Andy's Embarrassing Over the Knee Spanking

[Blondie]

Chapter 2: The Stripping

I didn’t get a great night’s sleep—I was way too excited for that—but I woke up surprisingly energized. The thought of Andy finally getting his much-deserved comeuppance had consumed my mind ever since Mia walked out the door the night before.

But before I get to that I have to tell you about a fun little exchange I had with Andy, who of course was oblivious to the shitstorm that awaited him that day.

I was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a muffin, when Andy—who had already finished his breakfast—was gathering his things for school.

"Hey, Andy, since you’re up, could you hand me a napkin?" I asked sweetly.

He barely spared me a glance. "Do I look like a slave to you? You have two legs—get it yourself."

Ah, classic Andy.

"Tell me," I said, pausing to take another bite of my muffin. "Do you ever feel guilty about being such a jerk?"

No response.

I smirked. "You know, someday you're going to regret being so mean to me all these years."

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I’m outta here."

As he turned to leave, I couldn’t resist. "Beware of the back scratcher," I said lightly.

He gave me a confused look before shaking his head and walking out the door.

I smiled to myself as I finished my muffin. Oh, Andy. If only you knew.

* * * * * *

Mia’s smiling face greeted me just outside the schoolyard. "Are you ready for this?" she asked, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Oh, I’m ready," I said. "A little nervous, but totally ready."

"You got this," Mia assured me. "I feel really good about it."

I then told her about my little exchange with Andy that morning. Perfect timing—because just as I finished, we heard footsteps approaching fast behind us. Andy was coming up, walking at a brisk pace.

As he passed, Mia—without missing a beat—called out, "Beware of the back scratcher."

Both of us broke into laughter. Andy just glanced back at us, shaking his head.

Later, as we got settled in class, Mia upped the ante. She reached into her bag, pulled out the back scratcher, and held it up for Andy to see. She lowered her voice and spoke in the most ominous tone she could muster up.

"Andy... beware... of... the back scratcher."

Again the two of us broke into giggles, while Andy had to be thinking we were just a couple of airheads.

If so, his impression of us was about to be completely transformed.

* * * * * *

Mia didn't waste any time putting our plan into action. It was exactly 9:54 a.m. when Miss Hanover turned her back to write something on the board.

Mia tapped me on the shoulder with the back scratcher. I glanced over, and she gave me a sharp nod. My heart started hammering.

"AAAGH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, ANDY?!" I shrieked, yanking my skirt up my thighs in one swift motion.

I spun around just as Mia pounced on a dumbfounded Andy.

"ANDY, STOP IT!" she cried, grabbing his arm and yanking it forward toward the back of my chair—back scratcher and all. It looked like she was wrestling him to take it away, but really, she was doing all the work.

The classroom erupted.

Miss Hanover whirled around, eyes immediately locking onto my hiked-up skirt. I tried to pull it back down—only to feel resistance. Instead of covering me, my skirt was going higher, almost completely exposing my panties.

I glanced down in horror. Mia, the little devil, had grabbed the hem of my skirt and was pulling it toward her. Somehow she had managed to have his hand, her hands, the backscratcher and my skirt down there all at the same time. It looked like a full-on tug-of-war happening between my thighs.

"ANDY, LET GO OF ANDREA’S SKIRT!" Mia shouted dramatically.

Andy yanked his hand back, Mia released her grip, and I finally managed to yank my skirt down—face burning, heart pounding.

Then, with perfect timing, Mia stood up, gripping the back scratcher like it was the smoking gun.

"ANDREW CUNNINGHAM, WHAT IN THE WORLD HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?!" Miss Hanover roared, storming toward us.

Andy’s eyes went wide. "I—I didn't… I didn't do anything!" he stammered, still completely bewildered. "They—she—I don’t even know what happened!"

"I'll tell you what happened," replied Miss Hanover. She was now standing over my terror-stricken little brother. "You used that...." She looked at the back scratcher, which Mia was still holding. "....that utensil there to pull up your poor sister's skirt!"

"No! I didn't! They....she did it!" he appealed while pointing at Mia. He was sounding desperate.

Miss Hanover looked over at Mia, who was shaking her head at Andy.

"You're a naughty, naughty boy and you should be ashamed of yourself," said Mia. I had to catch myself, because I almost started laughing.

Miss Hanover turned back to Andy. "I know what I saw," she said.

She turned to me. "Are you okay, dear?"

"I'll be okay eventually, Miss Hanover," I said, putting on my best performance of acting like I had been terribly wronged. "I can't believe he did that. That was awfully embarrassing."

"I'm so sorry you had to experience that," consoled Miss Hanover. "Rest assured, your brother will be dealt with accordingly."

"Thanks to that pervert Andy, everyone saw Andrea's panties!" interjected Mia.

Mia and I sat primly at our desks, both doing our best to look offended rather than gleeful. It was a challenge.

Miss Hanover turned her attention to the stupefied Andy. "What you did to your sister was not only inappropriate, but it was also disgusting. I cannot allow such behavior to go unpunished."

Andy’s head whipped toward me. "I didn’t—"

"Enough!" Miss Hanover snapped. "I’m done listening to your pathetic excuses. I am going to make sure you never pull a stunt like this again."

The air in the classroom seemed to crackle with anticipation. The other students were all staring, wide-eyed, waiting to see what Miss Hanover had in store.

Andy gulped. "W-what are you gonna do to me?"

Miss Hanover tilted her head, as if contemplating. "Something fitting. Something that ensures you understand the embarrassment you’ve caused your sister."

She took him roughly by the bicep and led him toward the front of the classroom. "You're in big trouble, young man."

Mia and I snuck a triumphant glance at each other. I think I literally rubbed my hands together in anticipation. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

Mia leaned in and whispered, "Oh my God, this is way better than I imagined." I couldn't help but grin.

Payback’s a bitch, Andy.

* * * * * *

"What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Cunningham?" asked Miss Hanover gruffly. The two faced each other in the front center of the room. Andy's back was to us. "And don't even think about denying what you did."

"I....I....I don't know what to say," said the completely flustered Andy.

"Well, you need to be punished for your despicable behavior."

She paused for a bit while contemplating Andy's discipline. I was so hoping that whatever it was, that she would carry it out in front of us.

"Keep in mind that one option is to get the police involved, and of course then your parents would also have to be included. A case can be made for a criminal offense for sexual misconduct."

She paused to let that sink in. I'm guessing that Andy was shaking in his boots. And I really didn't want it to go that far

"Would you like me to do that?" Andy reacted by shaking his head vigorously. "The other option would be for me to handle your punishment myself. Would you rather we do that? Keep in mind, your punishment will fit the crime to teach you a good lesson."

Punishment to fit the crime? What could that be? He lifted up my skirt—well, not really, but—is she going to make him wear a skirt? Or did she just mean that she's going to embarrass him, since I was supposedly embarrassed? Either way, this is shaping up beautifully.

After a pause, Andy slowly nodded his head up and down. He probably had no idea what she had in mind, but at the same time he had to be thinking that anything would be better than getting the police or our parents involved. I'm pretty sure that Miss Hanover knew that, too.

"Very well, then. I will carry out your punishment. But I'm warning you: If you disobey me in any way, shape or form, then I will call your parents, and we will discuss the police matter. Is that clear?" Andy nodded. "Let me hear you. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes. It's clear. W-what are you going to do?" he asked apprehensively.

"You let me worry about that," she said.

She then slowly walked over to her desk and sat down, leaving Andy standing there alone. For a couple of minutes, she just sat there, staring straight ahead and occasionally looking over at Andy, who was probably nervous as all get-out.

As for me—and I'm assuming most everyone else—I was anxiously awaiting her next step.

She finally spoke, and it was a stunner.

"Andrea, would you mind coming up here and pulling Andrew's trousers down for me?" she asked.

There was quite an outburst of surprise (and I'd venture to say a certain amount of enjoyment) from the students. I don't think we all really knew what to expect, but I don't think anyone anticipated that!

Once I got over the shock I was out of my seat like a jackrabbit. I looked back at Mia and we exchanged wicked grins.

And as for Andy, well, I'm sure he was beside himself. Not only was he about to receive the humiliation of a lifetime, but it would be at the hands of his own sister, of all people. He looked back at me coming up the aisle and started to move away. I'm not sure where he thought he was going.

"You stay right where you are, young man!" admonished Miss Hanover. "You thought it was funny to expose your sister? Let's see how you like being exposed in front of everyone."

Andy was not about to defy the principal, and he remained in his tracks, facing the blackboard.

"Miss Hanover, please, I...."

"Quiet!" interrupted the principal. "You're not to speak unless spoken to, do you hear me?"

Andy didn’t answer, and it seemed like I had free rein to do whatever I wanted with him. I stepped right in front of him and couldn’t help but enjoy the miserable expression on his face. Under different circumstances, I might’ve felt a little bad for him, but honestly, it was quite the opposite. After everything I had put up with from him over the years, I was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. And I was absolutely going to make the most of that moment.

I started to reach for his belt buckle, but I was momentarily interrupted by Miss Hanover. "Andrea, before you lower Andrew's trousers, you might want to take off his shirt. Our goal is to embarrass him by exposing his underpants, and the shirt tail could hide them."

"Good idea, Miss Hanover," I said with a smirk.

And that will help prolong this wonderful moment for me. Oh, I can't believe this. I feel like I've died and gone to heaven!

I looked at Andy, a smile playing on my lips. He avoided making eye contact with me, but that didn’t dampen my enjoyment—in fact, it only increased it. His reluctance to face me only underscored how much he hated the idea of me being involved in his humiliating punishment.

I reached for the top button of his shirt. The boys were all required to wear a white shirt, salt-and-pepper corduroy pants, and black shoes. Most of the boys wore short-sleeved shirts, but Andy preferred the long-sleeved ones. As I unbuttoned his shirt, it struck me that, aside from his face and hands, I hadn’t seen Andy’s bare skin in quite a while. I wondered if he was self-conscious about his body. In fact, I was hoping so, because that would only add to his humiliation when I took off his shirt and pulled down his pants.

I noticed he was wearing a white undershirt, which, at the time, felt a bit disappointing.

"Shame on you, Andy," I said as I unbuttoned the first two buttons, my voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Such a bad little boy you are," I continued, savoring the moment as I worked my way down. I pulled his shirt tail out of his pants to access the final button, finishing it off with a smirk. "Let’s get you out of this shirt, naughty boy. Then I'm going to pull your pants down. I'm really looking forward to that. I imagine you're going to be pretty embarrassed, aren't you, Andy, because everyone will see your little underpanties." A wave of giggling followed, and Andy’s face deepened in color.

I tugged on his left sleeve until it came free from his arm. I pulled the material behind him, and as I circled around him, I stopped and leaned in close, whispering in his ear. "You should’ve been nicer to me, Andy," I said, my voice dripping with satisfaction. Then, I yanked off his other sleeve, effectively stripping him of his shirt.

"I’ll take that, Andrea," said Miss Hanover. I walked over to her desk, handing the shirt off, and as I returned to Andy, he made one last desperate attempt to salvage his situation.

"Miss Hanover," he pleaded. "Please, I didn’t... I mean, I’m sorry... I’m really sorry, and I promise I’ll never do anything like that again. Please, I promise!"

"Didn’t I tell you not to speak?" Miss Hanover replied coldly. "Naughty children should be seen and not heard." She glared at him for a moment before turning her attention to me. "Carry on, Andrea, dear. Let’s get those trousers down."

