Chapter 7: Brenda's Revenge
Payback
Unfortunately, I have yet another humiliation to recount. This one took place on the penultimate day of my sophomore year, courtesy of my new nemesis, Brenda—who, with the help of a few friends, made sure I paid dearly for my mistake.
As you may recall, Brenda is in my homeroom, and she was the one who left my underwear on my desk after my staggering humiliation in the auditorium. Since then, she had made it her mission to tease me about that mortifying ordeal at every opportunity. It had gotten to the point where all she had to do was slowly run her eyes up and down my body—her gaze practically peeling away my clothes—before flashing me a knowing grin. Without fail, my face would turn bright red, much to her delight.
After suffering a few of those embarrassing encounters with Brenda, I decided to exact some revenge. The payback was sweet while it lasted, but I’m sorry to say that ultimately, I paid the price—dearly—for this decision.
Three days before the end of the school year, I put my plan into action. You see, Brenda happens to have very small breasts, and I figured that must be a source of insecurity for her. So, in my infinite wisdom, I decided to exploit this probable source of embarrassment.
That morning, I arrived at school early, making sure I was the first one in the homeroom. Seizing the opportunity, I strode up to the chalkboard and, in large capital letters, wrote:
BRENDA HOLLISTER HAS TINY LITTLE TITTIES.
Smirking to myself, I dusted my hands off, admiring my handiwork. Oh, this was going to be good.
To avoid suspicion, I stepped out into the hallway and waited for Brenda to arrive. The plan was simple: casually walk in beside her, act completely innocent, and bask in her embarrassment.
“Hi, Blondie,” she greeted me with a smirk the moment she spotted me. As always, her eyes flickered down to my crotch—just long enough to make me squirm—before locking onto mine with a knowing grin. Satisfied with the inevitable rush of color to my cheeks, she let out a soft giggle, turned on her heel, and walked into the room.
I followed her in, anxiously anticipating the next few moments.
The classroom was already half full, with about twenty students scattered in their seats. A chorus of giggles rippled through the room as Brenda took her seat, though she didn’t immediately understand why. I kept my eyes fixed on her, watching as confusion crossed her face. Then, right on cue, her gaze drifted toward the blackboard.
It was a precious moment for me as I reveled in her reaction. Her eyes widened in shock. Then, just as I had hoped, a deep crimson blush crept up her cheeks.
Without hesitation, she shot out of her chair and stormed toward the board, erasing the incriminating message with quick, frantic strokes.
To make things even better, she was wearing a snug white sweater, and the small nubs of her chest were just barely visible. Judging by the way she immediately folded her arms over her chest, she knew exactly where everyone’s eyes were.
I leaned back in my chair, savoring the moment.
A few minutes later, I stole another glance at her. The blush on her face hadn’t faded. It wasn’t nearly the level of humiliation I had suffered in the auditorium, but for the first time, I felt something close to vindication.
A Reversal of Fortune
That would have been a great way to finish off the year, but to my utter regret, I made the mistake of getting greedy. I wanted to relive that experience, so on the next day, I again arrived early to school. I had just written the words “BRENDA HOLLISTER HAS” on the board when I was startled by a sharp voice behind me.
“You little shit!” Brenda exclaimed. “I had a hunch it might be you, but I didn’t think you had it in you. Well, you’re about to pay, Blondie. Big time."
Shaken, I watched her reach into her purse and pull out a roll of bright orange yarn. “Drop your pants,” she ordered.
“I…I can’t do that here. Somebody might come in,” I responded anxiously.
Brenda was undeterred. “I don’t think you want me to get Mitch and Reggie involved here, now Blondie, do you?”
Oh yes, the “stripped on Main Street” threat again. I swear, next time I might take my chances and call their bluff.
No, I know better.
I unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned and lowered my trousers slightly, exposing my underpants. Brenda smiled and took the tops of my jeans in each of her hands and swiftly hauled them down to my ankles.
I watched apprehensively as she took a pair of scissors and cut a length of about twenty feet from the yarn.
“Get those undies down too,” she directed.
