Maddies Underwear Humiliation

All characters are 18 years of age or older.

18-year-old Maddie had always been pretty, but in recent years she'd blossomed into one of the most beautiful girls on campus, and the guys had taken notice. She'd always been well-respected and now she was more popular than ever, but at heart, she was still a modest, shy, academic girl. While her friends and female classmates had graduated to wearing thongs and lacy panties, Maddie still wore the cotton briefs and bikini-briefs she'd always worn, many of them adorned with childish patterns. They just felt safer and more comfortable. She never worried about anyone finding out: she didn't do much with guys, and after gym class she still changed in the privacy of a bathroom stall. (She was as self-conscious and shy about her underwear as she was about her naked body; to her, underwear was every bit as private and intimate, and in some ways even more so.)

*

Maddie's family had a lot of money, which had always made some of her peers resentful, but ever since the guys had started salivating over her, the popular mean girls had come to see Maddie as a true threat — a threat to be squashed. She was popular in her own right, but she'd never been one of the cool girls on the cheerleading squad, and truthfully they'd always frightened her. Still, she never thought she could be one of their targets, and she especially never thought that something as private and personal as her taste in underwear could be used against her to result in the greatest public humiliation of her life.

But things changed when Brett, the lacrosse captain, asked her to go with him to the homecoming dance. Two weeks prior, he'd broken up with Sarah, the cruel, conceited head cheerleader, and when she found out that Brett was going to the dance with Maddie, she immediately began scheming. "There's gotta be something we can use against her," she fumed. "Little Miss Perfect has gotta have some secret."

Even more sadistic than Sarah was Gretchen, her best friend, cheerleading co-captain, and most ruthless henchman. A few days later, the cheerleaders' phones vibrated with a text from Gretchen. It contained a grainy photo of an open gym bag. Inside were two pairs of girls' underwear: one was yellow adorned with pink teddy bears, and the other was spangled with pink rainbows. "I wonder what Brett will think when he learns that Maddie still wears preschoolers' panties," Gretchen had written.

For the next three weeks, they began enacting their plan. Maddie, a straight-A student, was famously responsible and cautious, always planning ahead, which is why her gym bag contained not one pair of panties but two, just in case she needed an extra on hand. Every day during gym class, one of the cheerleaders would excuse themselves to go to the bathroom. They'd then sneak into the locker room and beeline for Maddie's gym bag, unzipping it and carefully pocketing the spare pair of panties Maddie kept inside.

Two or three days into this scheme, one of them saw Maddie frowning down at her bag after class, having noticed that one of her pairs of underwear was missing. The cheerleaders had planned for this. "Miss Wilcox, my underwear is missing!" Sarah said to their gym teacher, loud enough for Maddie to hear. "Mine too!" Gretchen declared. "I bet some boys are playing a prank," Miss Wilcox responded. "The school won't allow us to lock the locker rooms or install security cameras, but mark my words — if anyone on this campus is planning to humiliate you ladies, I'll make it clear that they'll be facing expulsion."

A few times a week thereafter, one of the cheerleaders would dramatically announce in the locker room that another pair of her panties had been stolen. Every time, someone glancing over at Maddie would notice her blushing furiously at the thought of a boy sneaking into her gym bag to take her childish underwear, but she seemed reassured by Miss Wilcox's promise that nothing would come of this prank, and that "eventually the boys will get bored."

This went on for three weeks. Finally, the cheerleaders met up at Sarah's house one night after school. She dumped a duffel bag out onto her bed, and out spilled at least twenty pairs of the most embarrassingly childish panties they'd ever seen: decorated with cartoon characters, rainbows, hearts, bunnies, and cute pastel stripes and polka dots, all fringed with ruffles or lace. "Jackpot," Sarah declared.

The plan was set in action for the next day during gym class. "Miss Wilcox, I'm not feeling well," one of the cheerleaders, Lisa, announced. "I'll walk her to the nurse," her friend Haley said. The two left the gym, but instead of heading to the nurse's office, they went to their lockers to retrieve the duffel bag (straining against the sheer volume of the panties) as well as the clothesline one of them had brought from home. From there, they headed out to the front of the school.