Smiling devilishly, I looked Andy up and down, like a hungry person admiring a meal before they devoured it. I noticed his bare, slender arms—smooth, save for a faint bit of peach fuzz—and relished the sight. At that moment I surmised that he probably hadn't reached puberty yet (I was a late bloomer, so it is probably in our genes). I also surmised that he probably didn't want anyone to know that he was still prepubescent. I didn't really think that we would find out that day, but the notion made me smile wider.

"It’s time, naughty boy," I said as I reached for his belt. "Let’s get these pants down and have a look at those underpanties," I continued, taking my time and enjoying every second of this humiliating task. When I unfastened his belt, I let it hang loosely at his midsection.

There was so much about this experience that thrilled me, beyond the simple fact that I was playing a huge part in Andy’s monumental humiliation.

I loved the way he instinctively grabbed my wrist when I reached for the button of his pants, prompting Miss Hanover to order him to clasp his hands behind his head—and keep them there if he knew what was good for him.

I loved the small, involuntary flinch of his hips as I unbuttoned his pants.

I loved how his hips twitched even more when I slowly and deliberately pulled down his zipper.

I loved the moment I first glimpsed the whiteness of his underpants. I knew he’d be wearing those tighty-whities. I’d often seen our mother folding them in the laundry room.

I loved knowing that the exposure of those tighty-whities would embarrass him more than any other type of underwear could, because of how utterly uncool they were. The thought of him wearing them only added to my delight.

I loved how he straightened his legs, and his body became rigid when, while I was pulling down his zipper I pressed my hand forward and put my last three fingers inside his zipper, so my fingers rubbed against his privates over his underpants.

I loved how he let out a slight (but perceptible to me) squeal when he felt my fingers rubbing against his privates.

I loved how he knew that I knew that he had felt my fingers rubbing against his privates.

I loved how he had his undershirt neatly tucked into his underpants. I hadn't seen other boys in their underwear, so I didn't know if that was normal or not, but Andy has always been the fastidious type—a bit of a neat freak—so it didn't surprise me.

I loved that Andy having his undershirt tucked in allowed us to see the waist band of his tighty-whities.

I loved the noise coming from his classmates behind him. It started out as a light buzzing sound when I started pulling down his pants. It grew louder as more and more of his underpants came into view, then reached a crescendo when they were fully exposed. It was a combination of laughter and gasps of surprise. I think some of them still couldn't believe it was going to happen, and when it did, they let loose.

I loved that Andy hearing the boisterous reaction behind him undoubtedly added profoundly to his humiliation.

I loved how I got down on one knee to continue pulling his pants down, and that I was at eye level with his tighty-whities.

I loved that there was a faint, yellowish stain at the front of his underpants, and that he had to know that I was staring right at it.

I loved that there was a relatively small bump pushing out his underpants where the yellowish stain was. I didn't know quite what to expect, but I was pretty sure he wasn't well-endowed, and that assumption was clearly confirmed.

I loved that his underpants were about a size too small and on the tight side, leaving no doubt that what was causing the bump indeed was on the smaller side.

I loved that Andy knew I was staring at his little bump, and that he knew I was now aware that he had a smallish penis.

I loved that Miss Hanover also must have observed that Andy had a smallish penis, and that Andy was aware of that. And something told me that Miss Hanover was glad that Andy had a smallish penis.

I loved that there was still laughter going on behind Andy, and that it continued while I pulled his pants all the way down.

I loved how Andy, in a desperate attempt to prevent the inevitable, squeezed his knees tightly together as I pulled his pants down his thighs. As if that was going to deter me! It required a little extra effort on my part, but in short order his pants were scrunched up at his ankles.

I loved how, once his pants were at his ankles, he anxiously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, causing his hips to sway back and forth.

I loved that his white, slender legs were bereft of hair, much like his arms.

I loved that the exposure of Andy's white, slender, hairless legs was compounding his humiliation.

I loved how when I stood up and looked Andy up and down we made brief eye contact, and that his eyes expressed his utter humiliation.

I loved that he was blushing so much that I thought he could glow in the dark.

* * * * * *

I continued to look Andy over, thoroughly enjoying the sight of him standing there, his face crimson, with his underwear fully exposed.

"Thank you, Andrea. You may return to your seat now," said Miss Hanover.

"You're welcome, Miss Hanover," I replied, my voice casual, though I couldn't hide my satisfaction. "It was my pleasure," I added under my breath as I gave Andy one last lingering look. With a grin on my face, I strutted back to my desk. Before sitting down, I touched fingers with Mia, whose grin matched my own.

As I settled into my seat, Miss Hanover, now standing at the side of her desk, addressed Andy. "Andrew, come here, please." It was hard not to laugh as Andy, pants around his ankles, shuffled forward, keeping his hands obediently on his head. The sight was just too ridiculous.

She tapped the top of her desk. "Sit up here for me," she instructed. "You can take your hands off your head." I leaned forward, eager to see what she’d do next.

She didn’t disappoint. With one hand, she lifted his left leg and removed his black penny loafer with the other. "Let's get these shoes off," she said, her voice calm and measured. "This will make it much easier to remove your trousers," she said as she calmly pulled off the other shoe and set it on the floor next to its match.

"Please, Miss..." Andy started, but he was rebuffed by a stern look and an index finger in his face.

"Hold your legs out for me," Miss Hanover directed. Andy reluctantly obeyed, straightening both legs. With a deliberate motion, she gripped the legs of his pants and slowly, almost teasingly, pulled them down to his toes. After removing the pants entirely, she laid them on her desk behind Andy and began neatly folding them.

"You won't be needing these for a while," she said (to my delight!).

While she was doing this, Andy, whose expression was as wretched as you would expect, dropped his legs. "Keep them out," she reprimanded him. "I still need to remove your socks."

Finishing her task, she turned and pulled off one of Andy's white socks. As she was peeling off the other, she said, "Just the underwear, nothing more."

After inserting the socks inside his displaced shoes, she sat down at her desk and looked at him with an almost satisfied smile.

"You may return to your desk now, Mr. Cunningham. You're to remain in your underwear for the rest of the school day."

Oh my God! It's not even 10:15 yet! Oh, this is too good to be true!

As Andy walked down the aisle, the room was filled with stifled laughter and whispered comments. Knowing that everyone was gaping at him—and probably knowing that most of them were enjoying the moment—he walked briskly, with his eyes to the floor. His face was, of course, red as can be, and he had both hands firmly clasped over the front of his underpants. Talk about a walk of shame!

If he had glanced up, he would have caught my toothy grin. I'm pretty sure he heard me giggling.

* * * * * *

Word spread quickly, and by the time recess rolled around, Andy was the talk of the school. You’d think no one had ever seen a boy in his underwear before!

Andy wasn’t around to hear all the gossip. Miss Hanover had made it clear that he wouldn’t be getting his clothes back until the end of the day, and he obviously couldn’t go outside dressed—or undressed—as he was. Personally, I was kind of hoping she’d send him out anyway, but honestly, I couldn’t complain. The day had already turned out far better than I ever imagined.

Mia and I stood outside by the four-square court, yukking it up.

"We did it!" I grinned, grabbing Mia’s shoulders. "I can’t believe we actually pulled it off. And it was even better than I expected!"

Mia, grinning just as wide, playfully squeezed my sides. "Oh, totally! The poor boy didn’t know what hit him," she laughed.

"And you with the back scratcher," I said. "It really looked like you were fighting him to take it away from him. That performance was Oscar-worthy!"

"Thank you, thank you," Mia said with a dramatic bow. "Honestly, he was so confused, it made my job easy."

"And excuse me, my playful little friend....what was up with you pulling my skirt up?"

Mia gave me an impish look. "Oh, that? Just having a little fun with you," she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "You looked a little panicked there for a second!"

"Uh, yeah! I thought you weren’t gonna let go! All the boys around me were getting a pretty good look at my panties. I think Kenny might have been getting a little hard-on."

Mia giggled. "Whoops. Sorry about that. But hey, at least it made it even more convincing for Miss Hanover, right?"

"Oh, no doubt. We had Andy right where we wanted him."

Mia nudged me. "So, tell me—what was it like up there? I bet you were having hella fun."

"Oh, Mia, it was unreal!" I said, practically bouncing with excitement. "I mean, I was already thrilled Miss Hanover called me up there. But then, actually getting to be the one to pull his pants down? I wanted to make it last as long as possible."

"Oh, you were awesome. I wish I could have seen his face. Or the front of his underpants." <giggle>

I snorted. "Well, he made sure to keep that covered when he went back to his seat. You’d think his life depended on it!"

Mia laughed. "I know! I mean, it was like he had his hands glued in place."

"I got a pretty good look at it," I said with a sly smile.

"And?" asked Mia as she looked at me eagerly.

I just grinned. "He'll be in his undies for the rest of the day, so hopefully you'll get to see for yourself."

"Oh, what a little tease you are!" replied Mia.

We both burst into laughter, but after a moment, I stopped and looked her in the eye.

"Hey," I said, lowering my voice, "can I tell you something? Just between us?"

Mia turned serious for half a second. "Of course," she said.

"Well," I said. "You were asking me if I was having fun, which of course I was. But....there was something else...."

"Yes?"

"I was getting kind of....stimulated, if you know what I mean. Should I feel guilty about that?"

"Of course you were! And, no, you shouldn't feel guilty at all. It's only natural. Truth be known, you weren't the only one. When you had him stripped to his underwear I wanted to put my hand under my skirt and take care of business."

"Hahaha. I'm so happy to hear that. I have to tell you, after I had his pants down it was all I could do to keep myself from hauling down his underpants right then and there."

"Oh, I wish you would have!" laughed Mia. "Now that would have been really stimulating. And Andy would have freaked!"

"Tell me about it! You know, I was a little bummed he was wearing an undershirt."

"Yeah, you should have pulled that off while you were at it," laughed Mia. "Let him run around the rest of the day just in his little tighty-whities."

"That would have been amazing. At least his tee shirt is tucked in so we can see them."

"What's up with that tuck-in thing, anyway? It's his freaking underwear."

"I know. It's just Andy being the dork he is."

"I wonder if Miss Hanover has anything else planned for him?"

I smirked. "We can only hope. Either way, this has already been a legendary day. And think about it. It’s not even lunchtime yet."

Mia laughed. "Oh, this is gonna be so much fun."

I couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

And when I get a chance, I'm so looking forward to telling you all about it.

[Robert Brooks]

I can't go wrong with either Subway or Humidifiers. Both lend themselves to so many juicy possibilities.

I’ve been hoping you’d continue Humidifiers for the last decade! One of my all time faves!

[notme222]

Yes! I've been looking forward to this getting renewed ever since BooksieSilk went down.

[Blondie]

Chapter 3: The Substitute

Much to my surprise—and utter delight—Andy's embarrassing situation escalated soon after we returned from the morning recess. And this time it happened without any shenanigans on the part of Mia and me.

When we returned to the classroom, Miss Hanover was standing in the front of the room chatting with another lady, who was unfamiliar to me. She was a well-dressed woman in her mid-twenties, slim and attractive, with blonde hair. After we were seated, we found out who she was, and why she was there.

"Class," started Miss Hanover, "I'd like to introduce you to Miss Prescott. I have to attend a school district conference, and I will be off campus. Miss Prescott will be substituting and will be your teacher for the rest of the day. She comes highly recommended, and I'd like you to be on your best behavior for her. Good day, and thank you, Miss Prescott."

At the time I was quite disappointed, thinking that Andy's embarrassing punishment would be cut short. But my disappointment was soon alleviated. Miss Hanover had one foot out the door, then stopped herself. For whatever reason, she felt inclined to fill us in on Andy's current situation.

