Blondie's Humiliation Stories

For Age 18+ Only.
Lease this WebApp and get rid of the ads.
Chapter 7: Paraded Naked
Thu Apr 25, 2013 4:50pm

Fire Drill

“Okay, Blondie, you can get back in Rhonda’s car,” offers Tammy. “Time to go home. And if you do whatever Rhonda and Gail tell you the rest of the way then we’ll give you back your clothes.” I climb in the back seat of the car, with a glimmer of hope but with a certain amount of trepidation as to what was meant by “do whatever Rhonda and Gail tell you.” Rhonda and Gail climb in and immediately close the top to the car, as it is a cold day. Tammy, Donna, Bruce and the rest of the group pile into the station wagon and follow directly behind us. Again I’m sitting naked in a car cruising through town. Gail, grinning, turns around and faces me.

“Do you know how to do a fire drill from a car, Blondie?” she asks. I have no idea what it is but I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.

“No,” I answer apprehensively.

“Well, let me explain it to you, sweetie. The way it works is when the car comes to a stop somebody yells out 'Fire Drill!’ Then somebody, and in this case I think it should be you, has to jump out of the car and do a full 360 around the car and jump back in. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” I don’t answer as I nervously survey the busy street. Gail continues. “Tell you what we’re going to do, Blondie. When you hear me yell ‘Fire Drill!’ I want you to try it. Just get out, close the door, and make a run for it. Your friends will be right behind us, so you might as well circle around their car, too. And no covering up your little wee wee. Keep your hands clasped behind your head the whole time. And you’d better do it just like I said, or you’re gonna come back and find the door locked. I don’t think you’d like that very much, would you, Blondie?” Again I don’t answer as I sit there, frightened at the prospect of a nude jaunt on a busy street. “Answer me when I speak to you, Blondie.”

“No, I wouldn’t like that,” I answer forlornly.

We continue to drive up the busiest boulevard in town. I sit there in complete dread of every stop. Then we come to a stop at a red light. I hear the fateful words from Gail’s mouth. “Fire Drill!”

In a panic, I open the door, get out and remember to close it and put my hands behind my head. Once again, I’m naked in public, and it’s no easier to take than any of the other times. “Oh, God,” I say to myself as I start to run around the front of the car. I feel my genitals bobbing about as I run, and I know they must generate an amusing effect. Rhonda honks her horn and I look inside to see her and Gail laughing hysterically. There are at least a dozen cars stopped at the light, and I hear the horns of several of them. I run by the car behind me and see Bruce and the rest in a fit of laughter. I continue to run around the car, frantically trying to reach my destination. Finally, I get back to Gail’s car, open the door and jump in. My face is burning and I chance a look to my right and notice two young ladies staring at me from their car, both laughing uproariously. I quickly avert my glance and slink down in my seat. Gail, still laughing, reaches back and pats me on my thighs.

“Good boy, Blondie, you were great!” she exclaimed. “We might just have to do that again.”

The High School

We continue driving. Rhonda then takes a right turn. To my apprehension we are nearing the local high school. The school is in a different district than ours, and they are in session even though it is Easter break for us. “Check it out,” said Rhonda, “It looks like they’re just coming out.” Rhonda is quite right. It’s very active in front of the school as a large amount of students are making their way out, scattering in all directions. A rush of terror comes over me as I can only imagine what dreadful humiliations lie in store for me. Rhonda slows down to about five miles per hour and rolls along, as I sit there in a severe state of anxiety.

Suddenly, right there in the middle of the street Rhonda comes to a halt and yells, “Fire Drill!” Rhonda and Gail both are looking at me expectantly but I can’t muster up the courage to get out. “You better get your little ass out there right now, Blondie, or we’re dumping you out and taking off!” warned Rhonda.

On the verge of tears, I get out and do the drill. Both Rhonda and Tammy honk their horns, bringing full attention to me. Obediently I have my hands behind my head and make the turn around the front of Rhonda’s car. I hear somebody yell out, “Hey look, the kid’s naked!” and I hear considerable laughing and carrying on. I run down the side of Rhonda’s car and then the station wagon. I make the turn around the back of the station wagon and I see Bruce’s laughing face sticking out of the back window. As I pass him I feel his hand grab my ass. When I reach Rhonda’s car again and push on the doorknob, to my horror I discover that it is locked! I frantically push on it again and again, to no avail. Now the entertained students have multiplied, as word has spread about my predicament. I bang on Gail’s window, begging for mercy, but my appeals are answered only by laughter as Gail alternates her glances from my burning face, to my hairless genitals, and to the gathering crowd in front of the school. Then, to my terror, the car starts moving. I have no choice but to start running along to keep up.

