Sk1sch

(Mature themes of wedgies, humiliation, and sex. All characters are 18+) Your arms strain as you get in that final lift. It’s that burn you know so well. The raging inferno from your biceps all the way to your core as you force the metal bar up one final time.  Your back arches as sweat pours down your brow. Your body wants nothing more than to give in and let gravity take over. But you can’t allow that. You muster every ounce of strength you have left and push until the silver rod rises up high and your arms snap straight. You carefully lower it back in the rack before taking a massive sigh of relief.  It takes a few minutes of deep breaths before your brain is at a semi-functional level. When you finally sit up from the padded bench you’re pleasantly surprised to find two total hotties looking back at you.  Each woman has to easily clear 6 feet, and every last inch is coated in muscles. Their biceps are more comparable to boulders than limbs, and their thighs look ready to shred

The warm morning breeze brushed through Izzy’s orange hair as she awoke, the window of her room slightly ajar and being pierced by the sweet warm glow of the rising sun. It was summertime in Yankerup and it was set to be a hot and humid day. Izzy slept in only her light pink cotton panties adorned with little illustrations of teddy bears, a thin hot pink waistband and a pink ribbon bow at the front. It had previously been a hot night so her sheets were kicked around and her panties were garnished with a serviceable amount of butt sweat. Izzy yawned and picked at her panties, removing the naturally forming wedgie from the crevice between her bubbly buttcheeks. “Mmh, that’s better…” she muttered to herself, “…guess I better get up, I’ve gotta go catch up with Lizzy, I think she wanted to go to the bookstore today.” Izzy grabbed her phone from atop her bedside dresser and sent a message reading, “Meet at Greentop Park in an hr?” She was met with an almost instantaneous reply of “Okiii!”

(Mature themes of femboys, wedgies, humiliation, spanking, and sex. All characters are 18+) The two look at the message with delight. Get to the women’s locker room pronto!  Sally and Bon had met each other at the start of their sophomore year. They’d both been pressed up hard against the wall, made to assume the position. The bullies hadn’t caught on, but each of them knew the look the other had. The hidden feeling of enjoyment at getting their nerdy asses flossed.  Since then they’d become the best of friends. Planning out dorky outfits and working out ways to class that crossed paths with the most bullies. They loved shopping for panties together and discussing which style was the most embarrassing for wedgies.  It was about halfway through the year the two met Shades and Jackie. The two most popular girls on campus had stopped to obliterate their dweeby asses, and Bon was receiving a particularly devastating squeaky clean, when she let out a large moan. It was obviously not

(Mature themes of wedgies, humiliation, and sex. All characters are 18+) “You know you didn’t have to hiccup do all this Kero!” The spoiled oni-girl shouts a bit too loud for the upscale restaurant. Normally Maki’s a bit more reserved with her praise, and her volume. Tonight, however, the two glasses of wine seem to have loosened her up. The flush in her cheeks makes it clear how poorly she’s handling the liquor.  “Ya, Kero this is way too much.” Bon leaves a red stain on the tip of her wine glass as she sets it down. Kero waves off the group's protests with a shift of his hand. “Oh please, it’s nothing. I just like getting together with my friends.” The all-star level golfer, Grace Madison, shifts a bit in her seat until she’s inches from Kero’s ear. Her hand moves up his inner thigh as she whispers “Are you sure there isn’t anything we could do to repay you.” A smirk grows on Kero’s face as he looks around at the seven people circled round the table. “Well, maybe I can think of

With every step, fabric sinks deeper into your rear. A stripe of red runs out your shorts, up your back, and under your tank top. It’s your panties, hooked to your bra in a permanent wedgie. You’re not sure how many people notice. A lot of extra glances are going your way, but Hilly, the girl next to you, is certainly enough to draw attention on her own. She’s sporting a tight black dress with white frills and a skirt hardly long enough to escape a public indecency charge. How did it get so far? It was some months ago you first met Hilly, hiring her to replace your previous housekeeper, Margo. On her first day, she was given Margo’s old uniform, which didn’t fit well at all. A far more shapely woman than Margo, it clung to her chest in a very immodest way. You told her she could work out of uniform, and, after proving herself suitable for the role, a properly tailored one would be ordered. Instead, she offered to fix it herself. When she showed up the next day, it was clear the