What happened next had carefully rehearsed. Before gym class, Gretchen had snuck into the locker room and unscrewed the lock on the bathroom stall doors. After class was over, the girls headed into the locker room, and Sarah, Gretchen, and their friend Kelsey watched as Maddie grabbed her gym bag and made her way into the stall to change. From the edge of the bathroom, they watched the open space beneath the stall door, waiting for the opportune moment. They saw Maddie drop her gym shirt into her open duffel bag, with her bra following a moment thereafter. It was about to be the moment of truth. With their phones out in their hands, the cheerleaders smiled at each other, fixating on Maddie's legs beneath the stall door. Finally, it happened: they saw Maddie's red gym shorts slide down past her knees and down her calves. They pounced.

Gretchen had done her pre-gym job well: the metal lock bolt fell from the door and clattered to the tile floor, and the stall door opened effortlessly. Inside was Maddie, wearing nothing but her panties, bending slightly to pick up her gym shorts. She looked up at them, and for a few seconds she was like a deer caught in the headlights. The cheerleaders' phones captured her expression: her mouth open in a ridiculous 'O' of surprise and bewilderment, as if she hadn't fully processed what was happening.

But the best part exceeded the cheerleaders' wildest expectations. After three weeks of quietly amassing Maddie' underwear, they knew that many of her panties weren't all that remarkable. Many of them were simply plain cotton briefs or bikini-briefs in solid pastel colors: modest and innocent, yes, but not especially childish or embarrassing. Their plan wouldn't have been ruined if this had been the case that day — the reserved, inhibited, shy girl was going to be seen by the entire school as she'd never been seen before — but it would have lacked the true crux of humiliation that had set the plan in motion in the first place.

But the cheerleaders had nothing to worry about. Standing in the door of the stall, Sarah, Gretchen, and Kelsey's eyes traveled down in sync from Maddie's stunned face, past her pale naked breasts (which, Sarah thought spitefully, were very nice), and to her waist, and it was like Christmas had come early. Of the twenty pairs of Maddie's underwear they'd seen,

none

were as juvenile, ridiculous, or embarrassing as these. Their innocent white fabric was decorated with the word

Princess

in girly cursive lettering and various patterns in that theme: rainbows, fairytale castles, hearts, and gems, like something you'd see on a nursery's wallpaper. With their high waistband, they were more bloomers than panties, fringed with pink scalloped elastic, crowned with a little blue bow at the front. All of the cheerleaders still had some pairs of panties from their younger years (forgotten in their underwear drawers or else reserved for the days when they were on their periods), and it was clear that this was the case here, that Maddie had owned these since childhood. The white cotton fabric (embarrassing in its innocent sexlessness) was faded from many years of washing, and the elastic waistband was stretched and strained.

(The fact that wealthy Maddie seemingly hadn't bought new underwear in years somehow made the panties even more embarrassing. It would be one thing if they'd been a necessity of economic hardship, but instead the old, stretched panties made the wealthy, pretty, put-together girl seem like an unkempt slob: a perception reinforced by the strands of pubic hair visible on either side of the slack pink elastic, at least a month overdue for a trim.)

Finally, a sneering Sarah broke the silence. "Aww, would you look at little Maddie's pretty panties," she said in a mocking baby voice. "Were you going to wear those to Homecoming?"

In a ridiculous and failed pantomime of modesty, Maddie hunched over in an instinct to hide herself. She brought one arm up to cover her naked breasts, and with her legs crossing and knees buckling, she used her other hand to hide her humiliating underwear — or at least to attempt to hide them, unsuccessfully. Somehow, the desperation of this gesture only made Maddie seem even more exposed and shameful. In her baffled shock, she was still at a loss for words, but the videos being recorded on the cheerleaders' phones showed her face growing redder than it had ever been.

"I think Brett would love to know about these cute panties you wear," Sarah sneered. "Or, better yet, how about the entire school?"

It was only when the three cheerleaders surrounded Maddie and grabbed her that the humiliated, helpless girl found her voice. "No — wait — wait — no — wait — please," she pleaded. The cheerleaders grabbed her by the arms and hoisted her off the ground as they set out for the locker room exit, laughing at how her legs kicked frantically in the empty air. They led her out of the locker room and down the main hallway toward the front doors. "Please — please — let me go — let me go — I'll do anything," she begged. The hallways were empty — people were still in class — and it was clear that Maddie was trying to keep her voice down: desperate to not alert anyone to what was happening in the hall, desperate to minimize the audience of her exposure.

