Blondie's Humiliation Stories

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Chapter 6: Naked Ordeal in the City Park
Thu Apr 25, 2013 4:49pm
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Chained to the Car

Gail looks back at me, still laughing wildly. We follow the group in front of us and pull into a parking space at the curb of the city park. Everyone piles out of the two cars and Gail says, “You’re welcome to come join us, Blondie.” I shake my head, relieved that I was given a choice. She tosses me a hamburger and says, “Okay, suit yourself. But we need to make sure you don’t try to run away from us.” She then reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out two straps that are connected by a short chain. To my dismay she ties one strap to my ankle and the other to a bar at the bottom of the windshield. I’m now sitting in the passenger seat with one leg stretched out across the top of the dashboard. “Don’t you dare take this strap off, Blondie, or you’ll have to come out there and eat with us,” warns Gail. “Now sit up straight and keep your hands away from your little weenie.”

She and Rhonda laugh and join the rest of the group at the park benches about fifteen yards away. They all line up facing me while they devour their lunch. They’re laughing joyfully as they joke around while they stare at me in between bites. It’s a chilly day, so the park isn’t very crowded. There are two guys and a girl playing Frisbee, and occasionally a pedestrian passes by. I cringe each time, but fortunately no one notices me, as the windows are tinted just enough so that I don’t stand out. I feel relatively safe—as safe as one could possibly feel while sitting naked against his will in a car at a city park.


Visitors

At one point Rhonda makes a call on her cell phone. I don’t know it, but she’s calling one of her friends and telling her about my situation. Within minutes four girls walk by and to my dismay they stop in front of the car to chitchat. “Why the hell do they have to stop here?” I think to myself. I’m under the impression that they’re total strangers, but in actuality they’re all friends of Rhonda. They continue to stand around, but they haven’t looked in my direction. I’m squirming in my seat, praying for them to continue on their way. Then I see Rhonda reaching for her keys. But she’s not coming. Instead she pushes a button on her key chain. I hear a rumbling noise from within the car. To my utter horror, the top is opening! I wasn’t even aware that I was in a convertible until now. I’m in an absolute state of panic as I realize that not only will I be in the open air, but also that my ankle is chained to the bar of the slowly rising top. My leg is lifting up in the air and the rest of my body is going with it. Of course, the four “strangers” notice the distraction and they are agape at the astonishing sight. I desperately try to untie the strap but realize there is no time for that. As the top climbs higher I’m almost upside down, frantically pushing buttons on the dash to try to reverse this most distressing turn of events. But the only result I get is the windshield wiper spray shooting from under the hood and spraying me, hitting me squarely in the balls. I hear the unbridled laughter as the top continues its inexorable climb. At one point I’m completely upside down, waving my arms wildly. There is hysterical laughter now. The top lowers down to the back of the car, and I come to rest lying on my back with my leg up on the back of the seat. I jump up and manage to free my ankle from the manacle, then I turn around and sit in the back seat with my hands over my crotch. I feel like I’m red from head to toe.

After the laughter subsides, the four friends of Rhonda make their way towards me. They surround me, two on each side of the car. I’m shaking as a beautiful girl looks me up and down and says, “Well, well, what do we have here? What have you done with your clothes, little boy?”

All I can muster up is, “Please, just leave me alone,” as I avoid eye contact.

“Well, you’re not being very friendly, are you?” she replies. To my disbelief she opens the car door and plops down right next to me. I look up to Rhonda, hoping she’ll come get this stranger out of her car. But she and her cohorts are laughing heartily as they take in the scene. On top of that, the three Frisbee players have become aware of my plight and have moved their game noticeably closer to the car, gazing in my direction while pretending to be interested in the Frisbee. They are wide-eyed at what they are witnessing. I’m feeling more naked by the second as the girl puts her arm around me and says, “Hi, my name’s Jill, what’s yours?”

I’m horrified, and I wriggle free from her advance. Again I plead. “Please, just go away, I’m begging you!”

She puts her hand on my thigh. “Now this is no way to treat someone who’s trying to be your friend, is it?” responds Jill. “And you’re being much too modest here. My friends here would like to see what you’re hiding under your hands.” She grabs one of my wrists and tries to pull it away. I tighten my grip and bend over at the waist. There is laughter all around. “Boy, there must be something REALLY special under there, the way you’re being so protective.” Funny, even after my experience at the restaurant drive-through I still am completely humiliated to be naked. I just can’t bear to expose my little package to another stranger.


Naked Frisbee

At this point all of my antagonists, having finished their lunch, come over to the car. The Frisbee players have abandoned the ruse of acting interested in Frisbee and have joined the group. There are now fourteen people (six guys and eight girls) crowded around the car staring at me sitting naked next to a beautiful, smiling girl. I just can’t believe what is happening. Tammy is the first to speak. “Blondie, what exactly is going on here?” she inquires. One of Rhonda's friends responds.

“We’re all wondering what your little friend here—I guess his name is Blondie” (she giggles)…“We’re just dying to see what he’s hiding underneath his hands. Jill asked him very politely to show us, but he’s not being very friendly.”

