Max Mason

"Max, stand up and come with me.” The dean instructed curtly.

“What?” Max said, shaking his head, his heart beating in his throat.

Dean Fletcher looked at him with a glowering scowl and said, “Stand up. Follow me. Or I can carry out your administrative punishment right here. Which will it be?"

Max looked to both of his friends, “Honestly, sir, this is all a huge mis…" he said reluctantly, standing.

The dean cut him off with a wave of his hand. Once Max was silent, the older man pointed into his office, gesturing for him to step inside. Jake and Hunter watched in silence as Max walked into the office with the dean, unsure of what was to come next.

Max looked back at his friends with terrified eyes, before finally disappearing into the dean's office. They hadn't been the ones. Max knew he had to stay calm and collected, but his heart was pounding in his chest. He just hoped he could clear their names before it was too late.

“Sir, if I could just explain!” Max pleaded as he entered the dean's office, but the older man held up a hand to silence him.

"I've heard enough from you already, Mr. Johnson," the dean said sternly, closing the door behind them.

The dean sat behind the desk, his expression stern and unforgiving. "Stand there, Mr. Mason," he said, gesturing in front of the desk. Max complied, feeling small and insignificant in the presence of the older, important man.

Feeling flustered, Max tried to compose himself before speaking. "Sir, I-I understand that you have your doubts about us, but I can assure you that we had nothing to do with it," Max said, his voice trembling slightly.

The dean leaned forward, his eyes closed, and his palm held out again for silence, shaking his head.

He stuttered, but took another deep breath, hoping to calm himself down. “Sir, I apologize if I have said anything out of line…”

The dean opened his eyes, shaking of his head more slowly. Suddenly, closing his hand into a fist, he hit the desk.

Max took the hint and shut up again.

"Max, I like you. Your idiot friends out there are a bad influence... You could be an excellent student, but you talk far too much," the dean began, his voice cold and calculated.

Max felt his mouth go dry, and his palms began to clam up. He knew that this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. He tried to maintain eye contact with the dean, but found himself staring at the floor instead. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of the dean's heavy breathing.

Max could feel his heart racing. He felt like he should say something, he desperately wanted to say anything to help clear their names, but other than anger, he couldn't read the dean's face.

As if he could sense Max's inner turmoil the dean spoke. "I understand that peer pressure can be difficult to resist," he said, his tone more sympathetic now. "But you need to take responsibility for your actions and the consequences that come with them."

Suddenly Max's mind's eye was filled with Noah's naked body, the bathroom scene, the hotsauce, his dick and balls bouncing as he did drills. The prank had been hilarious at the time… hadn't it? Remembering it in this light made him sick to his stomach. It had gotten way out of control.

He knew he had to apologise, but right now the dean was talking about something entirely else. The vandalism. He tired to push Noah's nude form out of his mind. Having to face the consequences of something he didn't do was frustrating. Max shifted uncomfortably as he stood in front of the dean, watching him look him up and down.

The dean's piercing gaze made Max suddenly uncomfortable, as his gaze lingered.

"Right, I think a good old fashioned spanking is in order first, don't you?" the dean asked, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion.

Max's eyes widened in shock. A spanking? Was the dean serious? He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Max had expected some sort of punishment, but a spanking was a bit ****... old fashioned... illegal? He tried to speak up, to protest, but his throat felt dry and his voice caught in his throat. The dean continued to stare at him, waiting for a response.

Max knew he had to say something, but what could he say? He felt trapped, like a deer in headlights. The silence in the room was deafening. The dean got up from behind his desk and began to move towards him.

Max finally managed to find his voice and stammered out, "I...I don't think a s-s-spanking is necessary, sir. I understand that I made a mistake, and I'm willing to accept any other punishment you deem appropriate."

The dean gave a quizical expression. Feigning surprise, he said, "I appreciate your willingness to take responsibility for your actions, Max. However, this is not a negotiation. I believe a spanking will serve as a more effective deterrent for future misbehaviour, and this is just the first of your punishments."