I stood transfixed, unwilling (or, more accurately, “unable”) to do her bidding.
“Please, Brenda, don’t do this to me!” I pleaded.
“Ah, the hell with it,” she said. She simply used the scissors to cut my underpants off and let them fall to the floor, where I felt them graze my feet.
While I instinctively covered my crotch with my hands Brenda, smiling with enjoyment, picked up my severed underpants and walked back to my seat, where she laid them on the desk.
Once again, thanks to Brenda, there was the ludicrous sight of a pair of underpants on my desk.
I looked around nervously as Brenda came back to me, the length of yarn in her hand.
“Hands on your head,” she commanded.
Resignedly I raised my hands to my head, exposing myself to my tormentor.
“Well, well, little boy, I see you’re still bald as a cucumber,” she teased. “And look how tiny you are! Such a cute wittle boy,” she taunted while taking my penis between her thumb and index finger and tweaking it back and forth.
Startled, I flinched and retracted my hips involuntarily.
Brenda giggled at my reaction. “What’s the matter, little boy? Are you embarrassed about your hairless little wee-wee?”
Yes, it was oh, so true. I still was completely hairless down there, which was a condition that caused me considerable angst. And having my small, hairless penis on display at this girl’s whim caused me extreme embarrassment.
My embarrassment and apprehension increased as Brenda took the yarn and wrapped one end around my penis and balls, tying a snug knot at the base of my penis.
“Okay, you can get dressed now, my little hairless one,” she declared.
Red-faced, I hastily donned my jeans and buttoned them back up.
But they didn’t stay buttoned for long, as the devilish Brenda immediately started unbuttoning my fly. I instinctively pulled my hips back, but Brenda was undeterred. She slipped her fingers into the opening, feeling around for the yarn as I flinched at the intrusion. Finding her prize, she slowly threaded it through before buttoning my fly back up at an almost agonizing pace, her smirk never fading.
The whole time, she acted like she had complete control over me—like I was hers to toy with. I must say it was quite humiliating having her fumbling around so close to my penis like she owned it.
She then took the roll of yarn and cut another short length and used it to tie my hands behind my back. It was soon apparent to me what wicked mischief she had up her sleeve.
The Obedient Puppy
“Let’s go for a walk, Blondie,” she said as she pulled on the length of yarn dangling from my fly and walked toward the door.
“Oh God, no, Brenda, please!” I implored, my face already burning.
But she just laughed and started walking, leaving me with no choice but to follow. As we moved through the hallway, I could sense all eyes turning toward us. The giggles and whispers spread like wildfire, and soon enough, the noise level had risen as students pointed and laughed at the bizarre sight.
Brenda strolled confidently, leading me along like a prized showpiece. My face felt like it was on fire as I followed Brenda like an obedient puppy.
Courtyard Humiliation
She then led me out to the main courtyard, where I was greeted with a similar response. There Brenda caught up with three of her friends, Joanna, Marcia, and Cheryl, who were standing and chatting next to the Roosevelt statue when their mundane morning suddenly became quite stimulating. As you know, I’ve had at least one humiliating experience with each of these girls, so they were predictably gleeful as they appraised my condition.
“Brenda, Brenda, what have we here?” asked Joanna, with relish in her voice.
“Oh, I’m just teaching Blondie here a little lesson,” answered Brenda. “Can you believe this little shit was the one who wrote on the blackboard about my tits?”
Brenda’s three friends laughed as she jerked on the yarn, forcing me to awkwardly jump forward a couple of steps.
Marcia, giggling freely, took the yarn from Brenda’s hand and merrily started trotting around the courtyard. Powerless, I was forced to follow her.
There were at least two dozen other people in the area, and their laughter resonated throughout the courtyard as they enjoyed the comical sight.
Marcia stopped next to her friends and draped her end of the yarn over the outstretched arm of the Roosevelt statue. She then pulled on the end of the yarn, drawing me forward and upward, to a point where I was forced to stand on my tiptoes when I felt the upward tug on my genitals. Marcia held me in that position while the girls chatted among themselves.