Amid the giggling from the spectators, Tammy pulls out her cell phone and holds it up for me to see. “Blondie, do you want these pictures to go out to everyone at school?” I shake my head disconsolately. “Well then you’d better start behaving like a good boy.” Tammy points to the ground by her feet. “Now you get your naked little butt out here right now.” She opens the car door. Everyone, especially the newcomers, soak up the scene with relish. I hesitate, look at Tammy's cell phone and bow my head as I make my way out of the car, still with my hands over my crotch. My face feels like it’s on fire. Bruce is the next to speak. He looks at the guy holding the Frisbee.

“You mind if I borrow that thing?” he asks. The guy hands the Frisbee to Bruce with a grin. Bruce throws it across the park lawn about fifty yards away and says to me, “Okay, Blondie, here’s what I want you to do. Run as fast as you can and fetch the Frisbee for us. When you pick it up, I want you to hold it as high above your head as you can, with both hands. Then I want you to walk, not run, and bring it back to us. And don’t lower your hands until I say you can or we’ll do it all over again.” There is hooting and hollering abound. I stand there dumbstruck. Bruce yells, “What are you waiting for, go get it!” as he slaps my bare ass with a hard swat that stings considerably, awakening me from my stupor.

I take off as fast as I can towards the Frisbee. I hear the hilarity from behind, and I’m sure I’m a very amusing sight to behold. I reach down and pick up the Frisbee. I hesitate, close my eyes for a second and grasp the Frisbee with both hands, lifting it high above my head. I feel extremely exposed. I walk as fast as I can without running, and my mortification increases with each step as I grow closer and closer to the hysterically laughing herd next to the car. I can almost feel my crotch burning, as fifteen pairs of eyes seem focused on it. I reach the thoroughly entertained group and stop, still holding the Frisbee high. My feeling of naked exposure is excruciating.


A Ticklish Situation

“Thank you, Blondie, you were wonderful,” laughs Bruce. “Now don’t move, I’ve got an idea you might like, since you may be able to get your clothes back. Here’s the deal: We’re going to find out just how ticklish you are. You keep holding the Frisbee up as high as you can. I get to tease and tickle you to see if I can make you drop your arms. If you can keep your arms up for, let’s say, five minutes, then we’ll return your clothes and you can go home. If you can’t…well, let’s just say you’ll be providing us some more naked entertainment for the better part of the afternoon.” I cringe, knowing that my chances of lasting five minutes under Bruce’s tickling assault is highly improbable. Plus, it means remaining in this exposed position before the grinning faces of my tormentors. But I figure it’s certainly worth a try—not that I really have any choice. “Okay, you have five minutes, starting right now.”

Everyone watches with anticipation as the satanic Bruce begins by stepping behind me (thus leaving me fully exposed to the captive audience) and, using a soft touch with his fingertips, slowly strokes my sides. I squirm, both from the tickling sensation and the disgust from being touched by this monster. He continues his soft strokes from behind, first encircling my nipples, then moving downwards to my taut stomach. I feel myself weakening and I writhe my hips, much to the enjoyment of the onlookers. Then, to my revulsion I feel his fingers stroking my ass, then the insides of my thighs. When he reaches under and starts tickling my balls I flinch noticeably, rising to my tiptoes while gritting my teeth and clenching my eyes tightly shut. To my horror, I feel myself becoming slightly aroused. I hear the hearty laughter.

"Is Blondie getting a little woody?" laughs Donna.

Under the circumstances I do not get a full erection, but there is just enough movement to add to my considerable shame. Somehow I manage to continue holding the Frisbee high in the air with both hands. Bruce puts his mouth to my ear. “You’re halfway home, Blondie,” he informs me. But his attack becomes more aggressive. While his left hand continues caressing my balls, his right hand rises to my side and his index finger digs into my ribcage and wiggles back and forth. I contract my hips and writhe my torso vigorously. The laughter is getting louder and I’m on the verge of breaking down. Now both of his hands slowly creep up my sides and he softly teases my armpits. I’m really squirming now, barely holding on. He continues this line of attack for some time while I wriggle and twist about, struggling with all my might to maintain my posture. The spectators are whooping it up, enjoying themselves immensely. “Just thirty more seconds, Blondie.” For the first time since being stripped naked that morning I’m holding out hope that my ordeal might be over

But I should have known better. With only ten seconds to go Bruce uses both hands to dig into my sides. Using all his fingers he tickles my ribcage, then my armpits, with authority. I am no match for the onslaught and pull away while tucking my elbows into my sides. I am crestfallen.

“Oh, bummer, Blondie,” says Bruce. “Looks like you’ll be our naked pet for the rest of the day.” With that he returns the Frisbee to its owner, reaches around me and clenches my ass with both hands while planting a big wet kiss squarely on my lips. Everyone laughs uproariously as I turn yet a deeper shade of red.

  • Chapter 5: Public Nudity at the Drive-ThroughBlondie., Thu Apr 25 4:48pm
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    • Chapter 6: Naked Ordeal in the City Park — Blondie., Thu Apr 25 4:49pm
      • Chapter 7: Paraded NakedBlondie., Thu Apr 25 4:50pm
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You won't be getting your clothes back until you dance naked for us.