Strip-Humiliation of Abusive Male Teacher, Part 1

We knew something was wrong with our math grades at Aster Community College because of the grades themselves, and the way us boys talked about them. Casey got a B+ but didn’t act proud of it. Arnold got a C but wasn’t ashamed of it. Ryder, who hardly ever showed up for class, got an A and refused to talk about it.

The teacher was Professor Homer Pettie, a slim and good-looking young professor with short curly brown hair and green eyes, but he was mostly known for his arrogance and harsh manner. Maybe his looks or his smarts made him think he was something special, but no one liked him. 

Finally we figured out the puzzle. My buddy Kenan, who was a math whiz, and got a C-, got the first helpful piece of data which Casey had confided in him.

“Casey told me that Prof. Pettie kept him after class to talk about his grades and how he had to try harder. When he said ‘harder’ he touched his crotch. During their conversation, he unzipped his pants. His cocked popped up through the fly of his boxers and Casey just stared. Long story short, he got Casey to blow him. He went from a D to a B+.”

We talked to several of the males in the class and it was the same story. Ryder admitted that he had been lured to Homer’s house to pick up some makeup homework, and ended up being promised a good grade in exchange for sucking the professor’s cock. And he did it.

But it got worse, the more we figured it out. I was the first one to identify the next level of Homer’s evil.

“Look,” I told Kenan, Casey, and Ryder. “It isn’t just that he’s offering to help flunking students if they do sex with him. The girls in the class aren’t affected at all. And if they don’t mind my saying so, the average-looking boys aren’t either. Arnold is kind of fat and no dreamboat, and he got a C and Homer didn’t go near him. Casey and Ryder—you’re the best-looking boys in the class and you’re tennis players. Don’t you see what Homer is doing? He is deliberately flunking only the cute males he is lusting after, to take advantage ofyou!”

“He could lose his job for this, or get arrested,” Ryder said. “We can report him, you know.”

“If he gets fired or goes into the justice system, we’ll lose sight of him,” Kenan argued. “Is there a way we can get our personal revenge against him?”

There sure was!

Only two days later, Professor Pettie was in my bedroom at home. My parents were away for a few days. I was a good student and good looking, not as much as some other boys, but my bet was that Pettie would fall for a boy-next-door type with average grades. I’d told him that I heard some students got better grades because of special “tutoring” he offered … and he gave me a look. Might he offer me some tutoring at home? He said “Sure!”

And the arrogant, unethical jerk lost no time. After ringing the doorbell and saying that he had walked rather than driven the six blocks from the community college (I LOVED hearing that … you’ll see why), I invited him upstairs to my room. He immediately unzipped his pants and smiled at me.

“Oh no, sir, since we’re here and have all afternoon, let’s do it right. Why not take off your clothes and we can get into bed?”

And he started undressing with an even bigger smile on his face. Stupid arrogant jerk! He did not stop to think that this was immoral, unethical, and indiscreet—visiting a student’s home and getting nearly naked! Today he was wearing white Hanes briefs. All he could think of was that he was going to get laid. Idiot. He lay down on my bed in just his briefs and socks.

“You boys can’t put down those phones! Do you ever stop texting? C’mon, boy, lose those clothes and get over here. I got something for you.”

I wasn’t texting—I was taking photos of the stupid math teacher in his underpants. He was already in my trap. I went over to him and started undressing. He stared with utter delight at my bare smooth chest and the waistband of my white boxers—so happy that he never realized that Casey had crawled into the room on his hands and knees and grabbed his clothes, which I had made sure to drop on the floor, and retreated with them. Casey, Ryder, and Kenan had been waiting in the adjacent bathroom for half an hour.

When I was down to just my boxer shorts—tapered with v-cuts at the side—I lay down beside him and we hugged for a minute. He was super aroused. I pulled my cock out of the fly and said, “Let’s see you suck this, Homer! Since we’re in bed now I guess I don’t have to call you professor?”

“Yeah, uh, wait a sec,” he said, as I KNEW he would, “Uh, buddy, I like to be the top here, you got a nice unit there, but you’re the one who does the sucking.”

“No, Homer, you’re here not just for fun but to learn a lesson. You are the one being tutored—you’re the bottom boy today.”

“You little prick, are you bossing me around?”

This arrogant jerk had no idea that Casey and Ryder were busy in the bathroom with sharp scissors destroying his clothes, slicing off the pant legs, cutting out the crotch and the seat, and turning his button-down shirt and undershirt into rags.

“Yes, Homer, I’m bossing you around, because you are going to suck my dick and I’m going to take pictures of you doing it. Because I’ve got the goods on you. Or rather, WE have the goods on you!”

He looked around suddenly. “You have me figured out wrong, boy. Hey … where are my clothes? Where are they?”

He jumped off the bed and was looking all around. He stared at me looking really worried. The first crack in his confidence … how sweet!

“Hey guys,” I called out, “do you know anything about Professor Pettie’s clothes?”

All three of them filed into the bedroom and Homer looked like he’d seen a ghost. And then they tossed the rags of his ruined clothes at him.

“You recognize any of these fellows you abused, Homer?” I asked. 

“You little bastards! You tricked me!” He finally got it, looking at each of us, and all around the room, and then down at his Hanes briefs. And I could see him thinking … Oh fuck, my car is six blocks away in the school parking lot!

And he was even more of an arrogant jerk than I thought. He still thought he could worm his way out of it!

“Hey, I did nothing wrong. You’re all adults and you all consented. You wanted good grades, and you got them. It was fair and square. No one got hurt.”

“Then you won’t mind us telling the college president and his whole staff what you did?” Kenan asked. “I mean, trading grades for blowjobs, but not just what you did to these guys, but what you’re going to do now. Because now you are going to suck their cocks and we are going to have some pretty pictures and video clips. Right?”

“Right!” I said. “Right Casey, right, Ryder?”

Homer looked petrified. He just stood there, out of ammo. Screwed.

“You bet!” said Casey. I want to go first.” He undid his belt and started to take his pants off.

“No, Casey, pull your pants down but don’t take them off,” said Kenan, always the smartest guy in the room. “Our sneaky professor here might try and grab your pants and escape. So everyone keep your clothes on … partly on, anyway. We have to make sure our abusive jerk of a teacher goes back to the college parking lot in just his adorable tighty-whities.”

Homer glared at us all with pure hatred. Even better, he was sweating … beads of sweat on his forehead, but also we could smell the fear from his sweaty armpits. The indignity of being threatened by his own students, trapped in my bedroom in his underwear, knowing that he would be sexually humiliated at least four times, and filmed, and blackmailed.

“Please, no,” he begged. “Anything … I’ll do anything. I’m really sorry, guys. Please just let me go. I’ll never do it again.”

“You’ll do ‘anything’? ‘Anything’ is a big category, where I come from,” said Kenan. “’Anything’ includes kissing our balls and sucking our cocks and officially becoming our butt boy.”

And oh boy, he did. He got on his knees for each one of us, and we took pictures the whole time. He was a mess when it was all over, especially his hair and face. We let him wash up but kept a hard line that we would not let him have a stitch of clothing to cover his shame. The three other guys followed him back to the community college to enjoy every minute of his humiliating jog back to his car in nothing but his white briefs. And of course they took plenty of pictures.

The best part was the next day when Casey sat in the front row for Homer’s morning class. Homer blushed like crazy when Casey grinned at him and especially when Homer apologized to the class for his hoarse voice, because, as he said, “I have kind of a sore throat.” You bet he did!