Hello again! This is the seventh part of the Boundaries Experiment Series. Please read Parts 1,2, 3, 4 , 5, 6 and 7 to catch up. The following story themes of m/f eroticism, cfnm, public cmnm, enm, semi-consensual public sex and reluctance. If you do not care for any of this, the story may not be for you. All characters, locations and scenarios are entirely fictional, and all characters are over 18. This chapter focuses primarily on CFNM and light Femdom play, as well as public displays. Thank you for reading and stay tuned for more fun across the sexual spectrum!
Jayden desperately wants to go to the restroom and brush his teeth, but he's deeply worried somehow he'll get there and find that missing too, or worse, that some other guy from his floor will see that as a golden opportunity to bring him down another peg, as though he weren't already at rock bottom. So, he settles for swishing with the little travel bottle of mouthwash they thankfully left in his desk drawer next to the condoms. Which, he notices, are also still present.
And he can't stop thinking about Elijah's comments about safe sex, and wondering how long it will be before someone tries to use one of his own condoms on him. The thought makes him shudder. But then, if it feels anything like the Dean's fingers, the maybe...
He shakes the traitorous thought from his mind. No, nobody is going to fuck him. His friends will stop them or something. He still has allies, and who's going to want to have to own up to fucking another dude in the ass? Especially in public? No, he's safe, and he needs to eat something.
Besides, he reasons with himself, if someone wants to get at him right now, it's not like he can even close the door to stop them.
He sighs, and forces himself back up onto his feet, making sure his flipflops are firmly in place. At least, he thinks, Nathan wears shoes and socks, otherwise he might have been licking dirt. It's a disgusting thought, but one he'll hold onto when he's trying to keep himself from getting hard.
He starts out into the hallway, still fighting the instinct to cover himself, and instead sprints down the hall as best he can in his flipflops, balls slapping against his thighs as he dashes. People hoot and holler, but he manages to make it out the door and into the stairwell without any further gropes or requests. A small miracle in his book. Then it's down the stairway, only passing one very freaked-out looking young coed in a long skirt who gaped at him in horror then dashed up the stairs. It was almost funny, and he's almost letting himself relax until he steps outside, into the light of the later afternoon sun, and is confronted by a small crowd.
At the forefront is Paul Wesley, a journalism major from back east, whose sandy brown hair and Atlantic green eyes belie the absolute pitbull hiding beneath his smile. Much shorter than Jayden, he holds his phone up toward Jayden as he speaks to him. "Jayden, do you have any comment about being the Guinea Pig for this intense new level of punishment for cheating?" he asks, and then before Jayden can answer, "Do you think this will become the norm, or that it's specific to you, since your academic dishonesty occurred in a Human Sexuality Course?"
"I, uh, I don't know," Jayden says, and tries to push ahead. "I'm just trying to get some food, Paul, come on," he says, and Paul pulls back the phone and starts snapping pictures. "Give me a fucking break."
"Oh, that's beautiful quote," Paul says, and smirks. "It's really not going to do much to make people like you, though."
"Like me? I'm not trying to win an election, dude," Jayden scoffs, and walks ahead again, but this time he's stopped by a wall of turquoise and gold, their school colors. There, in front of him, is the Duncan University Football Cheerleading Squad. Or at least the five most important members of first string. And at their center, with her perfect tits, flawless braids and deep brown eyes that seem to want to swallow him whole, is Stacy Greene, the captain of the cheerleading squad.
"Hi Jayden," she says, her eyes scanning him, pressing her lips together when she lands on his dick, shriveled now with his recent humiliations and looking near its smallest. Her eyes move back to his. "Or is it Jaybird, now?"
"Still Jayden," he says, crossing his arms over his chest and hoping he can't get in trouble for that. He stands up straighter, trying to use his height to somehow maintain his dignity with this beautiful cheerleader who has never liked him much, from what he's ever been able to tell. "I'm just trying to get some food, but people keep ambushing me and harassing me. "
"Aw, I'd never harass you," Stacy says, and runs her hand over his chest, trailing her fingers over his abs as she stares into his eyes. "We came to give you support, Jaybird. So if you're heading to dinner, we'll escort you, won't we girls?" The other cheerleaders all nod eagerly. "See? You're safe with us."
"Right, sure," Jayden says, not quite able to believe it could possibly be this easy. But Stacy takes one of his muscular arms, and a pretty brunette takes the other, and just like that, he's following their lead, letting the cheerleaders parade him through the crowds of students as they head toward the large dining hall, where potentially dozes upon dozens of students are about to witness his shame.
But, at least, he'll be arriving with a crowd of sexy cheerleaders. Maybe this fucked up situation does have a perk or two, he thinks to himself.
One of those perks is the way the girls keep touching him, running their fingers over his ass, his abs, his thighs. Experimenting, playing, the girls giggle. All, of course, except for Stacy, who he doesn't think has ever giggled in her life. Stacy is walking just in front of him, looking over at him with a smirk on her glossy lips.
"So, Jaybird," she says, trailing her fingernails teasingly over his pec, across his shoulder and down his bicep, "if you're a good boy tonight and do as you're told, maybe we can be your regular dinner escorts." The cheer captain moves closer to him, and the smell of her perfume and the overwhelming sensuality surrounding him starts to set in. "Just don't get hard until we tell you," she purrs, running those French Manicured nails over his balls. He shudders, feeling the blood rushing to his dick already. "Uh oh, did it just get a little bit bigger?" she asks, and the other girls giggle again.
"It totally did, Stacy," a knockout brunette says. She's either new or Jayden is just too out of it to remember her name, but she looks at him like she could eat him for dinner herself. "Look, it's getting normal-dick sized!"
"Thanks," Jayden says, the comment nearly enough to kill the buzz all by itself.
"Aw, Pacey, don't be mean," Stacy gently reprimands, still playing with Jayden's pendulous balls as his cock continues to stiffen in spite of his best efforts. "Besides, that's exactly what we can't have." She looks him in the eye. "No jerking off until we say, so that means..." she reaches out to a blonde, who hands her a waterbottle that rattles with ice inside. She shakes it at Jayden, then squirts a stream of ice cold water directly at his dick.
Jayden lets out a gasp and bends over, stopped in his tracks by the icepick in his semi. He blows out a breath, and gets a ding from his phone. "Probably telling you not to cover up," Stacy says, and gives his ass a slap, much to the amusement of the other cheerleaders. He straightens moving his hands, and reveals his dick is now fully soft again, and shrunken so much it threatens to disappear beneath his pubes. Or worse, turn inside itself. The humiliation of walking into the dining hall looking like he has no dick and shrunken balls is just too much.
"It's fine now. Just, maybe touch me less, okay? I'm kind of sensitive still," Jayden pleads, hoping to appeal to their sense of sympathy. "That water's crazy gold, Stac."