Humiliated by the Group

I could hear their laughter echoing off the walls.

I couldn't see them, since my face was buried deep in Shane's hairy armpit, but I could certainly hear them laugh. I tried to pull my head out of the sweaty, musky trap, but his free arm was locked around my upper back in a vice like grip, keeping our chests pressed tightly together. With every struggle, every muffled yell for them to stop, I could hear my girlfriend giggle even harder.

My left arm was wrenched behind me, pinned to my lower back by my girlfriend's weight. My right arm struggled helplessly, but it was sandwiched between Shane's considerable mass and the floor. "Sandwich" was a good way to describe my position in general, actually; Shane with his back on the floor, me sprawled on top of him, my girlfriend pressing down on my back from above.

"You look so fucking stupid!!!" Claire cackled breathlessly, in-between bouts of laughter. "Oh my god, babe, you can't even get out! You're right in his armpit!"

I yanked my head back, desperately trying to give myself some breathing room, but Shane followed my every movement. He deftly maneuvered his thick black hair back onto my nose and mouth, forcing me to inhale more of his scent.

"He's squirmy, Claire. You're right though, he's totally stuck. How long should we keep him like this? Forever?" Another round of laughter bounced around the room. This time, a third voice joined in. The incredulous scoff was unmistakably that of my girlfriend's roommate, Sam. My face burned red, reminded that there were spectators to this ordeal. After a moment, my reprieve came.

"Alriiiiiight, that's enough Shane. Let my wimpy boyfriend go." I felt her hands release my left arm, and the weight of her body lift off me. I immediately used my newfound freedom to wrench my face free of Shane, though he continued to hold onto my torso, locking my body in place. I glared at him, my face mere inches from his. I could feel that my cheeks were crimson with embarrassment, and I was too flustered to even speak.

"Hm, should I really let him go, though? He looks pretty mad, C." Shane replied, a bemused look on his face.

"He's not mad." I could see Claire rejoining the other guests over by the bar out the corner of my eye. "-just emasculated." She punctuated that last point with a wink in my direction. A flurry of shame wracked through my body. I opened my mouth to retort, to offer some defense of myself, but Shane cut me off.

"Alright, I'll take your word for it. You're off the hook, Jay, but only because Claire said so." He roughly pushed me off him, then stood up and casually sauntered over to the bar. He took a position next to Claire, and they shared a smile. "You wouldn't mind making me one of those?" He asked, gesturing to the gin and tonic she was preparing for herself.

"Not at all, hun." Claire retrieved another tumbler from under the bar, then looked to me inquisitively.

I could only stare back at her. After a moment of stunned inaction, I picked myself up off the ground and wiped Shane's sweat from my mouth. The room had an awkward tension in the air as everyone tried to process what just happened. I looked from face to face, trying to find some clue as to how I should handle the situation, some indication that someone here was on my side. Thomas and Angie sat on the couch, facing me. They were a couple, high school sweethearts that tied the knot right after graduating. Thomas was tall, broad shouldered and conventionally handsome in way that bordered on irritating. Angie was tall as well, perhaps only a few inches shorter than her husband, and equally as attractive. Thick, red curls accented her pale, freckled face, and her brown eyes were somehow always piercing.

They had always been at least polite to me, but in this moment they only looked on, aghast. Thomas was about as confused and uncomfortable as me; his square face fixed in a look of disbelief at what he had just witnessed. Angie, on the other hand, didn't even try to hide her disgust. While Thomas averted his gaze from mine, pretending to check his phone, Angie met my eyes without dropping them. I could tell exactly what she was thinking, just from that stare:

You're pathetic.

I quickly dropped my gaze as a new wave of humiliation washed over me. How did this happen? How did I let this happen?

It started innocently enough; Shane and I had always had a sort of friendly rivalry, ever since Claire introduced the two of us. We'd make jokes at the other's expense, and when drinks were involved our insults usually escalated to some form of playful rough housing. We might grapple with one another for a few minutes, or arm wrestle, or whatever else. It never went too far, and in general we got along, but...I could always tell our animosity for one another was only semi-ironic. He definitely thought I was a pussy, I definitely thought he was kind of an asshole. But since we ran in the same circles, we always hid our disdain for one another well enough.

