Statistics

It had been quite a morning. Earlier, I'd discovered the fraternity I'd joined secretly took nude photos of me and the other pledges to publish in a magazine distributed to the entire college! To make it worse, they included close up photos of my hard dick along with specific descriptions of length, girth, color and clinical details about my circumcision scar and veins. This "Fresh Meat" publication lived up to its name by objectifying our bodies into slabs of meat.

As if that weren't bad enough, the alphabetical name listing put me smack in the middle of the magazine where the pages naturally want to open. I was essentially the centerfold model.

And now I had to go to my first class since the pictures came out, and share a classroom with fellow students that had not only seen me naked but all owned pictures of me naked, including life-size photos of my hard cock. The dread I felt swelled knowing which class would be the first of such humiliations.

Statistics was by far my least favorite class. I'd always struggled with math but had heard this subject was supposed to be fun. Turns out it's only "fun" if you happen to already be good at math. Most of the other students in the class were majoring in math of some kind and they frequently got annoyed at me for slowing down the class. I was always asking Professor Thompson to repeat himself or asking follow up questions the rest of class clearly found obvious. This meant I was about to face the least sympathetic group of people I knew.

Praying to get through the day with as little attention as possible I tried to hide in the back of the classroom. But as I entered everyone already in there stared at me with laser focus. I aimed my eyes on the floor and shuffled to the back of the room to take a seat, with the sounds of giggles and whispers following me.

When Professor Thomas walked into the classroom barely anyone noticed.

"Mister Mitchells!" he called out, startling several students that had been fixated on me.

"Given that everyone is determined to stare at you, you might as well come upfront so they don't have to strain their necks."

Reluctantly I slowly got to my feet, scooped up my bag and came to the front of the room and started to take an empty seat.

"No, I want you to just sand here for now and face the class."

"But..." I started to protest.

"No, you'll see why in a moment." he interrupted me before addressing the class as a whole.

"You see, it's conventional wisdom among the faculty that there's no point in trying to teach class on the day that a new addition of Fresh Meat comes out. That everyone will likely be too distracted to pay attention to the lessons. Especially if we have a model in class."

He indicated me as I tried to stay focused on the floor.

"But I chose to see it as a learning opportunity."

The professor clicked a key on his laptop, then up on the wall appeared images of me, nude along with close up pictures of my cock. Professor Thompson was blowing up the pages of me from the Fresh Meat catalog!

Gasps and giggles came from the class and all eyes darted between me and the pictures on the wall. I stared in disbelief and reflexively moved to cover my groin, which only sparked more laughter at the futility of such an action.

"Now. Since everyone here is already thinking about Michael, specifically Michael's penis, specifically his penile length, how about we run through some numbers?"

I felt my stomach drop and blood flow to my face. I couldn't believe he was showing nude photos of me in class and encouraging everyone to think about my cock. And to make things worse the attention was starting to arouse said cock.

The professor addressed the whole class "According to calcsd.info, Michael's penile length of 6.675 inches puts him as longer than 96.41% of penises. Quite impressive, Mr. Mitchells!"

"Um, thanks?" I murmured, not sure how else to respond.

The professor and most of the class chuckled at my awkwardness.

"It also says that if Michael were in a room of 1,000 men, there would likely be only 36 penises bigger than his. Given that there are now only 15 men in the room, what are the odds then?"

Amongst more giggling several hands shot up. The professor pointed to Sarah Peters, one of the best students in the class and most frequently annoyed at me.

"0.5385 likelihood someone is a bigger penis than Michael. Oops, 'has' I meant to say."

"Hmmm, very good Miss Peters." the professor said over the sound of student laughter.

"But, Professor?" Sarah continued " I heard that there was some controversy a few years back. That one of the... models complained that his published stats weren't accurate."

"Ah yes. Mr. Noel Hartman. Poor lad. He'd hoped to get the fraternity to recall the addition with him in it by claiming he hadn't been measured properly. The fraternity responded by promising to right the situation if Mr. Hartman agreed to be measured again. He reluctantly agreed and the fraternity made good on their promise by publishing a special addition with just his images and information. To make sure the "correction" was spread far and wide they sent a copy to all alumni, even if they weren't subscribed."