"Just so you know," she said, addressing the class while looking at Andy, "Miss Prescott has been thoroughly apprised of Andrew's gross misbehavior this morning, and of the consequences for his actions. She is quite agreeable to the terms of his punishment and is fully receptive to him spending the rest of the day in his underwear. Also—and I hope this won't be necessary—she is not at all opposed to further disciplinary actions should the need arise. (I remember glancing at Miss Prescott at that moment, and I swear I detected a slight smile on her face.) Thank you, and good day."

As she departed I looked back and smiled at Andy. I may have been licking my lips.

* * * * * *

Before continuing with the accounts of that fabulous day, I think it would be worthwhile to tell you what I now know about Miss Prescott. I recently researched her extensively on the Internet, and you're not going to believe this. Her name is Monica Prescott, and she was a substitute teacher for several years, until she was ultimately arrested and stripped of her teaching credential. Evidently she had a history of abusing her students. I didn't read or hear of any physical abuse—it was more along the lines of....well, of what Miss Hanover was doing to Andy that day. Apparently she had a predilection toward inflicting humiliation, and on more than one occasion would force a student to remove one or more articles of clothing in front of her and the other students. At some point someone reported her to the authorities. There was an investigation, and several incidents like the one that got her arrested were uncovered.

And get this: She was convicted of crimes that normally would have warranted a prison sentence. But the school administrator recommended to the judge that she be given a chance to rehabilitate through psychotherapy, and the judge went along with it. She was turned over to the care of a psychiatrist. Isn't that wild?

Well, it gets wilder. It came out later that the psychiatrist (Dr. Carolyn Withers) was a bit of a pervert in her own right, and her therapy consisted of humiliating Miss Prescott in the same manner that she humiliated her students. There was a fair amount of depravity taking place behind closed doors in her office. Some guy who goes by the pseudonym Blondie posted a story about it online, entitled The Satanic Psychiatrist. You should check it out if that sort of thing interests you.

And one other very interesting tidbit: In my research I also contacted the author, and he let me in on a little secret (he also said it was okay if I disclosed it here). He is planning on adding more chapters to The Satanic Psychiatrist someday. When he does, his readers will find out that Monica Prescott divulged to the psychiatrist while under hypnosis that her given name was Felicity, and that she conducted a reign of humiliation terror when she was in high school. Evidently she had a few of the kids under her thumb and subjected them to countless humiliations, most often involving the removal of some or all their clothing against their will.

She posted her own story about it (which I recently read, and, oh my goodness, she really was a holy terror) entitled The Felicity Chronicles: My Exploits as a Humiliator. It hit home for me, because, though it was a different time, it was at Roosevelt High School, the same high school that Andy and I ended up attending!

I heard several stories about her over the years when I was there—her escapades in humiliation were legendary—but I had no idea at the time that our substitute teacher Miss Prescott was that very same Felicity. Crazy!

Anyway, she changed her name to Monica Prescott when she decided she wanted to become a teacher, thinking that if any of her high school abuses came out then it would be the end of her teaching aspirations. And I guess that, rather fittingly, she ended up losing her teaching credential because she couldn't control her strong urges to enforce humiliation, mostly on high school kids. On top of that, she ended up enduring many of the same humiliations that she doled out to them. What goes around, comes around, right?

Sorry to get off track like that, but I just thought that knowing what type of person Miss Prescott/Felicity was would add to your enjoyment of reading the rest of this story.

I was already excited about Andy's embarrassing predicament before Miss Hanover left for the day. Had I known of Miss Prescott's sordid history at the time, I probably would have been overwhelmed with delicious anticipation.

* * * * * *

Miss Prescott took her place at the front of the room, setting her materials down before scanning the class with an easy, confident smile. She had the kind of presence that commanded attention, even without saying a word. But what really caught my interest was the way her gaze lingered ever so slightly on Andy.

"Well then," she said smoothly, "let’s get started, shall we?"

I looked back at Andy and saw him flinch. Maybe it was just his paranoia, but I got the feeling he expected her first order of business to be something to do with him. Honestly? So did I.

But she didn’t acknowledge him right away. Instead, she launched into the lesson plan, moving through the material with the kind of enthusiasm that probably would’ve made a great first impression—if the class weren’t so preoccupied with the half-dressed boy in the room.

I, of course, kept sneaking glances back at Andy, and it was so worth it. Every shift in his seat, every nervous glance around the room, every little adjustment to his underpants—it was all delightful. He was clearly hyperaware of himself, sitting there in nothing but his tighty-whities and a tucked-in tee, praying he could fade into the background.

No chance of that, little bro.

Then came a moment that upped the ante.

Miss Prescott had been writing something on the board when she suddenly stopped, tapping the chalk against her chin in thought. Then, as if it had just occurred to her, she turned back to the class and said, "Oh! Before I forget—Andrew, could you come up to the front for a moment?"

The entire room went still. All eyes were on Andy, who sat frozen in his seat.

"Andrew?" Miss Prescott prompted again, her tone patient but firm.

Oh, this is too good!

Andy swallowed hard. "U-um…"

Miss Prescott tilted her head. "Well?"

A few snickers rippled through the room, and I could almost feel the heat radiating from Andy’s face. He glanced around, as if hoping for some kind of escape route, but of course, there was none.

Slowly—painstakingly—he pushed himself from his chair and stood, instinctively covering the front of his underpants with his hands.

"Come along now," Miss Prescott said.

Andy hesitantly shuffled toward the front of the room. Miss Prescott waited until he was standing beside her before she spoke again.

"Now then," she said, her tone entirely casual, "I just wanted to take a good look at you."

Oh, my goodness!

Andy stiffened. Miss Prescott simply clasped her hands behind her back and regarded Andy with a calm, assessing expression.

"Miss Hanover told me about your behavior this morning," she continued, as if this were the most normal conversation in the world. "And about the….the consequences." She gave him a once-over, her gaze sweeping from his undershirt to his still very tightly clutched tighty-whities. "I must say, I do approve of her embarrassing punishment. You had best behave yourself, or I'll have to step things up a notch."

Andy made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. I looked at Mia. We both were barely containing our glee.

Miss Prescott gave a satisfied nod. "Alright then, Andrew. That will be all. You may return to your seat."

Andy practically bolted back to his desk.

Miss Prescott glanced down at her notes before addressing the class. "Please open your math books to Chapter 13 and read through the first two pages. Once you've finished, we’ll discuss what you've learned."

Chairs scraped against the floor as we settled in, flipping open our books. I made a half-hearted attempt at reading, but my attention kept drifting back to Andy. Every so often, I’d steal a glance and grin to myself, still reveling in the fact that he’d be stuck like this for the rest of the day.

On one of those glances, I noticed something that made me frown—Andy had tugged his undershirt loose from his underpants. It covered up a good portion of his tighty-whities, which, of course, was exactly what he had in mind.

Luckily, Miss Prescott noticed too. And from the sharp look that flickered across her face, she was not amused.

"Andrew, would you please stand up?" she said. Andy stiffened as every eye in the classroom turned on him. Hesitantly, he rose to his feet, hands over his front. Miss Prescott folded her arms. "Did I give you permission to untuck your undershirt?"

Andy’s face flushed. "Um... n-no, I just... I d-didn’t know I had to k-keep it tucked in," he stammered. Even as he spoke, he fumbled to tuck it back in with one hand, still using the other to shield himself as best he could.

Miss Prescott raised a single brow. "The purpose of your punishment, Mr. Cunningham, is to embarrass you, as you embarrassed your sister. The full exposure of your underpants is a major component of your embarrassment. Do you understand?"

The room was silent except for the soft snickers of a few classmates. Andy stood there, red-faced and frozen. Finally, he gave a tiny, reluctant nod. It was silent for a spell while she stared at him, and he stood there like a frightened puppy. I think he felt obliged to speak. "I'm s-sorry, Mrs. Pres....Miss Prescott," he said. "I'll keep it tucked in from now on."

"Do you agree that exposing your underpanties in front of all your classmates is embarrassing?" I absolutely loved her using the term "underpanties," as it had to add to his already keen embarrassment.

"Y-yes," answered Andy softly.

"Let me hear you say it."

Oh, I think I'm going to like this new substitute!

"Yes, it's....it's embarrassing to expose....expose my underpants," said Andy. He stared at the ground and turned redder while taking in the giggling from his classmates surrounding him.

"That's not what I said. I called them underpanties. Let's try again."

Now completely flustered, Andy had to force himself to continue. "It's....embarrassing to expose my....my under....panties." The laughter was abounding, and Andy's cheeks were pulsating with mortification. But the devilish teacher wasn't done.

"In front of....?" countered Miss Prescott while holding out an open palm.

"In front of all my classmates."

"The whole sentence now," she persisted.

Andy took a deep breath before speaking. "It's embarrassing to expose my under....underpanties....in front of all my classmates."

"Yes, I'm sure it is," said Miss Prescott while looking at his underpants. "Now take your seat, while I decide what to do with you."

What to DO with him? DO with him? Oh, be still, my heart!

Miss Prescott turned to walk back to her desk. Andy took his seat, and Mia and I looked at each other with an eager smile, relishing Andy's humiliation, and now with the sense that there was almost certainly more to come.

* * * * * *

Miss Prescott wrote a complicated equation on the board. "Class, I'd like you to take out a piece of paper and work this out. Take your time; it is a difficult one to solve."

Miss Prescott remained seated at her desk as we focused on our assignment, the only sound in the room being the occasional scratch of pencils against paper. and nothing relating to Andy materialized for a while.

Until it did.

After a few minutes, Miss Prescott rose from her chair and strolled purposefully down the aisle. Her heels tapped softly against the floor, her steps deliberate. She stopped just behind Andy’s chair. I paused in my work, glancing back curiously—along with nearly everyone else in the room. The air seemed to buzz with anticipation.

Without a word, Miss Prescott reached down, grasping Andy’s undershirt on both sides, close to his underpants. I felt a tingling inside when I saw the fabric lift, exposing the skin of his white, flat belly, knowing where this was inevitably headed.

Andy jolted in his seat. "No!" he yelped, instinctively pressing his arms to his sides.

She continued to pull upward, exposing more of Andy's skin, much to his horror and my titillation. Andy—at least for the moment—kept his elbows at his sides, impeding the progress of Miss Prescott's undertaking.

"Arms up," Miss Prescott instructed, her voice calm but firm as she tugged higher.

"Please, Miss Prescott....I promise....I promise I'll be good!" said Andy, sounding like a misbehaving six-year-old desperately trying to avoid punishment.

Miss Prescott remained unfazed. She simply took hold of his wrists and, using moderate force, pulled them up high over his head. Andy knew better than to fight it. The moment his arms lifted, Miss Prescott reached back down and pulled the undershirt up and off in one smooth motion.

Just like that, Andy was left sitting at his desk in nothing but his tighty-whities.

Miss Prescott examined the shirt in her hands for a moment before glancing back at Andy, who sat frozen, his face a spectacular shade of red. "How embarrassed are you now?" asked Miss Prescott as she stood over him, ogling him and clearly basking in his exposure. It was a rhetorical question, and the teacher turned and walked back up the aisle with Andy's undershirt in her grasp.

All eyes were glued to my near-naked, slightly-built little brother, who was beside himself and squirming around in his chair like he had ants in his pants. Comically, he had one hand over his privates and the other across his chest, a pose one would expect from a naked girl who was frantically trying to hide her lady bits and little tits from prying eyes.

Andy was stripped to his tighty-whities in the middle of the classroom, and it was awesome!

