Looks like he's gone mad with power. Not good news for Vicky!

Getting in Trouble, Saturday morning (continued)

“What?” you ask, completely at a loss for what to do. Patrick grabs your right arm and twists it painfully behind your back. You throw your left arm out to keep your balance and without your hands to hold the large shorts up, they fall to your ankles.

Your panties, of course, are soaked through and fully on display as Patrick forces you to bend backward. The boys are laughing harder now, delighting in your obvious embarrassment. You, on the other hand, are mortified. What the fuck is going on here?

Patrick releases your arms, and you reach down to pull his shorts up your legs. “Don’t you dare,” he says menacingly. “Stand there in the mess you’ve made.”

You’ve never felt the kind of fear that settles over your heart, and your fight-or-flight reflex roots you to the spot. You straighten up, waiting unsteadily for whatever is coming next.

“Vicky?” Patrick asks.

“Yes…. Sir?” you reply.

“Did you ask permission to take my clothing?”

“Permission… Sir? No, I… I just didn’t have anything else to wear.”

“So you thought you’d steal my clothes rather than face a little embarrassment?”

“I-” You cast your eyes to the ground. “Yes, Sir.”

“And now, not only have you stolen my clothes, but you’ve ruined them with your disgusting filth. Isn’t that right?”

You hardly think this is fair. How can he blame you for this situation? Who left your bag at the school? Who left you in an empty tent with no other clothing? Who didn’t let you pee when you clearly had to go?

As you consider the same answer to all of those questions, a dreadful realization starts to form in your mind. And as your experiences in sub space online come rushing into your mind, you find that you know what you're supposed to do.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I spoiled your clothes, Sir. I’m very sorry.”

“You should be. You’re disgusting.” Patrick pauses for a moment; the other boys remain silent. “And this morning, did you or did you not masturbate?”

You snap out of your subservience at the mention of your private pleasure. “What?!” you shout. You can’t believe he said that in front of these former students. Had he been watching you? How could he bring this up?

Smack. Patrick hits you hard on the back of your thigh, causing your leg to jerk forward, and you almost fall over.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you plead desperately. “I’m sorry. Yes. I masturbated, Sir.”

“Masturbation is a sin, Vicky.”

“Yes, Sir. I know, Sir. I’m very sorry.”

Before Patrick can reply, Thomas raises his hand. Just like he’s in a class at school. The fat theater kid asks politely, “Sir, what does ‘masturbate’ mean?”

A thin smile stretches across Patrick’s face. “This wasn’t covered in your health class?”

“No, sir,” Thomas says innocently. “At least, nothing specific. All they said was that masturbation was wrong. But I still don’t know what it is, sir, so how could I avoid it?”

Judging by the filthy jokes Thomas was telling all day yesterday, you’re certain he’s lying through his teeth. But why would he lie about this? you wonder to yourself.

“That’s a very good point, son,” Patrick says. “You should know what masturbation is.”

Where is this going?