"So Noel was right? Had they measured him wrong?" asked Sarah

"As I recall he came in slightly shorter the second time. But a promise is a promise."

Sarah looked at me with an evil grin.

"So, how can we be sure Michael's measurements are correct?"

"Now that is an intriguing point." Professor Thomspon agreed. "After all, we're assuming accurate data despite having only one sample of measuring. We don't want to work with inaccurate information do we, class?"

"No!" several students called out.

"And how do we improve accuracy?"

"With more data!" Sarah offered.

I didn't like where this was going.

"And how could we acquire more data?"

She stared me directly in the eye and smiled wide. "We could measure him again."

"Aah! Hah hah huh." I let out a squeal that awkwardly shifted to nervous laughter.

"Well, Mr. Mitchells, what do you think?" the professor asked.

"What? I couldn't.."

"After all, it would be an opportunity to... boldly display courage and manhood." he said with a smirk.

He was quoting the fucking oath! Suddenly I realized the story about Noel had an implied threat behind it. That guy had tried to go back out on the oath and the fraternity punished him with further exposure. If I declined or refused now, would the fraternity see that as a betrayal? How far would they go to make my humiliation worse? Would they send my pictures and stats to my old highschool? To my family?

I realized signing that oath not only made it impossible to undo my exposure, but also made it harder to avoid in the future.

Everyone at the school likely knew about the oath. We'd marched around campus reciting it a thousand times during pledge. It was also referenced on the back of every copy of Fresh Meat. If I tried to say no to the professor it would certainly get back to the fraternity.

Every face was staring at me, waiting for my response.

"Uh.. yeah. I guess."

"Excellent." The professor then folded his arms as if waiting for something and shot a quick glance at the front of my pants.

I looked at the other students and saw they were all leaning forward. Like me, they couldn't believe this was happening. My next move would confirm it.

Failing to come up with other options, I reluctantly reached for my belt. At my nervous unbuckling I heard gasps and a male voice from the back whisper "No way!"

To make it worse my treacherous cock had continued to expand, seemingly eager for impending attention.

The gasps became thrilled giggles as I fumbled to undo the front of my pants. Once my fly had been opened and parted the tented front of my underwear sprang forth to the delight of everyone in the front row.

There was now only a single layer of fabric between my erection and everyone's eyes. Even so I wanted to cling to that minor protection but knew there was no going back.

With a deep breath I slipped my fingers into the front of my waistband. Time seemed to slow to an aching pace as my now throbbing cock sprang into full view.

"Oh good!" chuckled the Professor. "Your.. enthusiasm will save us some time."

"Luckily for you I have measuring tools for my afternoon Geometry class. It's just a shame you're not in that class or we could do more detailed measurements and determine your penis's volume and surface area."

He began to hand me a clear plastic ruler. My hand was trembling as I reached for it. The thought of measuring myself in front of all these people and then having to report my size gave me a sense of terror but also kept my cock raging hard.

But right before I reached the ruler, he pulled it back.

"Actually. Now that I think about it, self reporting is notoriously unreliable on this subject. I don't suppose anyone in the class would like to volunteer?"

Immediately all of the girls and half the boys raise their hands. A few more guys shrugged and raised theirs after seeing how much of the class had responded.

"That's almost everyone. How generous. Though picking someone fairly would take as much time as having everyone do it. Alright, better form a line!"

I shot the professor a horrified look as the class gleefully rushed to form a line in front of me.

"Just think of all the data we'll have! After this everyone will be able to say with confidence that they know the true length of your penis."

His words both made my heart sink and cock twitch.

He handed the ruler to the first person in line. A girl I didn't really know but had seen looking at me from time to time. Usually with an annoyed expression.

Meekly she walked up to me with the ruler at waist level. Unsure what to do I awkwardly lifted my shirt to offer easier access. I couldn't believe this was happening.

"Ah yes, that's rather in the way. Why don't you just go ahead and remove all that?" the professor said, gesturing to my clothing from head to toe.