Max's heart raced. It seemed like there was no way out. He hung his head in defeat, knowing that he had brought this upon himself. The dean gestured towards his desk and instructed Max to move forward. As Max nodded and reluctantly complied, the dean walked over to a nearby cabinet and pulled out a wooden paddle. The sound of it hitting his hand sent shivers down Max's spine.

The dean walked back over to Max, his eyes narrowing. "I won't tolerate this kind of behaviour in my college, Max. Do you understand?"

Max nodded again, feeling a lump form in his throat.

“Now drop your pants.”

Max's eyes went wide. His heart raced as he realised what was about to happen.

Ealier in the week he had been through the hazing ritual for the fraterinty. They had removed all of his underwear from his dorm room and replaced them with women's thongs. **** to wear a particularly ridiculous pair today, he felt like his world was crashing down around him. He didn't want to be seen in them, let alone have them exposed to the dean. “Sir, I-I… I can't…”

“Why the hell not?” The dean spat.

Max hesitated, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Max's fear was palpable as he struggled to find the right words. "I just can't...it's not right...it's...it's too much," he stammered.

The dean's expression softened slightly, but he remained stern. "I understand that it's not pleasant, Max, but it's necessary. Do you want to be expelled?"

Max shook his head vigorously, but his hands were shaking. "Please, sir, is there another way?" he pleaded.

“No, there is not. I won't as twice.”

Max had ****. Slowly, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He lowered his pants, revealing a small pink thong to the dean.

The string of the thong tied at both sides. The back tiny triangle sat at the top of where his but cheeks met. The front barely covered his junk. He had tried to manscape, but it hadn't helped.

The dean was visibly shocked at first, but shock gave way to anger. Max felt humiliated and ashamed as he stood there in his embarrassing underwear, awaiting the dean's next command. He wished he could just disappear and forget this ever happened. But he knew that wasn't possible.

“What is the meaning of this?” the dean demanded, his voice stern. The dean's eyes bore into him, waiting for an explanation.

“Th-th-they're not m-mine…” Max struggled to find the words to explain his situation, feeling humiliated in front of the dean. Max stuttered and stumbled as he tried to compose himself, to find the right words.

“These are not appropriate underwear for a student at this college, let alone a male student!”

Max felt his face turn red with embarrassment as he tried to defend himself. But the dean reached for the tiny bit of cloth. Max flinched as the dean grabbed the underwear, feeling violated.

“This is unacceptable!” The dean shouted as his finger brushed against Max's pubic hair, pulling at the fabric, inspecting the underwear.

Max felt his balls slide free to the side as the string of the underwear was **** forward by the dean's grip.

“It's part of the h-h-ha-hazing, sir!” he heard himself shouting, unable to control his voice.

The dean's face hardened as he looked at Max, his disapproval clear. "Hazing is not tolerated at this college, and this is not an excuse for inappropriate behavior. You will be disciplined accordingly." Max hung his head in shame as the dean's fingers brushed against his junk. He flinched, but the dean just held on to the thong tighter. As he looked down, he saw that the fabric no longer covered his dick.

“For goodness sake,” the dean said, pulling a disgusted face at the sight of Max's faccid dick.

Max felt a wave of humiliation wash over him, as he tried to pull up his underwear. As he stood there, trying to compose himself, he felt his world turn on it's head with the dean's next words.

“Get it off; I'm confiscating it.”

Max's face dropped. He had never been so embarrassed in his life. He had never intended for anyone to find out about the hazing thong, and now he was standing in front of the dean, exposed and humiliated.

As the dean reached for the thong, Max hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. He knew that if he refused, it would only make things worse, but he couldn't bear the thought of the dean pulling down his underwear and leaving his bottom half completely naked.

With a heavy heart, Max slowly slid the thong down his legs and handed it over to the dean, feeling violated, he tried to pull his hoddie down over his crotch, but it wasn't long enough. The dean gave him a stern look and instructed him to bend over the desk.

Max did as he was told, feeling completely helpless and exposed. The dean raised the paddle and brought it down hard on Max's bare buttocks. The pain was excruciating, and Max couldn't help but let out a cry. The dean continued to administer the punishment, with each strike feeling more intense than the last.