"Oh, you'll do anything?" Sarah called out loudly, leading Maddie to squirm and flail more. "Please, be quiet, be quiet, they'll hear —"

"Oh, they'll hear?" Gretchen laughed. "Wouldn't you rather them... see?"

It was just then, right as the cheerleaders and their struggling captive reached the front doors, that Maddie saw the cheerleaders' friend Megan. She was standing by the doorway with a wide smile on her face — and her hand was on the fire alarm.

"No — no — nooooooo," Maddie moaned. But it was too late. With a swift pull, Megan pulled down the red handle, and the halls were filled with the earsplitting wail of the fire alarm: the sound that would prove to be the siren call of the worst humiliation of her life. But nothing could have prepared Maddie for what she saw when the cheerleaders flung open the front doors of the school.

There, strung up on a clothesline between two lampposts, were Maddie's panties.

From the time she was a little girl, when she'd seen an episode of a Nickelodeon show where a girl dreamed she's in front of the whole school in her panties, Maddie had felt that to have her underwear exposed would be every bit as embarrassing as being seen naked. Sure, your underwear covers your their most intimate parts, but in its own way, it was just as intimate. You choose their underwear each day in their most vulnerable and literally naked moments, behind the privacy of closed doors. No one ever expects their underwear to be revealed, but when it is, those doors are flung open. Everyone suddenly can glimpse into these most private moments.

Now, not only was Maddie exposed in her underwear: her entire underwear drawer was on display. Every single pair that had gone missing from her gym bag was hanging there in a ridiculous caricature of a ship's flags. For the first time, she realized just how humiliating her panties really were. Every childish pattern was exposed: the rainbows and hearts and cartoon animals; the polka dots and stripes; the ruffles and scalloped edges. In the bright daylight, she could see faded stains that hadn't come out in the wash. Many of these she'd brought to summer camp in her youth, and her camp had required that all clothing be labeled. Eliminating any doubt about whose silly panties they were, you could see her name written in Sharpie along the inside waistband:

MADDIE

.

"We thought everyone might like to know how Little Miss Perfect is really just a silly little girl," Sarah declared. "And here they are now!"

Maddie had been consumed by the horror and humiliation of seeing her panties fluttering cartoonishly in the breeze, and for a moment it had been like she was underwater, tuning out the loud drone of the fire alarm. But now, Sarah and Gretchen, who still holding her by her arms, jerked her around away from the humiliating display of underwear to face the front of the school. There, filing out of the front doors, was every student in the school: everyone she'd ever known, everyone she'd ever wanted to impress, everyone she'd ever found cute. Dozens became hundreds, their confused murmurs rising up over the school.

"Before before I forget," Sarah said. "We figured you might like to be the one to tell everyone the real truth."

With that, Sarah shoved something into Maddie's hand. In her numb horror, it took Maddie a moment to realize it was a sign, and it took her another moment to look up at it and read the words emblazoned on it in Sarah's handwriting.

I WEAR LITTLE GIRLS' UNDERPANTS

It was this and the following gesture that finally broke the confused murmurs of the crowd into laughter. Maddie felt Sarah pat her head — or at least, what she thought was a pat on her head. This patronizing gesture would have been humiliating enough. Later, though, when she found herself in front of a mirror, Maddie would realize that not all of her stolen panties were on the clothesline: one pair was on her head, like a ridiculous hat.

This is how the laughter started. First it was just one or two barely stifled giggles, but then came the guffaw of some meatheaded jock. This is what finally shattered the silence — what allowed the crowd to give into the laughter they'd briefly tried to suppress. Within seconds, hundreds of people were laughing at Maddie: not just her peers but teachers too. Many in the crowd were beside themselves, with tears running down their faces, clutching onto each other for support. At least a hundred of them had their phones out, documenting Maddie's shame.

And there, in the front row, was Brett. His lacrosse buddies were laughing harder than anyone, but for several moments he just seemed confused, as if this was an elaborate practical joke. Maddie felt her eyes meet his. She heard herself make a sound that was almost animal-like: a grunt or a groan of pure shame and horror, the sound of a humiliation too devastating to express in words. She watched Brett's eyes move up to the clotheslines, surveying each of her pairs of panties, and then he looked down at her. She saw his lips form the word "Princess?" as a question, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. She looked at him desperately, as if pleading with him.

And then he started laughing.