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Status: Finished  |  Genre: General Erotica  |  House: Stripping and Humiliation

In British slang 'chav' is an acronym that stands for 'council housed and violent' (allegedly, though this is disputed) i.e. aggressive and confrontational people from council estates (subsidised housing owned by local government) who are prone to anti-social behaviour. Stereotypically they dress in cheap tracksuits and baseball caps. A giro (no longer issued) was a government benefit cheque that could be cashed at a post office.

This tale is about why it's unwise to insult them.

Scott Pearson walked beside the busy main road with his friend Greg Foster on his way to Greg's house to borrow a book to read over the weekend. It was a bit after 6 pm on a Friday evening and the rush hour traffic was beginning to dissipate. They passed a bus shelter, one side open to the road, the other three plastered with timetables and adverts. Opposite the shelter was the main access road to a large council housing estate. Scott pointed to it. “Chav central!” he joked. “Giro Grove! Remember Mark Fox and his gang from school? Didn't they mostly live there? I never had much trouble from them but a couple of my friends did so it's good to know I'll never have to see them again.”

The two friends walked the quarter mile or so to Greg's house and Scott collected the book and put it in his backpack. Then he retraced his steps. Greg had finished college for the week but Scott had a lecture at 8 pm and planned to do some library work first. The evening lecture duplicated one on Tuesday morning and was mostly attended by part time mature students with jobs but Scott preferred it because he had a Friday afternoon tutorial and this way he could have Monday and Tuesday to himself.

As he was passing the bus shelter two figures emerged round the side of it and stood blocking his way. They looked familiar somehow. Then he realised; it was Mark Fox from school and his sidekick Jack Adams. They were three years older than when he'd last seen them as sixteen year olds in 2002 and not in school uniform so he hadn't immediately recognised them.

Hello, Scott, nice to see you again” said Mark, smiling nastily.

Yeah, it's been a while” said a voice behind him. He turned to find Victor Stevens and Dean Lewis, two of Mark's other school friends, behind him. He was trapped on the fairly narrow pavement [sidewalk] between the solid bus shelter and an equally solid brick wall with nowhere to go.

Welcome to Chav Central” said Jack. “Next stop Giro Grove. Too bad I forgot me shellsuit.”

Scott was dismayed to hear his own words from earlier. Denying them would probably only make things worse. “Oh,” he muttered, “did you hear...”

No, not us, someone else” said Mark. “Come into the shelter and meet her. That wasn't just an invitation” he added, sensing Scott was about to demur.

It wasn't hard for four young men to hassle the fifth into the shelter, which contained about a dozen people about his age or thereabouts including the four who'd captured him. There were two other lads he didn't know and seven girls, three of whom he knew from school, Katie Marshall, Sonia Jenkins, and Hillary Price. Scott was pushed to the back of the shelter and the occupants formed themselves into a human wall across the front of it, facing inwards. No-one would be able to see into the shelter from the road and there was no way Scott was going to leave before they chose to let him. He wondered uneasily what he was in for.

This is my sister Cindy” said Mark, introducing one of the girls he didn't know. “I think you've already met.”

Seeing the blank look on Scott's face Cindy explained. “I'm the girl who was stood by the bus stop looking at the timetable when you and your friend walked by earlier. I thought the bus to town was at 6:17 but it's 6:37 so I was early. I heard what you said about my brother so when I saw you coming back I told him.”

We all live on the estate” said Mark, “and we're all getting the bus to town for a night out. Which means all our families and neighbours are chavs and scroungers according to you. That's not very nice to hear. I reckon you owe us something for that. What have you got in that bag?”

Just college stuff” replied Scott. “I don't think there's anything you'd want.”

Let me see” ordered Mark, holding his hand out for the backpack. He rifled through it. “Boring, boring, boring. Ah. What's this? 'Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance?' I didn't know you was into bikes. Is it any good?”

I don't know, I haven't read it yet. But it's not really much about bikes, it's more philosophy I think.”

Oh. Boring then.” Mark put the book back in the backpack, which he tossed onto the bench seat across the back of the shelter. “Well there's nothing there worth having. You'll have to pay us with entertainment. Maybe you can sing us a song or something. Let me think....”

Strip him off!” Cindy demanded excitedly. “That's the kind of thing chavs do isn't it? Let's see what he's got for us girls.”