He couldn't help feeling embarrassed and ashamed. He braced himself as the dean raised the paddle and delivered the first blow. The pain was intense, and Max clenched his teeth to keep from crying out, but it was no use. He tried to think of anything else, but the sound of the paddle hitting his bare skin interupted every thought. As the spanking continued, he felt the dean grab at the bottom of his hoody and tug it up over his head, leaving him entirely naked.

“Remove that,” the dean said as he waited to continue to deliver the punishment.

Max struggled to keep his balance as the hoodie compeltely engulfed his face. He slowly complied, figuring out how to escape the hoddie as quickly as he could, dropping his hoodie on the desk.

“Back in position.” the dean said sternly, instructing him to bend back over the desk and continue. Max did as he was told, feeling more exposed and **** than ever before. Catching a glimps of himself in the reflection of the window, he couldn't help but wonder if anyone else had ever been punished like this by the dean.

As the paddling continued, Max's mind began to wander uncontrollably. He thought about how his dick and balls were swinging freely, dangling between his legs, completely on display for the dean to see. He wondered if the dean was enjoying the sight, and the thought made him feel even more humiliated. The pain was unbearable, but the humiliation was worse. Max felt tears streaming down his face. He just wanted it to be over, but he knew he had to endure it until the dean was satisfied.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the spanking came to an end. The dean told Max to stand up. Max stood up slowly, his bottom on fire, throbbing with pain. Max gingerly tried to touch his sore cheeks, but feeling the heat radiating from it and anticipating the pain, he stopped himself. He couldn't bring himself to look at the dean as the older man made his way around his desk. Feeling ashamed and violated, Max wiped the tears from his eyes.

The pain in his backside was unbearable, and he could feel tears streaming down his face. He tried to focus on something else, anything else. The dean sat down, not willing to take his eyes off him.

“M-m-may… May I get dressed?” Max asked, shivering with fear and shame, his hands clutching his junk.

The dean didn't say anything for a moment, watching Max squirm. Max felt his heart racing as he waited for a response, his mind filled with dread and uncertainty.

Finally, the dean shook his head, "No, Max. You will remain undressed for the remainder of our conversation."

Max's stomach dropped, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He couldn't believe this was happening.

“What's more, you will remain in here, like this, while your friends are punished too.”

Max's heart sank even further. He couldn't bear the thought of his friends seeing him in this state, let alone being punished because of him. He had never felt so humiliated and helpless in his life. He tried to plead with the dean, to explain that it was all a misunderstanding, but the words caught in his throat. He was too scared to speak. The older man seemed to be enjoying his discomfort, his eyes glinting with malice.

“Hands on you head, please.” Max reluctantly raised his hands to his head, exposing his dick and balls to the dean. Max felt utterly violated and ashamed as the dean's eyes lingered on his exposed genitals. Max closed his eyes, trying to block out the humiliation and shame, and waited for feeling defeated and helpless.

He couldn't believe that he was being punished for something he didn't do, and the thought of his friends suffering the same fate, while he was standing like this, made him feel even worse. As the dean continued to watch him with a cruel smirk, he wanted to run, to scream, to do anything to escape this nightmare, but he knew he had **** but to stay put and endure whatever was coming.

“Fold your clothes neatly on the desk." The dean pointed to the discarded hoodie, "I'll throw your underwear, if we can call it that, in the trash.”

Max reluctantly obeyed the dean's orders, feeling completely humiliated and ****. He carefully folded his clothes and watched as the dean inspected the underwear again. Feling a sense of shame wash over him every time the dean looked over at him.

“Okay, stand in the corner and put your hands on your head again, “ the dean said, “I'll bring in the next one.”

Max couldn't believe he was being punished in such a humiliating way. He reluctantly walked to the corner, facing the wall, and reluctantly placed his hands back on his head. He couldn't shake off the feeling of injustice and violation. As he stood there, waiting for the next victim to come in, he felt tears roll down his cheeks. He tried to hold them back, but the more he thought about his situation, the more the tears flowed. He felt like he was being treated like a criminal, and it was all because of a misunderstanding.