* * * * * *

The next thirty minutes or so passed without incident. We moved on from math to English, but honestly? No one was paying much attention. It was kind of hard to concentrate when there was a boy sitting right in the middle of the room in nothing but his tighty-whities. Any interest in grammar or literature had long since been overshadowed by the far more entertaining sight of Andy squirming in his seat.

I couldn’t help but steal frequent glances back at him, and each time, the sight made me grin. His face was still an impressive shade of red—a color that hadn’t faded since the moment I yanked his pants down almost two hours before. He sat stiffly, knees pressed together, arms rigidly over his chest and his hands over his lap, trying to cover as much as possible. The poor boy looked absolutely miserable.

And then, at around 11:30, things got even better. And it was then that I—and certainly Andy—realized that Miss Prescott (aka Felicity) was even more depraved than Miss Hanover.

Still seated at her desk, she suddenly addressed him. “Andrew, I know you weren’t able to go outside for recess because of, well…” she gestured vaguely toward him, “your current situation. But tell me, were you able to get to the little boy's room and do your wee-wees?"

A ripple of giggles spread through the class. Andy, already tense, went rigid. “Uh, no… I’m okay,” he mumbled, eyes glued to his desk.

Miss Prescott shook her head. "Well, you do need to do your wee-wees," she countered. You certainly can’t go outside for lunch like that. So I'd like you to go do your wee-wees now, so you can get back before everyone else goes out for their lunch."

The look of horror on Andy’s face was priceless. He squirmed even more, clearly grasping for a way out. “May I… may I please have my clothes back?” he asked desperately. "I can't go out there in my....like this."

Miss Prescott didn’t even blink. “As I already told you, per Miss Hanover’s instructions, your clothing will be returned at the end of the school day. You can and will go out there just as you are."

Andy swallowed hard. “I-I really don’t have to go,” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Nonsense," she replied. "You need to do your wee-wees, lest you have a boo-boo later and tinkle in your little underpanties," she said.

Our giggling turned into outright laughter, and I was relishing Andy's mortification. And then, miraculously, things got even better.

"You'll need to be escorted," declared Miss Prescott. "May I have two volunteers to escort Andrew to the little boy's bathroom so he can do his wee-wees?"

My hand shot into the air so fast I almost pulled a muscle. I didn’t even need to look to know that Mia’s hand was waving wildly beside me. A few other hands were up too—almost all belonging to girls.

Miss Prescott surveyed the room before settling on her choices. “Andrea,” she said. Yes! “And… Mia.”

Mia and I practically jumped out of our seats. We stood over Andy, grinning freely.

“Mia, I must commend you for earlier,” said Miss Prescott. “Miss Hanover told me that your intervention helped prevent Andrew’s repulsive behavior from escalating.”

“Oh, I’m just happy I could help,” Mia replied. "I was afraid that Andrew was going to pull Andrea's skirt all the way off. Even though I stopped him, everyone got a good long look at her panties." She turned and flashed me a smirk. As if she didn’t help to make sure everyone got a good look anyway.

"Well, at least Mr. Cunningham is getting his just desserts," said Miss Prescott, shaking her head. “Spending the day in his underpants, red-faced and humbled. I do hope he’s taking this moment for reflection.”

Andy, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to die. He remained frozen in his seat, as if staying put would somehow make this all go away. But then, in a sudden burst of panic, he launched himself up, pushed past Mia and me, and bolted toward the door. He was two steps from the exit before his departure was forestalled by the authoritative voice of Miss Prescott.

"Stop right where you are, young man!" she bellowed. Andy did indeed stop in his tracks. "Did I not say that you were supposed to be escorted, Mr. Cunningham?" she asked, her tone stern.

“I… I-I thought they would come with me,” Andy stammered weakly.

Miss Prescott narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think so. Not only did you disobey me, but now you’re trying to lie your way out of it?” She shook her head in mock disappointment. “What am I going to do with you, Andrew?”

Mia and I had already made our way to the front of the room, flanking Andy on either side. We were practically buzzing with excitement. We were standing on either side of Andy, which was fortuitous, because it gave Miss Prescott an inspiration.

She seemed to consider something for a moment before her lips curled into a smirk. "It's time you got your hands away from your privates," she said. "Andrea, Mia—please take hold of his hands.”

Andy resisted, clutching his crotch even tighter.

"AnDREW?" reprimanded Miss Prescott. "Don't make me have to come over there!"

Andy let out a miserable whimper and, very slowly, released his grip. Mia and I each took a hand, holding them firmly at his sides. For the first time in almost two hours, the little bump in his underpants was uncovered. Mia and I both made a point to lean forward and look at the front of his tighty-whities. Andy was blushing furiously, his whole body tense as we grinned up at him.

Miss Prescott also gazed at his underpants. I looked up and again I swore I detected a smile on the corners of her lips.

"You're not to cover your little bits with your hands again, she said. Do you understand?"

“Y-yes,” Andy mumbled, looking absolutely mortified.

Miss Prescott continued to stare at Andy while we stood facing her, holding Andy's hands. For the next couple of minutes Miss Prescott scolded Andy for his misbehavior. I can't remember exactly what she said, because Mia and I were focused on our own little endeavor.

Andy had his body angled toward the chalkboard, doing everything he could to keep everyone from seeing the front of his underpants. But Mia, ever the instigator, started tugging lightly on his arm. She was standing on his left, trying to turn him toward his spellbound classmates. I followed her lead from Andy's right side and pulled on his arm to lead him in the same direction. Andy struggled against us, but we had a firm grip on his hands, and he wasn't about to pull away and defy Miss Prescott again. She saw what we were doing and seemed completely onboard. Andy was helpless.

Little by little, we turned him… until finally, he was fully facing the class. Thirty sets of eyes were then focused on Andy's crotch. The room was filled with giggles, spurring us on even more.

Mia suddenly lifted Andy’s arm straight into the air. I followed Mia's lead again and lifted his other arm as high as I could, raising the noise level even higher. We both peeked at Andy's hairless underarms before exchanging gleeful looks. I looked at Andy's glowing face and miserable expression and I beamed brighter.

For her part, Miss Prescott purposefully walked partway down the middle aisle to get a better vantage point of the unusual scene. Looking Andy up and down, she did nothing to hide her smile this time. That's when I realized that her level of depravity might have no bounds.

And also that Andy’s embarrassment was far from over.

* * * * * *

I think I'll leave you for now with the vision of the wretched Andy standing in front of his enthralled classmates in his tighty-whities, hands held high. I'll be sure to check in again and hopefully regale you with some more of the accounts of that marvelous day.

[tim409]

Chapter 3: The Substitute

So the two girls have to escort him to the boy's room. Will there be other boys using the urinal and will the girls get to see their penises? (I hope so) Will Andy still have to keep his hands on his head so the girls will have to pull down his "panties" and will the pull them down to his knees to make sure they are low enough? Lot's of possibilities including maybe he will soil his panties so the sub will have him take them off for the rest of the day.

[Blondie]

Chapter4: The Shaming

When I last checked in, Mia and I were holding the beleaguered Andy’s hands high in the air, putting him on full display for our captivated classmates. Their wide-eyed expressions said it all—they were absolutely enthralled by the spectacle before them. The reason it was a spectacle, of course, was that Andy was wearing nothing but a pair of old tighty-whities and profusely blushing cheeks.

The deviant Miss Prescott stood a few steps away, arms crossed. "Andrew," she said, drawing out his name in a tone that made it clear she was enjoying every second of this. "You are blushing ever so much!"

Andy’s reaction? To somehow blush even harder, which I hadn’t thought was possible.

"You're obviously quite embarrassed. Can you tell me what exactly is making you feel that way?"

"I... I... please... I'm in my... my..." Andy hesitated, looking utterly miserable. Apparently he didn't want to say the word "underpants." Miss Prescott would rectify that forthwith.

She raised an eyebrow. "Your...?"

"My... underpants," he finally admitted in a barely audible voice.

A ripple of giggles spread through the classroom.

Miss Prescott gave him a thoughtful look. "I see. Just for fun, let’s call them ‘underpanties,’ from now on, shall we?"

The giggles turned into full-blown laughter, and Andy looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

Miss Prescott tilted her head. "Now, Andrew, what are you wearing?"

Andy squirmed. "My... underpanties," he mumbled.

"And nothing else, right?"

I looked up at Andy to see him nod his head. At this point, my arm was getting tired, so I switched hands while still holding his up. I glanced up at my brother, and it occurred to me that if I were in his shoes—oh wait, he wasn’t wearing any shoes (ha!)—that if it was possible to make myself just die on the spot, then I would strongly consider availing myself to that option.

I also remember thinking that short of yanking down Andy's underpants (I wish!), Miss Prescott would be hard-pressed to increase the level of Andy's embarrassment.

But I had strongly underestimated the level of her depravity. "Tell me, Andrew," she continued in that calm, patient voice that somehow made everything worse. "I know you're embarrassed standing here in front of your classmates in your little underpanties. What exactly is it about your condition that embarrasses you?"

"I....I don't know....please...." Andy was flustered, and I wasn't sure myself where she was going with this.

"All right, since you’re struggling, let’s make this easier. I’ll go through some possible reasons, and you tell me if I’m right. And I want full sentences, Andrew. No more nodding or mumbling. Understood?"

Andy gulped. "Y-yes."

"Good. Now, are you embarrassed to be standing in your underpanties in front of your sister?"

Andy nodded shamefacedly while staring at the ground. "This conversation is way too one-sided. So from now on you'll respond with your answer and repeat what I said. Now let's try again. Are you embarrassed to be exposed in your underpanties in front of your sister Andrea?"

"Y-yes, I'm embarrassed to be....to be exposed to my....in my....please, I....I forgot what you said."

"Exposed, underpanties, sister, Andrea" she assisted.

"I'm embarrassed to be exposed in my....in my underpanties....to my sister. My sister Andrea."

"Very good." Miss Prescott nodded approvingly. "Now, are you embarrassed that it was your sister Andrea who pulled down your pants and exposed your little underpanties in front of everyone?"

Andy’s face somehow got even redder. "I'm...I'm embarrassed that my sister pulled....my sister Andrea pulled down my pants and....and....please, I forgot."

"Exposed your little...?"

"Exposed my little....I'm embarrassed that my sister Andrea pulled down my pants and....and exposed my under....my little underpants....I mean my little underpanties."

The classroom erupted in laughter again, and I shot Mia a delighted grin. This was gold.

Miss Prescott let the laughter subside before continuing. "Are you also embarrassed that Andrea and Mia are holding your hands up and showing off your underpanties and hairless underarms to everyone?"

Andy’s answer was barely a whisper. "Yes... I'm embarrassed that Mia and my sister are... are exposing my underpanties... and underarms....hairless underarms."

"To...." responded Miss Prescott, holding out an open palm toward the students.

"To all my classmates."

Miss Prescott nodded. "Now, Andrew, your legs are rather smooth, wouldn't you say? Are you embarrassed to be showing off your pretty, girly legs?"

Everyone's eyes—including mine—were immediately drawn to Andy's legs, which were indeed quite hairless, and yes, kind of pretty. I wondered how long he could weather the excruciating torment.

Andy hesitated, clearly dreading what he was about to say. "Y-yes, I'm embarrassed to be showing off my... my legs... my, um... my pretty legs..."

"Pretty girly legs. You forgot the 'girly.' You have pretty, girly legs. Let me hear you say it."

"I have pretty, girly legs." That brought on a new chorus of giggles.

Miss Prescott clasped her hands together. "Excellent, Andrew. Now, are you embarrassed that everyone is staring at your underpanties?"

Andy sighed in utter defeat. "Yes... I'm embarrassed that....everyone is staring at my underpanties."

