched like this by anyone but myself, and the fact that it is an attractive girl doing the dirty deed makes my reaction inevitable.

Oh, no! Please, don’t let this happen—not here, not now!

But Donna is relentless, and continues to toy with my sensitivities. Much to the merriment of the giggling spectators, my erection increases. When Donna expertly tickles the frenulum of my penis, it juts straight out and slightly upwards. Just like that I have a full-fledged hard-on, such as it is. Donna, satisfied with her accomplishment, backs off.

"I know, he's an eight-year-old with his first boner!" someone calls out.

The laughter is abounding, and my face feels like it is stuck in a furnace. Somehow I manage to keep my pose throughout the intense humiliation.
Evidently Donna wants to move on, so she ends this part of the charade.

"No, you silly people," said the laughing Donna. "I'm a professional masseuse and Blondie is my favorite client. As you can see, he likes me, too."


Lap Dancing

I am allowed to take my seat. The laughter takes a while to die down as I sit there with my face flushing ever so brightly. I’m hoping they have had enough of the sordid game, but evidently they want to go around one more time. Again it takes only a few short minutes to get around to my turn. At least during that time my erection has completely subsided.

Donna hands me another piece of paper and watches my horrified reaction as I read, “Bruce’s lap dancer.”

I can’t believe this is happening to me. I look at Bruce, who is sitting on an armless chair. Donna gets up and puts on some music. It can best be described as “grinding” music. I stand up and temporarily cover my face with my hands, wishing I could die on the spot. I try to think of a way out of the awful predicament, but there is none.

To shrieks of shock and amusement I walk over and straddle the surprised but delighted Bruce and lower my naked body onto his lap. I dutifully move my hips to the music, much to Bruce's pleasure. He is wearing loose black sweat pants—and it feels like he's not wearing any underwear—and to my revulsion I feel his hard cock as I grind back and forth.

Everyone is so blown away by the scene that nobody even ventures a guess. I’m forced to continue servicing my tormentor. He has placed my hands on his shoulders and his hands are on my hips, guiding me in a circular motion to the beat of the music. I can’t believe I’m performing this extremely distasteful act, and I’m sure everyone is incredulous at what they are witnessing.

I glance at Bruce’s face and see that his eyes are glazed and his mouth is open. His breathing is getting faster and heavier and he is squeezing my hips and moving them at an increasingly rapid pace, while simultaneously rotating his own hips in sync with mine. To my repugnance I feel his cock start to pulsate, and I wince in disgust as he groans. I feel dampness around my perineum, confirming my revolting realization that I have gotten him off. He continues guiding me and pulls me harder against his throbbing cock.

When it looks like he’s thoroughly satisfied someone yells out, “You’re a lap dancer!”

Completely debased, I take my seat. I presume this last experience has to be the “climax” to my dreadful ordeal. But as I am about to discover, the humiliation gods are not nearly done with me yet.
Last edited by Blondie on Mon Oct 07, 2024 4:35 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Stripped By Friends

Post by Qwerto1232 »

If I remember corectly, this story has eight chapters. Do you just repost them here. Or can we expect new chapters.
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Re: Stripped By Friends

Post by Blondie »

It is the original story (with minor modifications) posted here for the first time. There will be ten chapters in total, as I split a couple of them because they were rather lengthy.
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Re: Stripped By Friends

Post by TeenFan »

I could tell this story was written some time ago.
Youngsters today have no idea that people used to get off the sofa to go to the tv to change the channel.
Don't ask me what type of tv we had when I was a child...I'm not telling.

I wrote a chapter that has a boy sitting on a boy lap dance (well, similar to a lap dance) in my last written story of the Justin Maxwell topic.
Certainly a different type of action, and not one that is seen here often. Don't know of any other such scenes in a story in the ENM section.
Correct me, anyone, if I am wrong in that. I want to know if I missed something like that.
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Re: Stripped By Friends

Post by Robert Brooks »

TeenFan wrote: Mon Nov 27, 2023 9:51 am I wrote a chapter that has a boy sitting on a boy lap dance (well, similar to a lap dance) in my last written story of the Justin Maxwell topic.
Certainly a different type of action, and not one that is seen here often. Don't know of any other such scenes in a story in the ENM section.
I’m not aware of much boy on boy content here (as of course the title of this board suggests), but I would totally read that AND LOVE IT!!
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