Begrudgingly I obeyed. As I slid down my pants and stepped out of them I wondered how ridiculous I must have looked with my throbbing hardon bouncing in front of me.

The professor opened his arms expectantly so I picked up the pile of clothes and handed them to him.

"I'll just lock these in my desk drawer so some jokester doesn't get the notion to run off with them."

Several chuckles told me plenty of people really enjoyed that idea.

Now there I was, completely naked in front of a class of my clothed classmates. Earlier I had thought that standing near nude photos of myself was as bad as being naked. But now the reality was far worse. I'm sure seeing my lean, muscular body naked reaffirmed their impression of me as some dumb jock that didn't belong in their class. For the rest of the semester I'd have to face these people, knowing they've seen me like this, fully nude and erect.

The girl with the ruler stood facing me just a foot away. She looked up and down my naked body, seeming almost as much in disbelief as I was.

Finally she stepped forward and placed the ruler on top of my cock. Without meaning to, I twitched my pc muscles making my dick bounce slightly, knocking the ruler away. She looked up at me annoyed, and I tried to give an apologetic expression. Then she shrugged a little and with her other hand reached to grab and steady my cock from underneath. I gasped a little at the contact. The realization sunk in that I was about to be manhandled by everyone in the class.

She looked down at the ruler seemingly transfixed by the situation.

"Well?" the professor interjected.

The girl startled for a second before mumbling "6.675 inches"

"A bit louder please."

"It's 6.675 inches" she called out loud enough for the whole class to hear.

A hushed giggle echoed through the room and I felt completely objectified and humiliated. When I was measured for the magazine it was through a glory hole and I had no idea what was happening. Now the entire class witnessed my cock being measured and I truly felt like a piece of meat.

The next person up was the first guy in the line. Although he was one of the last to raise his hand, he'd been sitting in the first row, so he wound up near the front of the line. He actually seemed really nervous himself.

He awkwardly accepted the ruler handed to him by the previous student and then tried to stand as far from me as possible while poking me above the base of my dick. I went to grab the ruler to straighten it.

"Uuhp! None of that!" the professor reprimanded me. "Can't have you potentially influencing the measurements. You'd better put your hands behind your back and just keep them there."

Reluctantly, I obeyed and moved my hands behind my butt and interlocked my fingers. As the guy with the ruler tried again to put the ruler against my cock without touching me, the professor firmly grabbed one of my wrists and pushed, making me thrust my pelvis forward in surprise.

"If you want to be helpful, try standing like this."

Now, not only was I standing completely nude in a classroom full of clothed people, I was also aggressively pointing my fully hard cock at my classmates. Several gasps and giggles responded to my new pose.

Despite my "helpful" position the student with the ruler just awkwardly poked my pubes, sliding it around and off my body a couple of times.

"Umm" he muttered, "I think his... hair is in the way?"

This inspired another round of laughter and caused me to blush even deeper. I keep myself neatly manscaped but not totally bald. The idea that I had a hairy enough bush to get in the way was ridiculous.

"I've got disposable razors!" called out one of the other guys in line. I recognized him as Paul Anderson, a cute blonde guy and one of the few openly gay boys I've known about on campus.

"We gotta stay smooth on the swim team," he explained. After leaving the line to quickly retrieve his gym bag he produced a plastic disposable razor and ran straight up to me. "I'm afraid I'm almost out of shaving cream though."

"I've got skin lotion!" a girl quickly called out.

"I've got cold cream!" yelled another, rummaging through her purse.

"You know, Mr. Mitchells" the professor injected "Shaving you would remove a corrupting variable. And we do want the most accurate data to work with, don't we."

Before I could think of an argument Paul began handing me the razor and I reflexively released a hand from behind my back to accept it before Paul suddenly pulled the razor back.

"Wait. Have you ever used a razor... down there before?" Paul asked.

In fact, I have an electric trimmer I use specifically for manscaping, but in truth I've never tried to use an actual razor on my balls or dick.

"Err.. not really, no." I muttered quietly. Even so, a few girls heard and giggled.

