Charlotte.

Snaking her way right over against and grabbing your squirming, thong-clad body by the waist was Charlotte, a slight, bespectacled redhead wearing a white t-shirt and ankle length skirt, who one might assume wasn't someone to worry about, you however, didn't make such a mistake of an assumption.

The chess club captain had a well earned reputation as a boy-crazed pervert, having snuck into the boy's locker room and taken pictures of them showering more than three times this semester alone, as well as sometimes stripping a guy naked just because he dropped his guard and she felt like it, and she was far too intelligent to have ever gotten into trouble for any of this.

That was the Charlotte who already had you in her grasp, and your blushing and struggling wasn't about to save you.

She snaps the waistband of your tiny underwear with a crack against your hip, and twists you around so your taut buttcheeks are on full display to the surrounding girls; she shouts to the hysterical crowd, "You better get your cameras out ladies! Because if you assumed that this was all of this scintillating hottie you'd devour with your eyes today, I'm here to prove you unequivocally wrong!"

Still playing with the obscene garment, and making sure to grab a handful of your ass, the redheaded pervert concludes her address at speaking volume,"Now, if my pugnacious and curvaceous colleague: Dana—the ruffian who made this all possible—would help me finish the job."

At the call of honor, your crush Dana walks right up beside the two of you, looking you dead in the eyes, and she raises both corners of her black-lipstick stained mouth in a wicked smile, while chuckling joyfully, aiding Charlotte in turning you back to face the wall of laughing young women; holding you still as your threadbare thong finally gives out.

Your hairless penis springs out in plain view of all the screaming girls, and their catcalling and laughter turns your face a burning scarlet, with you unable to even budge your arms in an attempt to cover up. But your devious tormentors have more humiliation in store for you.

They break out a pair of handcuffs and try to decide whose embarrassing plan for you is done first.

"I'm thinking cheer practice."

"Well, I intend for the girl's locker room."