The ride home

Sam pedaled furiously, his body tense, his eyes darting to every girl he passed.

He wasn’t naked anymore—thank god—but that didn’t mean he felt safe. His t-shirt and underwear were a thin barrier between him and total humiliation, and every time he saw a girl, his stomach clenched.

Had she seen him?

Was she at the school?

Was she one of the girls filming?

A group of cheerleaders on the sidewalk? His legs pedaled faster.

A tall, fit girl walking her dog? His hands tightened on the handlebars.

Lisa, outside the convenience store, checking her phone? His breath caught in his throat.

But… nothing. No knowing smirks. No teasing whispers. No gasps of recognition.

They don’t know, he told himself. They don’t know it was me.

Finally, he reached his building, his heart pounding. He jumped off his bike, fumbling for the key under the mat, fingers shaking.

Relief. He was almost home. He just had to—

"Looking for this?"

Sam froze.

Slowly, he turned around.

There, leaning casually against the doorframe, was Candy.

In one hand, she held his house key.

In the other? His cock ring.

She twirled it lazily around her finger, her lips curling into a smirk.

"We need to talk, Sammy."