Neighborly Ch. 03

The incredible discomfort I felt throughout my school day drove me to the boy's room where I took to a stall to undo my pants, and check on the state of my member. I frequently sat on the cusp between discomfort and pain thanks to the lack of space Ellen granted me for an erection. There my dick sat limp, helpless, and locked in a steel chastity cage fit just right for me. After getting caught stealing a pair of Ellen's panties, she put an end to my perversion the very next day with a tiny brass lock only to be freed with the key Ellen wore dangling around her neck. Where rush shipping stood as an impressive feat of mankind, it appeared to me as a burden.

I couldn't believe the mess I found myself in; me, a spry 18-year-old young man, eager to earn my degree this year and take hold of my adulthood as I leave my mother's nest to meet a woman and start a life of my own can't even please any women I might meet- let alone masturbate when I often feel the urge- let alone even comfortably have an erection to begin with- let alone even pee standing up like a real man. All because of this awful, tight, absolutely humiliating chastity device my neighbor locked me into. But this was the only way to keep Ellen quiet from telling my mother about my panty raid, and to keep the embarrassing photos of me kissing her feet on her phone and out of the eyes of my peers.

My friends caught on to my distracted mind, asking me "What's wrong?" and "Something seems off about you," along with "you don't seem like yourself." Getting sentenced to servitude for my neighbor was embarrassing enough, kissing feet was embarrassing enough, but telling anybody that my manhood (arguably boyhood) was locked and deemed inaccessible even to myself without permission transcended humiliation and dove straight into pathetic. I simply told them "I don't feel so good."

As the day went on, hearing murmurs of "something, something, superintendent visiting" filtered through my ears as unimportant; not even acknowledging the fact that I didn't even know what a superintendent was, or that our school (district) had one. It became clear how crucial this information was- to me, specifically- when I learned who that person is.

"Hi Superintendent Ellen!" my entire homeroom class greeted in unison- minus myself who stared at her wide-eyed in horror.

"Good afternoon class," Ellen said, stopping by before the end of the day. "I wanted to take this opportunity today to visit the homerooms, and share with you all some incredibly important information."

Ellen locked eyes with me, turning my face pale as if she controlled its color altogether. To an extent, she damn well did. I scrambled in my head to think of anything and everything I might've done wrong yesterday: I arrived on time, took a selfie to prove it, got all my chores done (much easier without laundry slowing me down), rubbed her putrid feet all evening without so much as a wince, and didn't express any complaints I had (tucked away silent in my obedient, terrified mind) when she tossed me the chastity device to put on- no backtalk about it at all. What could I have done that might warrant her to publicly humiliate me, displaying the photographic evidence of my pathetic brown-nosing to her for all the class to see like a classroom lecture? I sunk into my chair, hiding my face behind a book until my teacher demanded, "Jack! Pay attention. Superintendent Ellen has something to show to us," while Ellen set up her presentation on the smart board.

"Everything okay, Jack?" Ellen asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"I just..." didn't want to be there frankly, but told her: "... don't feel so good."

"Aw," she cooed, "What a hard working student you are, coming to school under the weather. I appreciate your desire to learn, Jack, but if you come to school sick, you put your fellow classmates at risk of getting sick too and missing out on their education." When her PowerPoint presentation was fully set up- the topic inconspicuous with a blank cover page- she approached my desk before beginning. "You should really stay home next time. Or if your parents can't stay to take care of you, see if a neighbor will," Ellen teased with a wink.

I stared back blank and afraid, following up with a newly ingrained, habitual response: "Yes, Ms. Ellen." The key to my member's freedom dangled before me in arms reach. I struggled to make eye contact with her as my fixation constantly pulled me to the charm on her necklace.

Ellen gave a great big smile of bubbling pride. "Good boy," she added, blushing my cheeks with pink embarrassment. "Now then," her hips sauntered away back and forth like a hypnotic pendulum- not only for me, but for all the boys who whispered lust to each other in regard to the (terrifying, but arguably) beautiful spectacle that is Ellen. "Today, I wanted to share some exciting information with you."

I damn near threw up in my anxiety as her thumb met with the remote of the smart board to proceed to the next slide. I closed my eyes like the top hill of a rollercoaster, anticipating the plunge into humiliation at any moment.

"Jack..." Ellen cooed in a soft, sing-songy tone, "Pay attention, please."

The class giggled. Little did they know, they were just warming up.

The PowerPoint slide proceeded in unison with a deep breath I took and held in, releasing when I found that, "The district is revamping our sexual education classes," according to Ellen. "Starting next semester, instead of just one sex ed. credit necessary to graduate, we're including it in our common core curriculum. That means, you'll be taking it every year as you would math or English."

I damn near threw up in my relief as her thumb met with the remote of the smart board to free me from my anxiety. No doubt- important student information or not- Ellen broke the news this way in order to taunt me. She could have easily sent an email, or passed out a pamphlet- hell, she could have made it a morning announcement. But she chose to come into my homeroom and touch on the topics these sex ed. classes would cover:

"Obviously sex," she and the class shared a laugh, "but also protection, birth control, masturbation," Ellen locked onto me at this bullet point and into, "abstinence, all to name a few."

The world around me dissolved into my peripherals, filtered through my eyes as unimportant. The only object of significance lay just above the breasts of my neighbor, my superintendent, my captor: Ms. Ellen, Superintendent.