"While we stare at you underpanties, it is quite noticeable to us that there is a smaller bulge there than one might expect from a young man of your age. Are you embarrassed to have a small bulge in your underpanties?"

Oh, my goodness!

"I....I'm embarrassed to have a....a small bulge in....in my underpanties."

"Yes, I'll bet you are, especially since everyone is staring at it. That small bulge in your underpanties makes one thing pretty clear—that your penis is on the smaller side." While Andy's cheeks continued to pulsate fire engine red, Miss Prescott waited for the laughter to subside. Her next question added more torment to Andy's agonizing ordeal. "Do you have a tiny penis, Andrew? Be honest."

Oh my goodness again!

"I....uh.....I....uh....I don't think....I don't think it's tiny," said Andy while squirming and blushing crimson while looking straight down at a spot on the floor in front of his scrunched-up toes.

"You don't? Do you think it's smaller than average?"

"Um...I don't....no, I think it's....it's average."

"Do I need to pull down your underpanties so we can confirm that you have an average-sized penis?" Gasps and shrieks of exclamation rang throughout the classroom. I was wide-eyed and agape, admittedly hoping she might really follow through with the threat. "Because by the looks of things, I think you might be lying to me again."

"No!" cried Andy. Mia and I both felt a pull from Andy's hands, but we held them up firmly. "Please! I.....oh! Yes, I think I....no, I do.....I do have a small....smaller than average one."

"Are you embarrassed that you have a petite pee-pee?"

That one elicited a louder outburst from the students. I almost choked on my saliva. And of course, everyone continued staring at the small bump in Andy's underpants.

"Oh! Please, I..........I'm embarrassed to have....to have a....." He couldn't bring himself to say it. I mean, can you blame him? But there was no way Miss Prescott would let it slide.

"You're embarrassed to have what, Andrew?" she pressed.

"A petite....penis."

"Did I say 'penis,' Mr. Cunningham? You know I didn't. Now try again."

Somehow, I don't know how, Andy managed to get it out. "I'm embarrassed to have a petite pee-pee," he said as quickly as he could without mangling the verbiage.

Laughter rang throughout, and Andy's face looked like it was hot enough to ignite.

Miss Prescott allowed the amusement to settle before offering him a final nod. "Thank you, Andy. I do believe you've been properly reminded why you should never attempt to leave my classroom without permission."

Andy looked like he had just lived through his worst nightmare. But Mia and I? We were absolutely loving this.

"Thank you, Andrew. I do believe you have been properly shamed for attempting to leave my classroom without permission," said Miss Prescott when the laughter subsided. "Now please allow Andrea and Mia to escort you to the little boys room so you can do your wee-wees."

With that, we lowered Andy’s arms, still keeping a firm grip on his hands. As we turned toward the door, Miss Prescott called after us.

"And I’d better not hear anything about you failing to cooperate with your chaperones, Andrew."

Mia and I looked at each other and grinned. We couldn't wait to take advantage of our most fortunate situation.

[Blondie]

Chapter 5: The Sadists

As Mia and I strolled down the hallway, each firmly gripping one of Andy’s hands, we were positively giddy with delight. Andy, on the other hand, looked like he’d rather sink into the floor and vanish. His bare feet padded lightly against the cool tiles, his only protection from complete exposure being a snug pair of tighty-whities. His face was cycling through various shades of red. And best of all? He was completely at the mercy of Mia and me.

The excursion involved a lengthy, L-shaped hallway, then down a longish flight of stairs to get to the bathroom on the first floor. Thanks to Mia, we would take advantage of the time and enjoy it to the fullest. Of course, that meant that our level of enjoyment would correspond with Andy's level of torment.

Andy, predictably, tried to pick up the pace, likely hoping to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible. But Mia had other plans. With a firm squeeze on his hand, she slowed him down, and I followed suit. Our leisurely stroll forced him to match our speed, ensuring that every agonizing second of his predicament was savored to the fullest.

"I’ll get you both back for this," Andy muttered under his breath, still blushing furiously.

Mia's reaction? She stopped in her tracks and broke out into uproarious laughter, the sound of which echoed off the walls of the deserted hallway. When she finally caught her breath, she turned to me with a wicked grin.

"Oh, Andrea," she said as we started walking again, very slowly. "Can you believe the audacity of him to threaten us right now? A little boy teen stripped to his underpanties, at the mercy of two fully clothed girls who are escorting him to the bathroom to—as Miss Prescott said—to do his wee-wees? I personally find that hilarious."

Andy groaned, clearly realizing he was only making things worse for himself. And we were just getting started.

I smirked, playing along. "I know, right? You’d think someone in his position would be a little more humble."

"And do you know why he’s at our mercy?" Mia asked, her voice laced with amusement.

"Because we’re fully clothed and he’s not?" I offered with another smirk.

"Well, yeah, there’s that," Mia laughed. "But even more so because of the new substitute. If Andy doesn’t behave, all we have to do is tell Miss Prescott he wasn’t cooperating with us. I don’t think that would end well for him."

Andy tensed between us, but we paid him no mind. Instead, we continued our slow, leisurely stroll, chatting about him as if he weren’t even there—which, personally, I found delightful. Judging by the way he squirmed, I was sure it was driving him absolutely crazy.

"I mean," Mia went on, "did you see the look on her face when Andy was standing up there in his tighty-whities, repeating all those humiliating things she made him say?"

"Yes! She looked like she was really enjoying herself."

"Exactly! So if we so much as hinted that Andy wasn’t being cooperative, I have no doubt she’d be more than happy to take things up a notch."

A thrill of curiosity sparked in me. "What do you think she’d do?" I asked, glancing at Mia. "You told me how Miss Hanover once made a boy spend the whole day in the girls' uniform. Do you think Miss Prescott would do something like that?"

Andy let out a strangled noise, but neither of us acknowledged it.

"Oh, I’m sure she’d love to do that," Mia said with a mischievous grin. "She already mentioned his pretty girly legs. I bet they'd look even more fetching if he was wearing a skirt."

"He does have pretty legs," I added, mostly for Andy’s benefit, as was pretty much all our conversation at the time.

Mia let go of Andy’s hand and walked a few feet ahead of us. She stopped, turned around, and gazed at Andy’s legs, inspecting them as if they were some kind of work of art. I held him steady, allowing Mia to indulge in her tormenting curiosity. "They’re perfect," she said, eyeing him up and down. "Well, they would be if he were a girl. They're long, slender, and completely hairless, like they’ve been freshly shaven."

She paused, taking in the full effect, then suddenly added, "I need to feel how smooth they are." Without waiting for a response, she walked up to Andy and reached out for his thigh. Andy immediately jerked his leg away, but Mia didn’t seem fazed.

"Wouldn't it be in his best interest not to challenge me?" she teased, a sly smile on her face.

"I agree," I said. "Otherwise, you’ll tell Miss Prescott that he’s not cooperating, and who knows what kind of embarrassing punishment she’ll have in store for him."

Mia grinned. "Exactly. Let’s try this again. I really want to feel his pretty legs."

Mia reached down and stroked one of Andy's calves. Evidently he got the point, because as tormenting as I'm sure it was for him, there was no resistance this time.

"Oh yes, these are lovely," Mia cooed. "Check it out, Andrea—smooth as silk."

Of course, I couldn’t resist joining in and started gently stroking his other leg. "Ooh, you're right, Mia," I said. "They're... they're velvet-like."

"Yes!" Mia exclaimed. "Velvet-like! I love that!" Mia allowed her fingers to run up the inside of his thigh, boldly close to his privates, then added, "They're soft and smooth all over. Velvet-like."

I think she may have brushed against his balls, because he suddenly stood on his tiptoes and let out a high-pitched yelp. "Please stop!" he squealed, the first time we’d heard him speak in a while.

Mia only giggled, unfazed by his distress. She took his hand and ran her fingertips up and down his arm and bicep, her voice light. "He has silky smooth arms too," she said with a grin. "Girly arms."

She then placed her hand on his chest and gently stroked his chest and tummy. "He's smooth everywhere. And so soft," she remarked with a mischievous chuckle.

"If you were a guy you'd probably have a boner right now," I offered.

Mia laughed. "And if I was a lesbian I'd probably ravish him on the spot."

It was my turn to break out into a fit of laughter, and Mia joined in. I looked up at Andy. He looked absolutely miserable, and he was blushing profusely. Oh, we were having a joyous time!

Mia tugged at Andy’s hand, and we began walking again. "Let’s get back to Miss Prescott and discuss what embarrassing things she might do to Andy if he doesn’t cooperate," Mia said. "The girls’ uniform is a good option, but honestly, he’s already down to his underpanties. That’s probably worse than wearing the girls' uniform, don’t you think?"

"Good point," I said, glancing at Andy. "He’s only got one piece of clothing left, and he’s exposing a lot of skin. At least the girls' uniform would cover him up a little more."

"Exactly!" Mia said, with a devilish smile. "I mean, his face has been glowing bright red ever since you pulled his pants down. If he had to choose between the girls' uniform or just his undies, he’d probably take the uniform in a heartbeat."

"I think so too," I concurred.

"So," Mia continued, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "what do you think Miss Prescott would do to make things even worse for him?"

"Hmm, I don’t know. Tell me what you think she would do," I prompted. Okay, I had an idea or two. But I was thoroughly enjoying Mia's commentary, and in truth was becoming quite titillated by it. And of course, Mia didn't disappoint.

"Well, the way I see it," she said, "Miss Prescott clearly has a thing for imposing humiliation. And it's obvious that she is taking pleasure in Andy's....his state of undress. So, seeing as Andy has been stripped of everything except his underpanties, what do you think her next move would be?"

I grinned. "Oh my goodness. Naked! Do you think she’d actually go that far?"

Mia smirked. "I absolutely think she would go that far. The look in her eyes while she leered at Andy says it all."

I glanced up at Andy, whose face had drained of color. If he wasn’t already humiliated beyond belief, this conversation was sure to push him over the edge. And I couldn’t resist twisting the knife just a little. "Can you imagine what it would be like to be stripped bare-assed naked in the classroom, in front of everybody?" I asked, watching his expression shift from horror to something closer to sheer panic.

"Almost unimaginable," Mia responded. "I mean, I can't even imagine being stripped to my underwear, like Andy is right now."

"Same here," I agreed. "My face gets warm just thinking about it."

"Exactly!" said Mia. "It’d be like you or me standing in front of the whole class in nothing but our bra and panties. Just picture that—and then imagine two of the boys, with Andy being one of them, escorting you to the bathroom, just like we’re doing with him now."

"It’s unthinkable," I said, shuddering dramatically for effect.

"I know, right?" Mia giggled. "And let’s take it a step further. Imagine being completely naked in front of all our classmates. Like Miss Prescott might do to Andy if we give her a bad report."

I shook my head. "I’d never get over it. I wouldn’t be able to face them ever again."

"Exactly! Let's say for instance it happens to Andy today. I guess over time it might get a little easier for him, but he would never get over it. Every time any of our classmates see him, or even if just his name comes up, they'll be thinking, 'I saw him naked.' I know I would. And that image would never go away."

I tilted my head, pretending to be deep in thought. "I’m picturing it now," I said with a smirk. "Andy, red as a tomato, squirming, completely naked. And especially when his petite pee-pee is exposed. You're right, that vision would be in my head forever. And he would never live it down."

Mia nodded, eyes twinkling. "I’m picturing it, too. "And in my mind that petite pee-pee has no hair on it."

"Yes! That's what I see, too! Bald as an egg!"

Andy made a strangled noise in protest, but Mia ignored him.

"If I tell you something right now, will you promise not to tell anyone?"

