Streak of Shame (Patreon)

The warm water ran over you. Despite your dislike of showering at school, the lack of anyone else in the locker room made it somewhat peaceful for a change. Weird how no one was in there, but it was an unusual time of day; after classes when all the clubs and teams were meeting or practicing.  

...Until a chorus of piercing screams erupted from behind you. Startled, you turn to see the entire girls' basketball team staring at you, mouths agape. 

"There's a boy in the girls' showers!!" screamed Emily, the team captain. Despite the warmth of the shower, your blood ran cold. Oh shit. How the hell did you go into the girls' showers by mistake?!

"Get him, girls!" Emily shouted, pointing at you. "Throw this perv out of here!" On her command, two of the larger, stronger members of the team grabbed your arms and shoulders, and even though you were wet and slippery, firmly grabbed you and dragged you to the room's entrance while the rest of the team shouted and laughed.

"No wonder you gotta perv on us, you've got such a little cock there's no way you can get laid!" Shouted someone.

The strong girls pushed you back out into the gym and slammed the door behind you. You scramble to try and get back in, but they had either locked or barricaded the door. 

Crap. You started doing the math in your head; you were dripping wet and naked and locked out of the room where your clothes were… How could you either get back in or find some pants to put on? Think think think...

...It was then that an explosion of giggles sounded off behind you. Once again, you turned to see the source, and found the entire cheerleading squad pointing, laughing, and waving their pinky fingers. 

"Little cock alert!" barked Jessica, the head cheerleader. You dove your hands between your legs amid the shrieking laughter of the school's queen bees. 

Amid the adrenaline of sheer humiliation overwhelming you, desperation set in. You frantically searched your surroundings for an exit. The way you came was a no-go. The door to the hallway was on the other side of the gym; you'd have to run through the middle of the cheerleaders to make it there. Plus, other people would probably be wandering the halls, so that wasn't an option either. Finally, you take off bolting to the one path still available to you: The door to outside the gym.

You push the door open reflexively, which involved taking your hands off your junk. As the door slammed shut behind you, the laughter was finally silenced. Relieved, you turn to find another entrance into the building. 

...Only for another round of laughter to resume.

Standing before you were the dark-jacketed, dark-makeup, vibrant-haired sirens of the punk girl clique, each with a cigarette in hand as their mouths were preoccupied with emitting deep, throaty, smoker-voice laughs. Fuck. You forgot the punk chicks liked to hang out behind the gym and smoke after school.

One of them ran a hand through her bright green hair with a smirk. "Hey, put that thing away!" She pointed, causing you to reflexively cover your package again. 

"He probably heard we like to put little skinny white things in our mouths!" Her pink-haired friend waved her cigarette in the air.

Scrambling as frantically as you could, you turned on your heel (which hurt quite a bit, as it was your bare foot on the hot pavement) and darted around the opposite side of the building. "Nice bubble butt, shrimp!" One of the punk girls called out as you fled, causing the others to laugh yet again. 

Once around the corner and finally, out of sight, you stop to catch your breath. You still had no clue how the hell you were gonna get inside and actually get some pants on… 

You stop and put your hand to your forehead to wipe away sweat and push your hair out of your face. You turned around to assess your surroundings better, and, of course, realized you were standing directly in front of the window to the math classroom. Staring out of it was a trio of mathlete girls. They stared, but strangely, weren't laughing. Instead, the three of them seemed to be discussing something amongst themselves. After a moment of this, one of them opened the window. 

"Excuse me..." She asked in a nerdy, nasally voice. "Could you give us the exact measurement of your penis? My colleagues and I were, erm, discussing whether or not it meets the clinical definition of a micropenis." 

It was at this point that you realized you'd once again uncovered yourself and reapplied your hands to your crotch. Man, constantly covering your junk was a lot of work.   

"It's defined as two point five standard deviations below the mean penis size of a given population." One of the other nerds chimed in. "Regardless, you must find that it has an enormous psychological impact on your masculinity, right? I'd love to interview you for the psychology journal I'm submitting to!" Instead of answering, you just took off running again. 

What options were left at this point?!

You turn back the way you came, only to be knocked to the ground by a side door of the school opening suddenly in your face. As you tumble to the ground, the door shuts to reveal the Principal herself, standing over you, arms folded under her massive bust, looking down on you with narrow eyes over her glasses. 

"I had heard we had a streaker." She accuses you as you struggle to stand. "You perverted boys are always trying to put on a show, but you could at LEAST have the decency to show something worth showing!" She raised a pinky, a grin across her lips. 

"Nevertheless this behavior cannot be tolerated." She wrapped a hand around your defenseless package. "You're looking at WEEKS of detention for this." She barked, but you barely heard her. You were too preoccupied with how her soft, warm fingers felt around your cock. Against your will, you discharge a load into her hand as humiliation and pleasure create an overwhelming cocktail of hormones in your body. 

"Augh!" She recoils, trying to shake your jizz off her hand. "Bad news, that just DOUBLED your sentence!"