That particular night, we had all had a few. We hoped from bar to bar for a few hours before deciding that it was cheaper to drink the liquor we had at home, and so made a pilgrimage to Claire's place sometime around 11pm. Shane had been on a warpath since bar number one; he heckled me while I played Claire in pool, repeatedly called me a "beta male", and even loudly insinuated that I had a small penis after I wouldn't buy him a round. For Shane, this was pretty typical behavior, if not dialed up a bit. I matched him beer for beer, and soon enough I was firing back insults and taunts of my own. I told him he had the reading level of a third grader, that he would never find a job he couldn't fuck up, etc. He stretched his arms over his head while I was standing next to him, and I reminded him of the wonders of showers and deodorant.

I would come to regret that last insult.

The rest of the group rolled their eyes at our blatant dick measuring contest, except Claire, who only egged us both on. While she always seemed to enjoy it when Shane and I went at it, that night she seemed absolutely determined to make us enemies.

"Babe, you gonna take that from him?"

"Shane, what were you saying about Jay's dick earlier?"

"Hey, which one of you guys would win in a fight?"

It was that last one that sealed both our fates. Obviously, each of us had our own answer to the question. "Of course I would win a fight against the manlet. Not even a question." Shane scoffed before finishing his beer. While I'm not short, Shane does have a few inches on me, and more than a few pounds. It always bothered me when people mocked my height, though, and he knew it. "Oh, fuck off. Having a slightly longer skeleton doesn't make you fucking tough, asshole." Came my retort.

We went back and forth like that for a while, until finally the killing blow was delivered:

"I think Shane would win." Claire said, with a wink in my direction. The humiliated knot in my stomach only tightened at that remark. I took one more look at Shane, whose face was now plastered with a shit eating grin, and immediately charged him.

He laughed as I wrestled him to the ground, still throwing out insults as he grappled for control. It was evenly matched for a time; despite his size advantage, I've always been scrappy, and I was spurred on by Claire's comments. Before long, I had him flipped onto his back, with my dominant arm trapped under him. We both wrestled with our free hand for control, but it seemed like we were finally at an impasse. Normally when this happens, someone steps in to break it up. We both pretend we to want to continue, but are secretly happy that we could save face with a draw. This is what I was expecting; any second now Thomas would step forward and say "Come on, guys, that's enough" and we would laugh about it over the next round of tequila shots. But instead, as I lay there ineffectually grappling with my adversary--

--I felt two hands grab my free arm and yank it behind my back. The scent of her perfume flooded my nostrils even before I heard her beautiful laugh in my ear. A second later, as if it were choreographed, Shane lifted his arm above his head and Claire pressed down with all her weight, trapping me in his sweaty pit.

So, there I was, humiliated, confused, and worst of all, betrayed. I looked back to Claire, still holding the rocks glass as if to say want another? She had an innocent look in her eyes, as if this sort of thing happened every time we hung out with her friends, as if nothing had happened at all. I could do nothing but stare back blankly at her. She apparently took my silence as a yes, and started pouring one for me as well.

"Come here, darling." She purred. "For you." She held the drink out with one hand and beckoned me to come with the other. Her index finger pointed to the spot next to her, like how you'd order a dog to come. I stood there in the center of the room for a moment longer, unsure of myself. I was a little freaked out by what just happened, but calling attention to it, making it known that it upset me...that somehow seemed even more embarrassing. Was this an out? Could we all just pretend that my girlfriend didn't just help another man humiliate me? So, practically without thinking about it, I found myself walking over to the very spot Claire had specified. She flashed me her signature, beautiful smile, and handed me the G&T.

"Here you go, babe."

"Th-thanks." I muttered. I brought the glass to my lips and took a sip.

"That should help wash the taste of Shane's armpit out of your mouth." The room immediately burst into laughter, and any hope I had of putting the incident behind me disappeared. I set the glass down and started to walk away from the bar, but Claire grabbed my wrist.

"Babe, come on. I'm just joking." I tried to gently shake her off, but her grip was firm. "Baaaaaabe." She whined. "Don't go, I'm sorry. Are you gonna be pouty about this?" She said it with faux-pleading eyes and slight smile on her face, not taking it seriously in the slightest.

"Please let go. I'm gonna call it for the night, I'm tired anywa--" I was cut off by a chorus of jeers from Claire, Shane, and Sam.

"Don't be a pussy. You made out with Shane's armpit; you didn't get your balls chopped off." The snarky reply came rolling out of Sam's bright red lips. I regard her with a scowl. A shaved head, black platform shoes, slayer t-shirt; everything about Sam screamed "punk", and she had the personality to match. I had always found her abrasive, which I think was sort of the point. "Man up, Jay. Nights' just getting started."