"Of course."

"The vision of Andy, forced naked in the classroom, embarrassed as humanly possible....I have to say, that I....well, I'm getting turned on." I looked over at Mia and grinned. I also looked at Andy, who looked like he wanted to vomit. As the reader may remember, Mia and I had already had a similar conversation on our own during recess, so this was strictly for Andy's benefit.

"Don't get me wrong," continued Mia. "It's not that I'm sexually aroused by him. It's more about his forced nudity, and his humiliation."

"I'm so glad you told me that," I retorted. "Because I was feeling the same thing, and I guess I was feeling a little guilty about it."

"I can't explain it," said Mia. "I just know it to be true. To tell you the truth, I've been feeling it pretty much all day, ever since you pulled his pants down."

"Me too!" I exclaimed. "Gee, I guess that makes us a couple of sadists!"

"Haha! If so, I'm okay with that, because I'm having too much fun."

"You know," I said, "I don’t think we’re the only ones enjoying this. Miss Prescott, obviously. But did you see the looks on some of our classmates’ faces?"

"Oh, I did!" Mia said, laughing. "Quite a few of them looked way too entertained."

"Right? Most of the girls, and even some of the boys. Though I bet some of the boys were cringing, picturing themselves in Andy’s place."

"I'm sure," laughed Mia. "They had to be relieved it was Andy and not them. But I guarantee that some of them were getting a hard-on."

"Haha, yes," I said. "Andy’s officially the most popular boy in our class today!"

I really enjoyed this part of our dialog, and how it had to be affecting Andy. I mean, he already was mortified beyond belief, and now he had to face the knowledge that we weren’t just enjoying his humiliation—we were getting turned on by it. And, knowing that a lot of his classmates were feeling the same way had to make it even worse, and probably made it that much harder when he had to go back in there and face them again.

"I wonder," Mia said slyly, "how Andy feels about being responsible for making so many people horny?"

"I’m sure he feels very special," I replied, and we both giggled.

For a moment, we walked in silence, letting Andy stew in his own embarrassment. But Mia, of course, wasn’t done.

"What’s been your favorite part of Andy’s embarrassment today?" she asked.

"Oh, golly," I said, pretending to ponder. "There were so many fun parts. Getting called up to pull his pants down has to rank right up there."

"Yes," laughed Mia. "You looked like you were really enjoying yourself."

"Oh, absolutely," I said. "While I was doing it, I thought about all the annoying things he’s done to me over the years. Seeing him flinch when I reached for his belt buckle… that was satisfying. And then actually pulling his pants down—he was trembling, Mia! And when I exposed his underpanties, along with his pretty legs…" I giggled. "His face was so red....yes, Mia, I was really enjoying myself. And I still am!"

Mia let out a laugh. "I'm really loving Miss Prescott's involvement, and how she's even more twisted than Miss Hanover."

"Isn't she, though? We couldn't have asked for any better."

"I know. When she brought up the small bump in his underpants I couldn't believe it."

"Seriously! And making him say he has a petite penis? Oh, my goodness!"

"That was unbelievable," responded Mia. "Andy must have wanted to die." She paused, then said, "And to back up a bit....it was such a delicious moment when she walked back to his desk, made him raise his arms and she pulled his tee shirt off."

"One hundred percent!" I agreed. "Andy was suddenly stripped to his tighty-whities and didn't know what to do with himself. I don't know about you, but I was getting turned on by it."

"Oh, definitely," Mia replied, grinning ear to ear. "That was such an exciting moment."

And then Mia, unpredictable as ever, decided to take it to another level. We had just reached the landing halfway down the staircase when she struck.

"You know," she mused, a mischievous glint in her eye, "I would have been even more turned on if you would have done this after you pulled his pants down." While she was saying this she swooped behind the unsuspecting Andy and took hold of the leg openings of his underpants with both hands and hauled them downward. Before he had a chance to react, his tighty-whities were resting at his calves.

"AAUGGGH!" screamed the horrified Andy, or something sounding vaguely similar.

The subsequent moments were somewhat of a blur, but I know that Andy jerked his hand from mine and, moving with frantic urgency, he had his underpants yanked back up to their proper place in the blink of an eye. "Goddammit, knock it off!" screamed Andy furiously. His face, already red, somehow managed to turn an even deeper shade of crimson. He glared at both of us while clutching his waistband like his life depended on it.

"Oh, Mia, you're too much!" I said.

"Did you get a good look?" asked the impish Mia.

"No," I laughed. "He was too quick. How about you?"

"I didn't get a chance to see his baby soldier, but I can tell you that he has a cute little baby bum."

"Haha," I laughed. "Maybe we'll see more next time."

"There won't be a next time!" said the still-shaken Andy as we took his hands in ours again.

"Oh, there will be a next time," responded Mia confidently as we each took hold of his hands.


* * * * *

We reached the bottom of the stairs and walked in silence as we neared our destination. That silence was broken when we were about twenty feet from the bathroom by the unmistakable creak of a door opening. Andy stopped in his tracks and tried to pull away, but Mia and I both tightened our grips on his hands and pushed our bodies closer to his to keep him in place.

We were about to have an uninvited guest—and Andy’s embarrassment was about to hit a whole new level.

[tim409]

Maybe the girls could hold his penis as he pees and make sure his underwear gets soaked so he would have to take them off so he has to walk back to class naked.

[Blondie]

Chapter 6: The Schoolgirl

The three of us stood in the hallway after hearing the the bathroom door opening. Mia and I were quite interested to see who the newcomer was. Andy, on the other hand, was quite apprehensive, because no matter who it was, it would be a new witness to his humiliation.

In short order a girl—she looked to be about a sixth grader, no more than twelve years old, if that—emerged from the girls' bathroom and turned toward us. She took two steps before seeing us, and when she did she stopped in her tracks and just stared at us. Well, mainly she was staring at Andy.

Her look of shock gradually gave way to one of amusement. "Why is he in his underpants?" she finally asked.

"He's been a bad boy, and he's being punished," stated Mia.

"Really?" said the girl, who was quite intrigued. "Omigod, he must be really embarrassed!" She boldly came up closer and looked Andy up and down with a grin. "What's your name?" she asked. Andy wanted no part of the girl and wasn't about to engage her. He pulled harder to try to pull us toward the bathroom, but we held him in place.

"His name is Andy," I said.

"I see London, I see France. I see Andy's underpants!" she squealed, then giggled uncontrollably like the young schoolgirl she was. We couldn't help but join in on the laughter. Andy squirmed in our grasp and turned a brilliant shade of red.

"Doesn't he have pretty legs?" asked Mia.

* * * * *

At this point, since Andy's "pretty legs" has come up on more than one occasion, maybe it would be a good idea to give you a visual. I didn't get a picture of them on that day, but I did take one the following year. Remember that I told you in the very first chapter that I eventually gained the upper hand on Andy, and that I would take full advantage of that? Well, without giving too much away (in case I ever write a follow-up story about the humiliations we put Andy through), during our freshman year at Roosevelt High School Mia and I made Andy wear a girl's uniform to school one day. Roosevelt wasn't a private school, and they didn't require a uniform, which made it all the better. I dug up my uniform that I wore the previous year at St. Veronica's (the same one I was wearing as we escorted Andy in the hallway). It was too small for him, but we were okay with that.

Mia and I made him pose for a picture (taken in my bedroom after school). As you can see, he really did have pretty legs for a teenage boy. It helped that we made him shave off the peach fuzz before we took this picture.



* * * * *

The girl looked Andy's legs up and down. "Yes!" she said. "They are! And they don't have any hair on them. My brother's legs have a lot of hair on them, and they're not pretty like those."

I grinned while looking up at Andy, whose blushing face and miserable expression said it all. Then the devious Mia was at it again.

"Would you like to see his bare bottom?" she asked.

The girl's eyes lit up. "Really? Could I?" she asked incredulously.

"No!" howled Andy, while wriggling more fervently. We held him firmly by his wrists. I think he was about to break loose and make a run for it, so Mia chose that moment to issue a warning.

"You can if we say you can," Mia told the girl. "Andy knows better than to disobey us. Otherwise, we'll tell our teacher that he's been a bad boy again and he'll be in even bigger trouble." The young girl seemed to like that and had a smirk on her face to show it. "She probably would make him take off his underpants," continued Mia. The girl's smirk turned into open-mouthed wonder. "So, I'm sure Andy will be more than willing to turn around and lower his underpants for you so you can look over his bare bottom."

"Oh, my God!" said the giggling girl. "This is so fun!"

"Do you want to see Andy's bare bottom?" asked Mia devilishly.

"Yes, please! Let's have a look!" said the girl.

"Okay then," laughed Mia.

Mia and I let go of Andy's wrists and stepped forward, joining the spellbound girl, who seemed almost overwhelmed with glee by her stroke of good fortune. The three of us stared at Andy, who stood motionless with both hands over his little bump. The anguished look on his face was not unlike one of someone who had been constipated for days.

"Is he gonna do it?" asked the girl eagerly.

"If he knows what's good for him he will," answered Mia.

We continued to stare, then finally Andy, resigned to his fate, turned his back to us.

"He's gonna do it!" shrieked the excited schoolgirl.

And sure enough, to my amazement, I watched my brother turn around, take hold of the waistband of his underpants and quickly lower them to just below his buttocks. Just as quickly, he pulled them back up.

"That wasn't long enough," declared Mia instantly. "Andrea, did you think that was long enough?"

"No way," I quickly assented.

"And they weren't down far enough," added Mia. "He needs to lower them to his knees and leave them there until I say he can pull them back up."

Andy, still with his back to us, stood motionless again for a spell. Then, much to our delight, he submitted. Hooking his thumbs inside his waistband, he lowered his underpants, only this time further down. Not to his knees as Mia had suggested, but they came to rest at his mid thighs, which was good enough for us since his smooth little butt cheeks were completely exposed. I must admit I was becoming a bit titillated. Not just because I was looking at a bare ass; more so, it was because it was Andy, and that he was exposing himself to three girls against his will, and that I knew he was absolutely mortified.

"Oh my God, this is awesome!" shrieked the schoolgirl.

"Doesn't he have a cute little bum?" said Mia as we collectively feasted our eyes on the naked tushy before us. "I can't decide if it's like a baby's bum or a girly bum."

"Let's go with a baby girl's bum," I said, and all three of us laughed.

"Are you going to make him turn around?" asked the schoolgirl wishfully, causing Andy to noticeably tense up.

Mia was already slowly sneaking up on Andy in hopes of getting a glimpse of his front side. But Andy saw her coming out of the corner of his eye, and he hastily yanked up his underpants before Mia could achieve her goal. "Knock it off!" screamed Andy, who turned around, allowing us to take in his brightly flushing cheeks. "That's enough!" Andy then started walking toward the bathroom, and Mia and I immediately took his hands again.

As for the schoolgirl, she turned and skipped away—literally—in the other direction, giggling all the while. I'm sure she couldn't wait to tell her friends about her extraordinary, serendipitous experience.

Indeed—if you'll allow me to fast-forward momentarily—I witnessed a scene a couple of days later that made me laugh out loud. It was during the morning recess, and Andy was sitting by himself on a bench against the building. The schoolgirl was standing a few feet in front of him alongside two of her young girlfriends. She was pointing at Andy—I'm sure she was saying something along the lines of "This is the guy who was in his underpants in the hallway, and we made him show us his bare bottom"—and the three of them were giggling animatedly. Andy looked up, took in the scene, turned bright red, jumped up and walked briskly away. The girls' giggling escalated to outright laughter as Andy disappeared around the corner.

