His own office

The moment I left the dean’s office naked and utterly humiliated, I knew I couldn’t face the volleyball team and risk another sadistic ambush in the girls’ locker room. Their gag with my locker and the underwear was still way too fresh. My only other option was my own office. It wasn’t far—just a few buildings over—and I kept a spare change of clothes there for emergencies, though I never imagined I’d need them for something like this.

Unfortunately, that meant streaking completely naked across campus. Again.

I took a deep breath, told myself you can do this, and stepped out into the open air.

“Is that…?” a voice said, mid-sentence, as I exited the building.

"Oh my god."

"He's naked again!"

A wave of laughter rippled across a group of co-eds lounging on the steps just ahead of me. I had barely made it out the door, and already their voices rang in my ears. This is going to be excruciating, I thought bitterly, cupping my hands as tightly as possible over my cock and starting my mortifying dash to freedom.

“Damn, look at that ass! Tight and toned—he must do squats.”

“Forget that. Look at the front. He’s holding on for dear life, but I know what that thing looks like.”

“Like what?”

“You didn’t see him last week? The art class football field? Girl, it's like a steel fucking rod when he’s all worked up.”

I clenched my teeth but pushed forward, my face blazing. As I jogged past, the group burst into uproarious laughter. One of the women wolf-whistled; another yelled after me, “Call me, Professor Finn! You’ve got my number—or you should!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake—how the hell does everyone know about this?

The worst of it was that these weren’t even the first students to see me naked. Half the campus had probably memorized every inch of my body by now.

“Hey, Finn! Remember me?” one of them hollered from behind. “I transferred into art just for you! Thanks for the inspiration!”

I didn’t turn around—I couldn’t. My mortification was already off the charts. By the time I reached the door to the adjacent building, my ears were ringing from all the teasing catcalls and comments.

Inside wasn’t much better. The hallways were narrow, forcing me into close proximity with everyone I passed. I tucked my shoulders in, hugging the wall as much as possible, but there was no escaping their stares.

“Squeeze past me anytime, big guy.”

“Hey, no judgment—if I had a body like yours, I’d go naked every day.”

“Oh no, don’t hold it—let it breathe, Professor Finn!”

Their voices followed me as I weaved through the corridors. At one point, a female professor stepped out of her office right as I passed. I froze mid-step as we nearly collided, my cock brushing dangerously close to her stack of papers.

“Need a hand, Professor?” she asked with a wicked grin, her eyes flicking to where his hands were firmly planted. “Or maybe… a second pair?”

I groaned under my breath as I finally spotted the door to my office. Almost there, I thought, quickening my pace. The hallway was mercifully empty by the time I reached the door, and I practically slammed it behind me as I stumbled inside.

Finally, I was safe. I slammed the door, locking it behind me for good measure, and let my arms drop. My cock sprang upward, an involuntary response to the day’s endless stress. For the first time, I allowed myself to breathe.

"Well, someone’s glad to see me."

The teasing voice stopped me cold. I turned slowly, dread pooling in my stomach, to see a woman reclining in the chair opposite my desk, holding my pants like some sort of trophy.