"Seriously, don't make a big deal out of this. We never get to see each other anymore," Angie chimed in, irritation plainly apparent in her voice. "If you leave now, it'll just be a domino effect. We'll all be in our PJ's in the next thirty minutes."

I tried to pull my arm from Claire again, with a little more force this time. She responded by wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me close. "See? The group has spoken, you can't leave. I won't let you." She began to nibble gently up and down my neck, placing tiny, rapid kisses from earlobe to shoulder. It was a move she knew sent ticklish sensations all throughout my body, and had the effect of making me more giggly and pliable.

"Hey, s-staha-ap. That tickles." I protested.

"Only if you promise to stay." Claire doubled the speed of her nibbling, and started spidering her fingers up and down my exposed rib cage.

"Eek!" The high pitch squeal left my mouth before I had a chance to stop it. It didn't sound like anything that could come out of a fully-grown man, but somehow I managed. This prompted another round of laughter from the peanut gallery. Claire had to put a hand over her mouth to stop her from cackling, and I used the opportunity to pull myself away.

"Claire, when were you going to introduce me to your girlfriend? She makes such cute noises when you tickle her." Sam said with a giggle, running a hand over her buzz cut.

"Jay is confirmed a chick. Maybe that's why I beat you so easy?" Shane added, laughing at his own joke.

"Fuck you guys, I'm out of here." I made for the door, but Shane stepped in front of me.

"Oh, come on, drop the act. Claire said you're staying, and you're the most whipped dude I know. You're not going anywhere." He said this so casually, like there was no doubt in anyone's mind that I would disobey my girlfriend's wishes.

"Get out of my way, man. I'm not in the mood." I replied. I tried to step around him, but he pushed me back with one arm. Normally, this would have started another round of "drunken WWE", but in light of recent events, I couldn't bring myself to make physical contact with him.

"Better not mess with him, babe. He might make you smell his pits again." Said Claire. I didn't turn around to face her, but I could hear the slightly sadistic smile in her words.

"And now he knows you're ticklish, too. I wouldn't have bet on you before, but I definitely wouldn't now." Angie added with a smirk.

Shane's face lit up with pride. "How 'bout it, tickle-boy? Wanna go another round?" He lifted both arms over his head, revealing the thick, black puffs of hair underneath, as if to punctuate the threat. I tried to look tough outwardly, but the sight of his sweaty hollows made my stomach churn. My cheeks immediately flushed red--this was Shane, after all, I wasn't scared of this asshole. Still though, the thought of being forced back into that humiliating position...

"I can take you, Shane," I bluffed through my uncertainty, "The only reason you won is because Claire helped you. It wasn't a fair fight."

He just laughed in response. "Who said it was gonna be a fair fight this time?" He looked at Claire expectantly.

"If Jay tries to leave, I'm tickling him until he pisses himself." Claire stuck her tongue out at me playfully. "You can hold him down for me, Shane." I physically cringed at the thought. What the hell was happening? Despite her playing it off as a joke, she was consistently taking Shane's side, like she enjoyed watching him dominate me.

"I'll help too!" Said Sam. "I've always wanted to put someone in a head lock. And no offense Jay, but you're pretty head-lockable."

Great. Another adversary to face off against.

"Totally." Claire responded, brushing her hair behind one ear. "How about you, Thomas? You wanna help punish my boyfriend?"

I turned to Thomas. I tried to seem unbothered, like I was in on the joke with the rest of them, but I could tell that he saw the pleading look in my eyes. He just stared back, looking a little unsure of himself.

"Uhhh..." He muttered. Looking from Angie, to Claire, to me. Angie leaned over and whispered something in his ear, placing a hand on his inner thigh as she did so. "Ahem--yeah." He sputtered. "I'll pin him down for you. Shouldn't be too hard, I'm twice his size."

My heart rate probably doubled in that moment. I saw Angie shoot a knowing smirk in Claire's direction, but my girlfriend's face was all innocence when I turned to look at her.

"Sounds like you have your work cut out for you. It's four on one."

"We can have a competition!" Said Sam gleefully. "Who can tickle the girliest sound out of him!"