Over the next few days, word had spread around the school and most of the kids were aware of Andy's experience. From that point on, he quite often had to endure knowing looks of amusement from kids he didn't even know.

* * * * * *

We reached the outside of the boys' bathroom, and Mia resumed her devilish ways. She addressed Andy directly for the first time since we had left the classroom. "Do you want us to hold your underpanties for you while you do your wee-wees?" she asked. "You already have a little yellow stain on them where your little bump is," she said while looking directly at the little yellow stain where his little bump was. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to make it worse." Andy's reaction was to pull his hands from ours and enter the bathroom. We followed him in there, which was something I don't think he expected.

"Hey!" he yelled. "You can't come in here!"

"And who's going to stop us?" asked Mia. "Certainly not a boy in his underpanties."

Andy stood still momentarily, not quite knowing what he should do. Ultimately he decided his best course would be to finish his business and be done with it, so he went straight for one of the urinals. Of course, Mia and I followed him, and stood on either side of him. He looked back and forth at us nervously. "Please, just....just go away!" he pleaded.

"No," answered Mia, "We need to see you do your wee-wees so we can give Miss Prescott a good report."

"I'll do it," replied Andy. "Just let me....let me do it alone."

"Nope," responded Mia. "We're not leaving until you do your wee-wees, so you best just get it done."

The rattled Andy, after a few moments of indecision, eventually started fumbling around with the front opening of his tighty-whities. Mia and I stood on our tiptoes and looked over his shoulders, much to his anxiety. "Just go away!" he pleaded again.

But we weren't going anywhere. Andy leaned his torso as far forward as he could, hugging the urinal so we couldn't see him do his business—or more accurately, so we couldn't see his penis.

"Don't you want us to see your pee-pee?" asked Mia. She looked at me and said, "I don't know about you, Andrea, but I'd like to see Andy's pee-pee."

"No! Go away!" he said.

"I don't think Andy wants us to see his pee-pee," I said. "He's very shy, plus I get the impression that it's on the small side, so it would be very embarrassing for him if anyone saw it."

"Not only that," said Mia, "I don't know for sure, but I have a feeling he doesn't have any hair down there yet. If he has a small pee-pee with no hair, that would be quite embarrassing. So it makes sense that he doesn't want us to see it."

"One hundred percent," I said.

"I do have hair!" chimed in Andy defensively. I wasn't sure if he was lying, but I had a feeling he was.

"I do want to see it," said Mia. "Maybe Andy can do a little peep show when he's done with his wee-wees."

"No way!" said Andy, who was cringing throughout our back-and-forth dialog.

We giggled and then stood quietly for a bit, waiting for Andy to do his thing. After a while he said, "I can't go while you're watching."

"Okay, we'll turn our heads away and just listen," said Mia. "You're not letting us see anything anyway."

While we turned away and grinned at each other, we waited for Andy to pee. It was almost a full minute later when we heard the tinkling sound of a stream of liquid hitting the porcelain.

"He did it!" cheered Mia. "Whoo-hoo! Good boy, Andy!" She patted him on his behind and applauded lustily, and I joined in. I grinned with amusement while noticing the back of Andy's neck turning red.

Andy finished up, turned around and started walking back toward the door. Mia and I instinctively looked at his underpants and we both noticed a little wet spot, right on the small yellow stain.

That's when the audacious Mia tried to take things to the next level. "Andy!" she yelled while pointing at the wet spot. "What's the matter with you? You must have put your little pee-pee back inside before you finished doing your wee-wees!" Andy tried to walk around her, but Mia blocked his path. She reached for his underpants and said, "We need to clean you up before we go back. You'll need to get these off."

And that's when all hell broke loose.

Andy pushed Mia aside and bolted for the exit. But before he got that far Mia managed to grasp the back waistband of his underpants. Andy tried to disengage her grip, but she held on firmly. It's when she started to pull downward that Andy determined that it was in his best interests to forgo his escape and tend to matter at hand—so to speak. Andy had already demonstrated that exposing his precious privates to us might be the last thing on earth he was willing to do, and at that moment he was well aware that he was perilously close to that very outcome.

He reached back and grabbed Mia's arm, wrenching it back and forth in hopes that she would loosen her grip on his underpants. But she held on tenaciously and continued her efforts to pull downward. Andy's best answer for that was to drop his body in the same direction Mia was pulling, and in a matter of moments they were both grappling on the floor.

"Let go!" screamed Andy, who was fighting tooth and nail to prevent Mia from achieving her objective.

"Help me get these off, Andrea!" shouted the giggling Mia as they continued to tussle on the floor. "I want to see Andy naked!"

Up to that point I had been a very interested spectator looking on in wide-eyed amazement. But Mia brought me out of my sense of wonder, and I dove into the fray.

Now, if you had told me at the beginning of the day that I would be on the floor with Mia in the boys' bathroom trying to separate Andy from his underpants, I would have told you that you have the wildest imagination of anyone I have ever met. But there I was, giggling freely on the bathroom floor while Andy fought furiously to maintain what modesty he had remaining. With my help we managed to get his underpants down to his knees. Andy was facing away from us, and he still had one hand clenching his genitals while using his other hand to hold on to the waistband of his underpants, pulling upward in a desperate attempt to keep them from coming down further.

"Stop it! Let go!" he screamed frantically.

Mia just giggled and tried pulling on the arm that Andy was using to cover his privates. "Help me pull his hand away, so we can see!" shouted Mia. I did so, and at one point we did manage to pull his hand away. But Andy immediately turned his body and faced downward before either of us had a chance to catch a glimpse. He was face down on the bathroom floor, with one hand pulling up on his underpants (which were just above his knees) and the other trying to fight us off.

"Turn him over!" shouted Mia.

For us it was a comical scene. While Andy fiercely fought to keep us from turning him over, the two of us were laughing hysterically. Mia was pulling up on his hips while I pulled on his arm. At one point we managed to get him on his side, but he was steadfast in his efforts to keep us from seeing his goodies, and he again quickly covered up.

I think in the end it was probably our laughter and giddiness that cost us our chance to get Andy's underpants off, or at least see his penis. That and Andy's resoluteness. His desperation and motivation enabled him to break free from our grasps. He quickly stood up and, while pulling up his underpants he made a beeline for the door. Mia made a last-ditch effort to hold him back, and she momentarily had a grip on his ankle. But Andy pulled Mia along the floor for a few feet until they reached the door, where he broke free and took off bolting down the hallway. We gave pursuit, and it was a humorous sight as we chased the underpants-clad Andy back up the stairs. We were giggling freely as we watched him scamper down the hallway like he was running for dear life. The sound of his bare feet slapping the tiled floor with each step added to the entertaining spectacle.

Andy always was a fast runner—and again, his motivation probably gave him an extra step—so we were unable to catch up with him. As he pulled the handle of the door to our classroom he stopped momentarily to look back at us and shook his head. He peeked into the classroom, then looked back in our direction as if he was contemplating making a run for it. In the final analysis I think it was his state of attire that gave him cause for pause, and he resignedly entered the classroom.

If he had any idea what was in store for him the rest of the day at the hands of the debauched Miss Prescott, he most assuredly would have taken a different course.

[Blondie]

Chapter 7: The Spandex

Andy had just entered the classroom a few seconds before, and Mia and I were a few steps behind him. I got there first, and when I opened the door we heard Andy pleading his case to Miss Prescott.

"They came into the boys' bathroom!," he was saying breathlessly. "They're not allowed in there. And then they tried to take off my underpants!"

Before entering I looked back at Mia with a worried look on my face. "I'll handle this," she said calmly.

When we walked in, Andy was in the front of the room facing Miss Prescott. His hands were over the front of his underpants. Miss Prescott looked over Andy's shoulders and addressed us. "Andrew tells me you tried to take off his underpanties. Is that true, girls?"

"Yes, Miss Prescott, that is true," said Mia, much to my surprise. "But we were trying to teach him a lesson. The little brat pulled down his underpants—I mean his underpanties (giggle)—and flashed his bare bottom to us, right there in the hallway. We felt it was a sign of disrespect not only to us, but to you as well. So we said, 'Okay, if you really want to flash us, go ahead and take off your underpanties.' He didn't want to do that, so we tried to take matters into our own hands. He resisted, broke away from us and, well, here we are."

I don't think Miss Prescott bought that story for a second, judging by the smirk on her face. But it didn't matter, because it was pretty apparent that she was quite enjoying Andy's humiliation, and it gave her more ammunition to carry it out further. And of course, Mia sensed that, which is why she was so confident in her approach.

I love her!

Meanwhile, Andy was so stunned by Mia's little spiel that he was momentarily speechless.

"Is that true, Mr. Cunningham?" asked Miss Prescott. "Did you really pull down your underpanties in the hallway and expose your bare bottom to Mia and Andrea?"

"Y-Yes, but...." said the beleaguered Andy. "But they made...."

"No buts!" interrupted Miss Prescott authoritatively while pointing one finger at Andy. "I've had quite enough of your impertinence today!" She paused, while seemingly trying to decide what steps to take next. She looked at us. "Girls, thank you for your help with Andrew, and I'm sorry he made things so difficult for you. You may take your seats."

Mia and I strutted back to our seats, both wearing toothy grins. I sat down and fixed my eyes on the twosome in the front of the room, very much looking forward to whatever was about to unfold.

Miss Prescott addressed Andy, who stood with slumped shoulders and his hands clasped over the little bump in his underpants. "As for you, young man...." said Miss Prescott.

"Please, Miss Pres....." appealed Andy, but his attempt to plead his case was immediately thwarted.

"You will not speak unless I tell you to, is that clear?" she said. Andy nodded his head dismally. "Your behavior has certainly warranted further punishment," said Miss Prescott. She paused and stared at Andy, appearing like she was deep in thought. "I'll have to think about a proper punishment to apply after the lunch hour.

"In the meantime, I was going to spare you the embarrassment of going outside for lunch with your classmates, but now I've changed my mind." She let that sit there for a moment while there were gasps of surprise (and delight!) emanating from the students, while the look of horror on Andy's face is all one needed to know about how he felt at that moment. "The problem is," she continued, "I can't let you go out there like that. But you are not getting your clothes back before the end of the day. Therein lies the dilemma." Again she paused while mulling that over. "What to do, what to do," she pondered. After a few moments her face lit up as if she suddenly had a revelation.

"I've got it!" she said. "I have just the thing for you. I'll be right back. My bag is in the teachers' lounge," she said as she headed toward the door. Then she stopped and looked at Andy. "On second thought, you can come with me. We'll get you dressed in the lounge, then you can come back and show off your new outfit for your classmates." She paused in the doorway while Andy stood dumbfounded. "Now!" she ordered, and the apprehensive Andy quite reluctantly followed his teacher, venturing once again into the hallway clad only in his tighty-whities.

* * * * *

When the door closed, there was quite a commotion in the room. We were all excited, and it seemed like everyone was talking at once. I turned and faced Mia. "You saved us!" I said. "I don't know how you come up with this stuff," I said admiringly.

"It was easy," responded Mia. "Miss Prescott is having too much fun with Andy. All I had to do was give her a reason to discipline him. She took the bait. Well, I don't think she believed any of it, but that's not our problem."

"I don't either," I laughed. "Poor Andy was like a sacrificial lamb."

"I know," said Mia. "Think about it. We humiliate the shit out of him by making him pull down his underpants for that girl, then he gets in deeper trouble with Miss Prescott for pulling down his underpants. Isn't the irony of that just wickedly funny?"

Well, at least for us it must have been very funny, because both of us broke into convulsive laughter that lasted almost a minute. "Ohhh," I said as my laughter started to die down. "What do you think she'll make him wear? The girls' uniform?"