The girls continued their laughter-filled conversation, chatting as if I weren’t even there, while I stood red-faced and distressed.
My distress level intensified when their topic of conversation turned back to me.
Teased and Tormented
“So, Brenda,” asked Marcia while fingering the yarn and looking at my crotch, “What exactly is this tied to? Is it tied around his balls or his little dick? From what I saw in the auditorium a few months ago you didn’t have much to work with.”
I blushed brighter while the four girls giggled.
“Actually,” answered Brenda, “I managed to involve both his balls and his little dick. Would you like to see for yourselves?”
Brenda moved in my direction. My eyes widened in shock at this latest turn of events.
“Oh yes, let’s see!” Of course, all three of them were in full agreement.
“No!” I yelped.
Brenda, smiling, pulled my tee shirt from my jeans. She lifted it all the way up my chest and pulled it off my head. With two hands she tugged it downwards behind my back and scrunched it up at the small of my back, just above my tied wrists. I shivered involuntarily at the exposure.
“Excellent, my little hairless one,” she smiled while rubbing the palm of her hand back and forth across my bare chest.
She lowered her hand and began unbuckling my belt. She talked to me as she went about her task.
“What do you say we pull your pants down so they all can see what a little boy you look like down there,” she teased mercilessly.
“No, Brenda! No! Please!” I begged frantically. I looked around the courtyard, and everyone was looking at the two of us in fascination.
She ignored me and addressed the girls while she slowly, deliberately went about her task of unbuttoning the four buttons.
“This will be pretty easy, because he’s not wearing any underpants,” she announced to the crowd while undoing the first button.
Gleeful shouts rang out. The grins broadened.
Brenda could sense that she had everyone’s attention, and she spoke a little louder. “You see, I took some scissors and snipped off his little tighty-whities when he refused to take them down for me like I asked him to,” she stated rather matter-of-factly.
The second button was undone. She was playing the crowd, much to my wretchedness.
“Can you believe his impertinence?”
The third button was undone. My breathing quickened.
“He's going to pay the price, though, because his little wee-wee is about to be put on display for all of us.”
Laughter and cheering reverberated throughout the courtyard.
She unbuttoned the final button. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing myself for the next humiliation.
Brenda held onto the top of my trousers, holding the fly closed. Of course, this would be a temporary situation.
She looked up at me, grinning sadistically. “Are you ready, big boy?” she teased.
“Please…Brenda, I’m begging you…don’t do it!” I pleaded anxiously.
“Oh, come on, sweetie, you don’t mean that. Look how much fun everybody is having. They can’t wait to see what you've got down there.”
She paused, looked me in the eyes and smiled.
“Boy, they’re in for a good laugh, aren’t they, Blondie boy?”
She slipped behind me, her arms circling my waist as she held my pants in place. Leaning in close, she brought her lips right to my ear, her breath warm against my skin.
“Prepare yourself, my little hairless one,” she taunted, tickling my ear in the process. “In a few moments, I’m not just going to give everyone a quick little peek. I’m going to pull your pants aaaaaall the way down. And if the mood strikes me, I might just take them completely off!”
“Oh, God!” I squealed.
My anxiety was mounting, and I swear I could hear my heart pounding on my sternum.
Brenda was relentless with her psychological torture. “Just think, your tiny little hairless bits are about to be exposed for all these people out here.”
She paused for effect.
“They’ll all be staring and laughing at you, and you’ll be squirming around, totally helpless to do a thing about it.”
“No! Brenda! No! Please!”
“Oh, yes, Blondie boy. This is going to be a moment you’ll remember for the rest of your life.” She paused. “And so will all these people out here. Every time any of them sees you, they’re going to think, ‘There’s the guy who was stripped and humiliated by a girl in the courtyard.’ ” Brenda giggled and continued. “And they’ll always have the picture in their head of your teensy, hairless weenie bobbing about while you wiggle around helplessly.”
I was frantic now, as it sunk in that she was absolutely right in that assessment.