"Okay, piggy! You know the drill. Hand over your lunch money!" Tim was in his usual position: kneeling in the corner of the girl's bathroom. He was holding two 20 dollar bills above his head, keeping his eyes lowered in submission, focusing on the tips of his knees. Tim flinched as he felt the cash being yanked out of his fingertips. He was dripping with sweat, and he could see the backs of his knuckles on his tight hand were quivering as his palm rested on his leg. "Don't you have anything else for me, piggy?" A bolt of terror shot through Tim's chest. He tentatively raised his eyes, and flinched a second time as his gaze fell upon Amy Winchester, his chief tormentor. She was scowling down at him, her perfect, sparkling pink lips were contorted in a thick pout. Her golden blonde hair rippled, simmering above her leans shoulders in thick waves of repressed rage. She wasn't wearing her cheerleader uniform today. Instead, she was wearing a pair of denim shorts with a white crop top

Marissa checked her watch as she hurried down the pediatric ward hallway. Only three hours left in her shift, and she'd managed to avoid Janet from Orthopedics and her daily "panty check" ritual. Besides her run in with Lindsey earlier, maybe today would finally break her losing streak. "Room 4B needs a consultation," the receptionist called out, sliding a chart across the desk. "Mother and daughter. Something about a rash." Marissa nodded, grabbing the chart and straightening her lavender scrubs. She'd special-ordered this set with extra room in the back, but they still hugged her curves like they were magnetized. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door to exam room 4B. "Hello, I'm Nurse Marissa. What brings you in today?" A severe-looking woman in her forties sat primly on a chair while her daughter, a lanky teenager with a remarkably similar build, perched uncomfortably on the exam table. "My daughter needs cream for her bottom," the mother announced without preamble. "The

This story contains mature themes of wedgies, humiliation, facesitting, and sexual acts. The shame is all encompassing as I watch. The eight girls in the room are absolutely astounding. All in states of undress.  I see tight asses, skimpy thongs. Perky breasts and form-fitting sexy sports bras. There are sweaty lycra shorts, and drenched yoga pants. Water droplets drip off the woman’s skin as they change in the room.  I, unfortunately, have to enjoy the view silently. This is because I am currently hiding in a locker.  I swear I was just cleaning the locker room like I was supposed to! It was the middle of yoga class so I knew the locker room would be empty.  I came inside to vacuum, clean up the bathroom, etc.  I finished in record time and was going to leave when I saw one of the girls had left her gym bag open next to her locker.  I went to put it in the locker, but when I did, a lacy thong fell out. Whoever’s bag this was must have changed into a different pair for class

Tim didn't struggle as he was grabbed by the shoulders and dragged into the girl's bathroom. He didn't even cry out when he was shoved onto the damp floor and ordered to get onto his knees. Tim obeyed, keeping his eyes lowered, trying to stop his bottom lip from wobbling too much. Even after all the months of constant bullying, the humiliation never got any easier. "Okay, piggy, let's see how much you've got today!" Tim sighed. He reached into his pocket and, wordlessly, pulled out his tattered brown wallet. He held it out, and it was quickly snatched away by a tanned and manicured hand. There was a faint rustle as Tim's lunch money was counted... Please, please...don't let her notice... "What the fuck!? You're five bucks short!" Shit... It was only at this point that Tim dared to raise his eyes. He found himself staring up at the looming figure of Amy Winchester, one of the most popular bullies at Richmore High; a woman who, three months ago, had turned Tim's life into a living

"Okay piggy!" Amy Winchester jeered, her eyes narrowing to a pair of sparkling blue slits, bursting with cruel glee. "Open wide! It's time to drink up!" Tim made a sound that was something between a sob and a groan. He was (once again) on his hands and knees in the girl's bathroom. He had (once again) been stripped to his tighty whities by Amy and her cronies. His butt was (once again) being torn open by a brutal wedgie. Amy gave his already stretched tighty whities another viscous haul, effortlessly lifting his huge, pale butt into the air. Tim wheezed, as his balls were abruptly squeezed from the force of the wedgie. "Come on, piggy! Don't be so lame! I even went to the trouble of getting a special bowel prepared for you!" Amy's strong biceps twitched as she yanked on Tim's tighty whities, sending a spasm of pain surging through his buttcrack. Tim squirmed and crawled forwards, letting Amy guide him like a dog, in the direction of the open stall. A large, white porcelain toilet