"That would be my guess," responded Mia. "But you never know with her. She could have something else up her sleeve."

"Oh, my goodness. It must really suck being Andy right now," I said with a chuckle.

"That might be the understatement of the year," laughed Mia. "And we still have a few hours left. I think it might get even worse for him, the way Miss Prescott is acting."

"I think you might be right," I said with a hopeful grin.

* * * * *

The door opened, and the din in the room quickly switched to dead silence. We all looked on in eager anticipation. A few moments went by while no one appeared. I think Miss Prescott was holding the door open for Andy, but apparently he was quite reluctant to step inside. We would soon find out the reason why.

"Come on," we heard Miss Prescott say. "You go in first." There was silence for a spell before we heard her speak again. "I know this will be embarrassing for you, but you are going to go in there. You might as well just get it over with. Now go to the front of the room, face your classmates and wait for me. And keep your hands by your sides. Don't you dare try to cover up the little bulge in your new outfit."

There were some tittering sounds throughout the room. Mia put a finger to her lips and made a loud "shhh" sound. She didn't want to miss a word, and neither did I.

"If you don't go in there right now," we heard her say, "I'll just take this off of you and you can walk in there stark naked. Would you like to do that?"

There were more titters, and that was okay, because Miss Prescott needed to say no more, as the threat of stripping him naked seemed to do the trick. Within a few seconds my brother walked into the room, stopped in the center and faced his classmates, who at that point were roaring with laughter. The reason for the laughter? The thirteen-year-old boy was wearing a pink, long-sleeved, scoop necked leotard with matching ballet slippers.

When he first walked in, his face matched the light pink color of his outfit. As he stood there enduring the laughter, the light pink changed to scarlet red.

I looked back at Mia and saw that she shared my open-mouthed glee. I turned forward and relished the sight of Andy in his shame clothing, embarrassed to the max. The leotard was quite tight, pretty much form fitting. I'm pretty sure the material was part spandex, considering the way it clung to his slim physique.

And that's why Andy was fighting with his every being to obey Miss Prescott's warning not to cover up his little bulge. His hands were on the top outsides of his thighs. It was almost like there was an invisible barrier holding back his hands to keep him from covering up. He fidgeted around and tried pulling the material down—the leotard rode high up his thighs—but it was to no avail, as it sprang right back up.

And the reason why Andy was struggling to keep his hands at his side? Well, let's just say that, although his tighty-whities gave us reason to suspect that his genitals might be on the small side, we couldn't know for sure. But the spandex material of the leotard left nothing to the imagination. Andy's attributes—well, "shortcomings" is probably a more appropriate word (giggle)—were pretty much out there for us all to see. The tip of his little penis was sticking straight out, causing a protuberance of about an inch jutting from the leotard. I know that sounds small—and it was—but to be fair, the elasticity of the spandex probably made it look even smaller than it really was. And I had no problem with that.

And his little round balls were clearly defined within the snug material, which was a delectable sight for me, knowing how embarrassed Andy must have been. To this day I still giggle to myself when I conjure up the image of the red-faced Andy modeling his feminine attire, with his long, hairless legs, his ballet slippers, and the size and shape of his little goodies outlined for us all to see.

We were not allowed to use our phones while at school, but the devilish Mia managed to take a quick shot before Miss Prescott came back into the room. She sent it to me that night. Here's what it looked like:



Oh, and I found a picture online of the exact same ballet slippers that he had to wear. So cute!



* * * * *
Miss Prescott had been standing in the doorway taking in the scene before deciding to come in. When she did, she had ownership of Andy's tighty-whities—they were dangling from the fingertips of her left hand, which was probably intentional on her part so we could all see that Andy was no longer wearing them. I was thinking that he may have put the leotard on over his underpants, but obviously that wasn't the case. I looked back at Mia with a wide-eyed grin, which she returned. I knew we were both wondering the same thing: Did she see him naked? The possibility that she did added more spice to the moment for me.

Miss Prescott carried a moderately-sized handbag in her other hand. She walked past Andy, laid the handbag on her desk, then deposited Andy's underpants in the bottom drawer before closing it shut with her foot. She then opened her handbag and reached in. She looked up at Andy, smiled to herself and pulled out a pair of pink bunny ears. They were the kind with a headband—this one was white—with the pink ears sticking up, coming to a point.

I told you previously that I recently read her book, The Felicity Chronicles: My Exploits as a Humiliator. In her book, Miss Prescott—aka Felicity—recounted several instances where she employed bunny ears on her victims. She really enjoyed how it intensified their humiliation during her sessions. She also stated that she regarded the bunny ears application as one of her trademarks.

Well, apparently Felicity's trademark carried over into her adulthood, because Andy was about to be the latest victim of her self-indulgence. "I have something else for you to wear, Andrew," she said as she walked over to him, bunny ears in hand. "I think it will match your pretty outfit rather nicely." She purposefully held up the bunny ears for Andy to regard. "Yes, you'll be my cute little bunny," she teased as she affixed it to his head. She stepped back to admire her handiwork and smiled to herself in satisfaction. The bunny ears had the desired effect, as Andy's face somehow turned even redder. Our giggling certainly helped contribute to that.

But the wicked Miss Prescott wasn't quite done. She went back to her bag, reached in and pulled out a large, white, round, fluffy bunny tail and sauntered back over to Andy. "Turn around for me, please," she told him after making sure he eyed the addition to his humiliating costume.

I relished the scene when Andy turned around. The leotard ran high up his thighs, and the bottom part of his butt cheeks were on display. Andy was quite aware of this, and when he turned around he self-consciously pulled down on the material in an effort to provide as much coverage as possible. Miss Prescott took both of Andy's wrists and pulled them away without a word. To my delight the material immediately sprang back.

Miss Prescott meticulously affixed the bunny tail at the small of Andy's back with a couple of safety pins, while Andy stood there miserably while listening to the tittering behind him. "Perfect!" declared Miss Prescott as she gave the exposed skin of his backside a playful slap. "Easter is coming soon, so you can be our lovely little Easter bunny for the next hour." She turned him back around by the shoulders, then stepped back and looked him up and down. "Oh, Andrew, if only you could see yourself. It's too bad we don't have a mirror in here." She paused, then snapped her index finger in the air as she came up with an idea. She retrieved her phone from her desk, then stepped a few feet in front of Andy and aimed it at him. "Smile, my little bunny," she said while snapping a picture. There wasn't anything close to a smile emerging from Andy, but undeterred, she took another picture. After taking another one from behind she kneeled in front of him and focused the camera at his crotch.

Oh, my!

"Lovely," she said with a chuckle while she took the close-up. The sadistic substitute stood up and tapped her phone a few times. She then held up one of the pictures for Andy. "What do you think, Andrew?" she asked. "Don't you make a lovely bunny?" Andy took a quick glance at the picture before averting his eyes. Miss Prescott swiped at her phone a couple of times and held it up again.

"What do you see here, Andrew?" she said. Andy looked at the picture and winced without responding. "I asked you a question, Andrew," she persisted.

"It's....it's a picture of....of the....the outfit," he said.

"Yes, but you need to be more specific," said Miss Prescott. "It is a close-up of your...." She held out an open palm in a gesture for him to finish the sentence.

"Of my....my front."

"Again, that is too broad. Your 'front' implies your whole front side. This picture is focused on something in particular. What is it?" she asked while continuing to hold out the picture for Andy to regard.

"My.....penis," he reluctantly replied, drawing laughter from his classmates.

"Good!" she praised. "And what else?"

"My....please, I don't know what you...."

"The small roundish protrusion below your penis," she interrupted.

"Oh....my....my testicles," he said shamefacedly. Again he heard the laughter.

"Indeed," answered Miss Prescott. "And what can you tell us about your penis and testicles?"

Oh, my goodness! Had I read her book before that day I would have known that there is nothing relating to humiliation that she was hesitant to employ. Not having read her book, I was appropriately openmouthed.

"I don't....I don't know," said the flustered and thoroughly mortified Andy.

"Tell us about the size. Do you think the size of your penis is normal? Bigger than normal? Smaller?"

"Please, I....I don't know," said Andy, who apparently was not at all interested in characterizing his genitals for us.

"Okay," said Miss Prescott. "If you're not going to cooperate, maybe one of your classmates will." She looked around the room. She knew just whom to call on. "Mia, will you please come up here and help us out?" she asked.

"No! Okay, I can tell you!" exclaimed Andy anxiously.

But he was too late. Mia bolted from her chair and was standing on the opposite side of Miss Prescott (with Andy in the middle) in no time flat. She looked at Andy and grinned, then addressed the teacher. "How can I help, Miss Prescott?" she asked eagerly.

"Well, I asked Mr. Cunningham to describe the size of his penis—as you can see, it's easier to make out in the leotard than it was in his underpanties—but he wasn't very helpful. Maybe you can have a good look at it and enlighten us."

"I'll be happy to!" said Mia, and I had no doubts as to her sincerity. She crouched down to a squat until she was at eye level and just a few inches from her subject matter. "Hmm," she said as she stared at the small bulge in the leotard, pretending to be deep in thought. "There's really not much there," she said, eliciting laughter behind her and a noticeable wince from Andy. She stood up and looked at Miss Prescott. "To be honest," continued Mia, "I've really only seen one penis in my life, so I don't have a lot to compare it to. It was my brother's penis. I can definitely say that his wasn't quite as small as Andy's." She paused and let the giggling die down, then, with a sly grin on her face she looked Andy in the eye and delivered her punch line. "But I haven't seen it since he was eight."

This brought the proverbial house down. Mia, quite proud of herself, stepped aside and faced her classmates, grinning all the while. Andy had turned yet another shade of red, and he stood there squirming awkwardly.

"Thank you, Mia," said the chuckling Miss Prescott. "Would you like to comment on what you see below his little penis?"

"You mean these little things right here?" said Mia while reaching out and tickling his balls with her fingers.

"AAGGH!" said Andy as he flinched and momentarily surged to his tiptoes.

"They're like little cherries," laughed Mia.

"Thank you," said the grinning teacher. "You can return to your seat now."

While Mia waltzed back to her seat, Miss Prescott again addressed her wretched victim. "Now, Mr. Cunningham, let me ask you again. What can you tell us about your penis?" Andy opened his mouth, but nothing came out. "Shall I have Andrea come up here and help us out?" she asked.

"No! It's.....it's small."

"What is small?"

"My penis," he said softly.

"It is, indeed!" bellowed Miss Prescott. "It's such a cute little thing. I think we should name it, don't you?"

"Please, I....that's not necessary," replied Andy boldly.

"Oh, but it's special. I think it deserves a name," persisted Miss Prescott. She stared at the outline of Andy's penis for a few seconds, then said, "I've got it! Let's name it 'Little Andy'."

There was resounding laughter throughout the room. When it died down, Miss Prescott said, "From now on when we refer to your penis we will call it 'Little Andy.' Shall we?" Andy nodded his head in resignation. "Good. Now let me hear you say it. What is your penis's name?"

"L-Little Andy," he said while staring at the floor in front of him.

"Good, Andrew. Class, what is this called....?" she asked while pointing directly at Andy's penis with one hand and holding out an open palm toward us with the other.

"LITTLE ANDY!" we said in unison, much louder than was necessary and with considerable merriment.

To this day I don't know how my brother withstood the excruciating humiliation. And with three hours left in the school day I knew there would be plenty more to come, as it had become quite apparent that Miss Prescott's fancy for doling out humiliation had no bounds.

I look forward to telling you more about My Favorite Day Ever when I get a chance.