She took notice of my horrified look. “Ah, you know it’s true, don’t you, Blondie? Can’t you just picture the look on everybody’s face in just a few seconds when I pull your pants down? For all intents and purposes, you’ll be naked. And ohhhh, so naked you will look, with no hair on your body. I mean, think about it. You’re out here in broad daylight, and your tiny, hairless, little-boy penis will be on display for all these girls that you’ll have to face for the rest of your days at Roosevelt High. Every time they see you, either in the hallway or maybe in the same class, they'll picture you naked. It'll almost be like you're reliving this all over again.
"When I take these down, it should be quite comical, because you’ll be squirming around in absolute embarrassment, and your little pee-pee will be jiggling around…oh, my, it will be quite the spectacle, don’t you think so?”
The Unveiling
Brenda pulled her mouth away from my ear, and I felt the inevitable closing in on me.
"Brenda, pl—"
“Here we go, folks,” she announced, her voice ringing with mischievous delight. “Is everybody ready?”
A loud, enthusiastic cheer erupted from the gathered students, their excitement palpable.
Brenda stepped back slightly. Panic surged through me, but all I could do was cry out in desperation.
“No! No!”
“Wheeeeee!” she yelled gleefully while sliding my pants all the way down to my ankles in one steady motion.
The roar of laughter in the courtyard was riotous.
I writhed and twisted my body frantically, but there was nowhere to hide.
“Look at that teeny, little thing!” laughed one of the girls. “It’s like a little clitty!” she exclaimed, drawing uproarious laughter from the crowd.
“And he has no hair!” squealed another.
“Oh, this is too much!”
Mortified to the max, I tried lifting each leg up one at a time in a frenzied attempt at covering up, but I soon abandoned that effort when I realized my frantic movements threatened to displace my pants altogether.
Just as Brenda had predicted, I could only stand there, squirming helplessly, forced to endure the laughter and ridicule of the thoroughly entertained crowd.
Paraded to Homeroom
Mercifully, the warning bell went off, and the crowd began to disperse.
Marcia let go of the yarn, and Brenda buttoned and buckled me up, making sure the yarn stuck out from my fly.
I was relieved that she didn’t make good on her threat to take my pants completely off. But, to my dismay, she chose to leave my upper body exposed.
“Alright, girls, time to take my little doggy back to homeroom,” Brenda laughed, giving the yarn a playful tug as she started leading me toward the building.
“Thanks for the show, Blondie dearest! Let’s do this again soon!” Marcia called out, her words dripping with amusement as her friends burst into laughter.
The giggling chorus followed me as Brenda paraded me back through the hallway, the same humiliating walk of shame as before—only this time, with my shirt missing, my embarrassment felt even worse.
We stepped into homeroom, where most of the students had already gathered. With Miss Farnsworth still absent, Brenda seized the opportunity to extend my humiliation, proudly parading me back and forth across the front of the room like a prize she was showing off. Laughter filled the air as my classmates soaked in the spectacle.
We reached my desk, and Brenda untied my hands. “Alright, you can put your shirt back on now and tuck your little leash in your pants, my little pet,” she said with a smirk.
“Oh, but before you sit down…” She leaned in, whispering her final instruction in my ear. I winced as she turned on her heel and strutted to her seat, leaving me to my fate.
With trembling hands, I slipped my shirt back on and stuffed the trailing yarn into my fly, but the worst was still to come. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the chalkboard, hesitated, then reluctantly picked up a piece of chalk. My stomach twisted into knots as I forced myself to scrawl out the humiliating words in large, bold letters:
"BLONDIE HAS A TEENSY WEENSY HAIRLESS LITTLE PEE-PEE."
The room erupted into hysterical laughter. I’m sure it was poetic justice for Brenda as I turned and walked briskly back to my seat, staring at the floor while blushing crimson.
Waiting for me on my desk, like a final cruel reminder, were my shredded underpants. With practiced shame, I snatched them up and stuffed them away, a routine I was growing far too accustomed to.
I couldn’t bear to look back, but I’m sure Brenda was basking in the moment, grinning from ear to ear while soaking in her revenge.