Well I don't think...” Mark began. Then he stopped and smiled as he thought of something. “No. I'm not getting him naked in the street, that's too much. Not unless he resists anyway, so if he's got any sense he'll co-operate. But you can see his manly chest at least, that's something. Give me your bag Denise” he asked a girl who was carrying a large shoulder bag. He put this on the floor at the front of the shelter.

Now he addressed Scott. “Every time I say a piece of clothing you've got ten seconds to take it off and put it in your bag. If you don't we'll take it off you and put it in Denise's bag. When the bus comes you keep what's in your bag and Denise keeps what's in hers. Anything you want to keep, you'd better make sure it goes in your bag.” He paused for a few seconds, theatrically, letting the tension build then suddenly said “Shoes!”

Scott's shoes were easily the most expensive thing he was wearing and he certainly didn't want the expense of replacing them. It was embarrassing to have to do it by order in front of this crowd but he sat on the bench, untied his shoes, pulled them off and reached for his backpack.

Jacket!” demanded Mark as soon as the shoes were stashed. That was the same calculation. Into the bag it went. “Shirt!” Now Scott hesitated, this was starting to become seriously embarrassing, stripping on command. “Shirt!” repeated Mark. “Okay. Ten, nine, eight, seven.” As Mark counted down some of the lads started grinning with anticipation. Scott faced the inevitable and pulled his shirt off, at least that way it went in his own bag, and hopefully, going by what Mark had said, this should be the end of it. “What do you think of his hairy chest then girls?” asked Mark.

The answers, of course, were variations on the theme of “not much.”

After a few seconds of Scott standing there topless with everyone staring at him suddenly Mark barked out “Trousers!”

That was unthinkable. No way could Scott just meekly remove his trousers in front of all these people. He desperately looked around, searching for a non-existent escape. He accidentally made eye contact with Dean Lewis. “Please say no” begged Dean. “Pretty please. With bells on. Pretty, pretty please.” He smiled. “I want to be the one who takes them off you” he explained. “Of course, there's a risk I might get careless and grab hold of too much, if you know what I mean.”

Of course Scott knew what he meant. It was obvious. He could remove his own trousers (suddenly not quite so unthinkable now) or be stripped naked and left to make his way home sans trousers and underwear (absolutely out of the question!) and miss his lecture as well. He felt slightly sick but forced himself to accept the lesser evil. With shaking hands he started to undo his trousers. Into the bag they went and he stood there facing the group in socks and boxers.

Mark looked him over for a second. Then he wondered “What to do next? It's a choice of two isn't it?” He pointed to Scott's feet. “Eenie” then his crotch “meenie” then alternated pointing from one to the other as he continued:

minie, moe
Socks [pointing to them] or boxers [pointing to those]
I don't know
If it's socks then
there's no show
Eenie, meenie
minie, moe!”

He had taken care to ensure that he was pointing at Scott's boxers as he said the final “moe!” Now he cheerfully said “Good news. You won't have to get your feet dirty. Let's have them boxers off. Now!”

No way!” blurted Scott, panicking. “I can't do that! Anyway, you promised....”

As the derisive laughter at the idea that a chav bully could be expected to keep his promises died down Mark said “I said you won't be naked unless you resist and now you're resisting aren't you? But I'm a man of my word and I'm letting you keep your socks on, even though I don't have to now. Isn't that nice of me?

Now, here's the deal. You take them off and put them in your bag and you get dressed as soon as our bus has gone. Or we take them off you and put them in your bag for you. In which case we take your bag on the bus with us and leave it two stops away. You know, the one by Tesco where all the kids hang out.”

How do I know you won't do that anyway?”

Well, you don't, I suppose. Looks like you'll just have to trust me won't you? But I'm a man of my word, as I said. And what have you got to lose? Do you want to gamble a suspicion against a certainty?”

Put like that, he didn't. Feeling slightly unreal Scott put his right hand down the front of his shorts and cupped his privates between his legs. Then he awkwardly pulled the shorts down and off with his left hand and put them in the bag. He clasped both hands together in front of his crotch and prayed that the bus would get here, like, NOW!

Good boy” said Mark smugly. “Face the front. Now, don't panic, I'm just going to borrow one of your shoe laces that's all.” He rummaged through Scott's bag, pulled out a shoe and removed the lace from it. Then he returned to shoe to the bag and the bag to the bench. “See? Now, put both hands behind your back or we'll tie them behind your back and leave you here, but you'll have your bag and all your stuff.”