"Great Idea, Sammy." Replied Claire, with a glint in her eye. "Or we could see who armpits he likes smelling the least." For the first time all night, the "innocent routine" fully dropped from Claire's face, if only for a moment. What I saw there scared me; it was a crueler side to her, one that usually only reared its head while we were alone in bedroom.

"So, how about it darling? You going to be a good boy and stick around?" Claire walked over to me and cupped my face with her hands. She gave my cheeks a little squeeze.

"Fine." I mumbled, turning my head away.

She gripped my cheeks a little harder, pulling my focus back to her. "I didn't hear you."

"I-I'll stay." Those were the words coming out of my mouth, but all I could think was what the fuck is happening right now.

Claire pulled me into a hug. "Great! I knew you'd come around." She gave me a big kiss on the cheek. Grabbing me by the hand, she led me back to the bar and sat me down on a stool. She and Shane took the seats on either side of me, each of them sitting just a little too close. Claire changed the subject, casually asking Thomas how his work was going, gossiping with Sam about this and that, joking around with Shane about his drunken exploits. Everyone seemed to return to normal, and for the most part I was ignored as the old friends caught up and reminisced. I noticed with annoyance that Shane kept "innocently" stretching his arms over his head, occasionally leaning closer to me as he did so. I would try to lean away from him as he did so, but Claire was on my other side, and she wouldn't budge an inch. Every few seconds, I caught of another whiff of his pits. I knew he was doing it on purpose, but I couldn't risk riling him up again. So, I just sat there, smelling another man's armpits and stewing in my humiliation.

After a natural lull in the conversation, Claire spoke up. "Hey, Angie. What was that game you were talking about earlier? The one with the challenges and stuff?"

"Oh, Punishments? Thanks for reminding me, we totally have to play it." Angie responded. She started digging through her purse. "Circle up on the rug there, that's enough space."

"Punishments? Sounds kinky, what is it?" Inquired Sam. Angie and Thomas walked to the center of the room and sat down.

"So basically," said Angie, placing a deck of cards on the carpet, "There's this deck of challenge cards--they have stuff on them like, balance an egg on your head for 30 seconds, or name three countries beginning with the letter J, or whatever. If you can do the challenge, great, you get a point. If not--" She whipped out a stack of blank cards. "You get a punishment. Now, the game comes with default punishments, but they are soooo boring. The way I play, we all write our own."

"We write the punishments for each other, she means." Thomas corrected.

"That's right. Like, we each write a couple punishments for each other person in the group, then we shuffle our cards together. Then they draw a card at random, and they have to do whatever it says! It's the best, trust me. Thomas loves it, right honey?" Thomas nodded. "Of course he does. Alright, let's get started. Everyone write out at least one punishment for every one here. Make them good!"

Angie passed around pens and blank cards, and we all got to work. I had no idea what to put, but I was happy not to be the center of attention. I wrote be silent for an entire hour for Sam, go to the basement and stay there till morning for Shane. They probably wouldn't do it, but that seemed like the point of the game. For Claire I went cutesy with it (give your handsome boyfriend a back massage), and for Angie and Thomas I just wrote some generic, mild dares.

I looked around the room at my friends as they scribbled away, apparently all deep in thought. I wonder what kinds of punishments they were writing for me?

I didn't have to wait long to find out.

"Ok, everyone distribute your punishment cards. Alright, now shuffle them. No peeking!" Angie clapped her hands together in excitement. "Ok, sooooo...Thomas, why don't you go first."

"Sure thing." He reached for a challenge card. "'Get three objects from the other players. If you can juggle them, you get a point.' Seems easy enough."

I donated a shoe, Claire a pillow, and Angie her purse. Predictably, he couldn't do it, and all three objects came crashing down on his head.

"Aw, better luck next time!" Laughed Angie. "Time for your punishment!"

"Alright, alright. That shoe was bullshit, Jay." Thomas drew a card. "Take your shirt off, and keep it off for the rest of the night." He glanced at Angie. "I think I know who wrote this one." She smiled back at him, feigning ignorance. Thomas removed his t-shirt and threw it to the side, revealing thick, muscled arms and a chest covered in dark black hair. Angie ran her fingers through it, tracing the outline of his pecs with her nails. "Mmm. I like this game." She and Claire giggled like schoolgirls. He was much more muscular than me, and even sitting down I could clearly see his six pack. I caught Claire staring and shot her a look, but she just winked at me. Somehow, I felt even more self-conscious.