By now I’ve given up keeping my hands behind my head, as I keep trotting along trying the door, yelling frantically, “Please, open the door! Let me in! Please!” Rhonda then speeds up and I can’t keep up with their car. The station wagon is now at my side. I keep running along with them down the long block in front of the high school. Bruce’s window is open, but when I try the door it is also locked. I plead with Bruce and scream, “Bruce, let me in! Please! Let me in!” Instead the station wagon speeds up. Now fearful that they are going to drive away and leave me stranded, I run as fast as I can and hop on the hood of the car. What an amusing spectacle I must be as I am on my knees on the hood, holding onto the windshield wipers for support. I can see everyone in the car laughing uncontrollably and the boisterous laughter from the gathered throng along the sidewalk adds considerably to my suffering. I see Donna snap another picture from her front row seat. I can’t imagine feeling more humiliated than I am at this moment.

When the station wagon reaches the end of the block Tammy makes a U-turn, following suit with Rhonda in front of her. Again we cruise down the block, now at a much slower speed. I hear Bruce yelling out of his window. “Stand up, Blondie!” I pretend I don’t hear him. “I said ‘stand up,’ Blondie, and put your hands behind your head. You better do it, or else!”

I don’t want to think about what “or else” could entail, nor do I want to find out. I do what I have to do and stand up on the hood with my hands behind my head. The laughter from the sidewalk is boisterous, and my humiliation has reached yet another level. The car is rolling along at a gradual, parade-like pace. For the most part my eyes are squeezed shut, but I can’t help the occasional glimpse at the thoroughly amused onlookers. I notice that about twenty guys in football uniforms, who happened across my plight on the way to practice, are nearly falling over themselves in their state of hysterical laughter. Several of the cheerleaders are nearby in a similar state of merriment. Again I press my eyes shut as I continue to be paraded down the street. It seems like the shameful exhibition will go on forever as I stand there feeling insufferable mortification as the station wagon continues creeping along.

At last we reach the end of the block. I open my eyes when I feel the car making another U-turn. “Oh, God, no, not again!” I actually say out loud.

But then I hear Bruce yelling, “Come on, Blondie, hop in.” Grateful, I jump down and run over to Bruce’s door. But the door is still locked. The window is down all the way and Bruce reaches out and grabs me by my armpits. “Just come in through the window, Blondie.”

I try to jump in the window, but Bruce stops me when I’m halfway in and holds me there by wrapping his arm around my neck. My midsection is on the windowsill and my ass and legs are dangling outside the window. I feel the car again make the drive up the street, very slowly. I’m kicking my legs furiously, fighting to climb the rest of the way into the car, but Bruce has a good grip on me and I’m stuck in the shameful position. I hear the laughter, both from inside the car and out as I envision what it must look like to the observers on the outside. I finally give up kicking my legs and prop my knees against the side of the door, affording the spectators another comical view.

When we reach the end of the block, Bruce pulls me the rest of the way into the car. He lets go, and I sit up, still on Bruce’s lap. Rhonda’s friend Jill has joined the group and there is no room for me to sit. I try to move off Bruce’s lap but he holds me there, putting both arms around me and resting his hands on my knees. Everyone is teary-eyed from their protracted laughter. They all look at me, still laughing at the mind-boggling scene they have witnessed. My face is as red as it could possibly be.

“Oh, Smoothie,” says Donna when the laughter subsides, “That was believable. Wait ‘till you see some of these pictures. You’ll just die!”

I have no doubt that she is right.

  • Chapter 6: Naked Ordeal in the City ParkBlondie., Thu Apr 25 4:49pm
    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... more
    • Chapter 7: Paraded Naked — Blondie., Thu Apr 25 4:50pm
      • Chapter 8: Forced OrgasmBlondie., Thu Apr 25 4:51pm
        Bruce’s Overture As Tammy drives us home, the joviality continues. Everyone is recounting the events that just took place. It seems everyone has their own favorite scene, and each would describe it... more
        • EpilogueBlondie., Thu Apr 25 4:51pm
          For the rest of the Easter break I stay within the confines of my room, trying to mentally recover from the devastating ordeal I have experienced. I feel a little better as each day passes, although... more
Click here to receive daily updates
You won't be getting your clothes back until you dance naked for us.