"So maybe I should... help?" Paul looked to the professor as if asking permission.

"Well we don't need a medical emergency interrupting our class project." Professor Thomas nodded. "So unless you're afraid of letting another man groom you..." he trailed off.

Damn it. He was invoking the concept of courage again. The fact is Paul was hot as fuck and the thought of him touching me for any reason was exciting. Just... not like this.

"It's fine." I said, trying to find a safe place to direct my eyes.

"Here." said the girl with the cold cream as she tried to hand it to Paul.

"Why don't you put it on for him? I don't need my hands getting slippery."

As the crowd laughed and hollered, I gave Paul a shocked look, which he responded to with a smirk and a wink. For all he knew he was doing me a favor by letting a girl feel me up.

"Okay!" the girl said with enthusiasm as he got to her knees in front of me and opened the canister of cream.

I tried to stay frozen like a statue as she scooped out a generous dollop of the thick, white cream. At first she dabbed it carefully on my pubes, trying to minimize the contact. But after looking up and seeing from my expression that I was completely helpless, she smiled and got more aggressive. Her fingers smooshed the cold cream into my pubes and swirled around. Her eyes darted back and forth from my eyes to my groin as she got more aggressive, rubbing the cream on my balls and further up the shaft of my cock than she needed to. Despite the substance being cold and applied by a girl the sensation on my junk was still a new kind of stimulation. Despite myself my cock twitched, which I'm sure she could feel as her hand subtilty stroked the base of my shaft.

"Thanks, girl." said Paul, as he kneeled down to take her place.

She took the hint and reluctantly stood up, letting her fingers stroke me unnecessarily as she let go.

Almost immediately Paul used three fingers to grab the head of my dick. He made a big show of lifting my cock and moving it back and forth, pretending to examine it for a plan on how to shave. With his other hand he lifted the razor and skillfully began removing my already trimmed bush. He'd use the hand on my dick to move around, allegedly for easier access. But as he shaved he found subtle ways to stroke and fondle me more than he needed to. Whether he suspected I was gay or not, he took the opportunity to enjoy himself. After he eventually finished he pulled a small towel out of his bag and wiped off the extra shaving cream from my dick and balls. He definitely took longer than he needed to.

Now I was completely bald down there. Somehow I felt even more vulnerable and exposed than before.

The boy with the ruler returned and let out a small snicker at seeing my completely bald groin. He tried his best to avoid touching me directly while pressing the ruler against the top of my cock.

"Be sure to press the tip of the ruler into Michael's public mound." interjected the professor. "According to the websites, 'bone pressed' is the standard."

The male student shrugged and did as he was told.

"Six and... seven eights." he called out, making sure to be loud enough for everyone to hear.

And so it went. One by one my fellow students got a close look at my naked body and proceeded to treat my hard cock as the subject of the class project. And all the while I felt compelled to just stand there and allow it.

Eventually it was Paul's turn to measure. He'd gotten to shave me already and now was his second time to ogle and molest my naked body.

Paul stepped up, bent over, and leaned in close so that his face was inches from my cock. I could feel his warm breath on my shaft.

With his right hand he placed the ruler on top of my penis and with his left hand subtly and gently stroked the underside of my shaft with his fingers. With his left hand he pretended to steady the ruler while also fingering the underside of the tip of my dick.

I gasped a little, not knowing if he suspected I was gay or just enjoyed the opportunity to fondle a straight guy.

He pressed the ruler hard into my pubes while also pressing down hard with this thumb, reducing the blood flow out of my cock. Along with his subtle stroking of the underside of my shaft this caused my dick to throb even harder.

"Seven!" he called out triumphantly, apparently pleased with himself for causing my cock to react as it did.

"What? No way!" one of the girls leaned in to verify, inspiring several other students to gather around, creating a huddle with my dick as the center of attention.

"Look for yourself." Paul offered while still pressing the base of my cock to keep it extra swollen.

My classmates did just that and were surprised to verify his results.

"Damn!" said one girl while pulling out her phone and snapping a photo.

I suddenly realized no one had said anything about taking pictures so I instinctively looked to the professor.