Another unthinkable choice. Scott was going to have to find the courage to put his hands behind him and 'voluntarily' expose himself to this bunch of chavs (by their own admission – they said they all lived on the estate and the threat of violence was the only reason he was here) or be forcibly exposed to them and then left tied up for God knows who else to see before he could persuade someone to free him.

No, come on, this is too much. I can't do this. Please. You've had your fun, now leave me alone.”

Mark looked at his watch. “It's 6:35. We're going to leave you alone in two minutes if the bus is on time. It's your choice if you'll be tied up or not. But Cindy wants to see what you've got for the girls and I expect the others do too. And the lads can do with a good laugh to make up for you insulting their families.

Hands behind your back, please. Ten, nine, eight...”

Mark was playing with the shoelace in his hands and watching the look on Scott's face as he counted down slowly. He didn't care whether Scott obeyed him or not at this point, he was going to enjoy what came next either way.

Seven, six, five....”

Scott stared at Mark's hands and the shoelace like a rabbit mesmerised by a stoat. The lace was a visible reminder of the awful fate that awaited him if he didn't find the courage to move his hands. But his hands seemed to have locked themselves together and did not want to move.

Four, three, two....”

Everyone else had gone quiet. They were staring at Scott's hands, looking forward to seeing whatever it was that Scott was so afraid of them seeing and knowing this was guaranteed within seconds no matter what happened.

At the exact moment that Mark got down to “one” Scott made a tremendous effort of will and forced himself to move his hands. He put them behind his back and gripped his left wrist with his right hand, hard, to make sure he'd remember to keep them there.

There was a burst of derisive laughter from the group, then the comments started.

That's not exactly going to make your eyes water, is it?”

Only if you're crying from laughter!”

No wonder he only needed one hand to cover it up!”

How old is he?”

Scott had long known that he was considerably below average in that area and right now the fear and embarrassment he was feeling were not helping matters any. He wondered why people acted like it was a fault; he hadn't caused or chosen it. This lot clearly thought it hysterically funny.

To his great relief the bus pulled up at that moment. He was glad to see it but suffered a spike of anxiety wondering if they really would leave him his backpack and not make off with it. “I'll get on last,” said Mark, “I want to make sure Scotty here stays in position until we're all on.” He stood behind Scott and grabbed his forearms.

The others formed a queue by the bus door. They had to wait while a couple in their forties got off the bus. This left the front of the shelter open to the road, or, currently, to the view of anyone looking out of the windows of the bus that was stopped there. That soon included a group of girls about his own age, probably on a night out as well. One girl noticed him and must have shouted to her friends because they all crowded to the windows, pointing and laughing. Scott couldn't hear what they were saying but assumed it probably wasn't complimentary.

The couple who'd just got off the bus walked across in front of the shelter. They looked amazed and amused at the sight of Scott standing there. “He lost a bet” lied Mark by way of explanation.

Brave lad” commented the man, chuckling. “I wouldn't make that kind of bet if I was hung like he is. Doesn't he know?” His wife just laughed and they walked away.

Finally the last of the queue got onto the bus and Mark let go of Scott's arms. “See you, Scotty. Make sure you stay like this until the bus leaves, I can always get back off it. You've nothing to lose now anyway.” Cowed by this prospect and desperate to make sure it was over Scott stayed where he was as Mark got on the bus and paid his fare. Then the door closed and it started to move off.

Scott spun round instantly to keep his back to the road as he pulled his clothes out of his pack. A couple of passing cars honked their horns. “Nice arse, mate” called somebody from one of them. Scott dressed as fast as possible, he wanted to be gone before anyone decided to call the police. He thought he'd have to walk back to college with a loose shoe but found the lace on the ground where Mark had dropped it.

Walking off he reflected that Greg had called the Zen book “awesome” when he borrowed it. It had better be to be worth this experience. One thing was for sure; he'd give Greg his book back in college. He wasn't coming back to this part of town if he could help it.

The End





Submitted: June 15, 2022

© Copyright 2023 Britguy. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Poor Scott. At least he has a nice arse.

The male bus passenger's comment made me smile even wider. I think it's hilarious when an older man makes fun of a younger guy's equipment.

Thu, June 16th, 2022 4:04pm


Poor Scott indeed. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Thu, June 16th, 2022 5:26pm

Callum white

Brilliant story as always, loved it

Thu, June 16th, 2022 8:43pm


Thanks, Callum. Comments like that inspire me to write more.

Thu, June 16th, 2022 5:21pm

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