Sprout Ch. 05

All characters are 18 or older.

The bathroom stall door creaked as I swayed in the air, hanging by a belt loop that Mackenzie had unceremoniously strung through a hook on the door.

Self-consciously, I looked down and realized my now-flaccid cock was sticking out of the top of my unbuttoned pants along with the waistband of Mac's panties. And that my t-shirt was bunched up around my neck -- above the bra I was now wearing!

Worried someone would walk in and see, I put my arms back through the sleeves and pulled the shirt down. I did my best to stuff my dick in my pants, but I couldn't fasten the button because the waist was too tight from hanging.

I tried a few more times to twist and reach behind myself to free my pants from the hook, but to no avail. I was completely stuck.

"Help!" I cried.

I called out a few more times but no one heard me.

Despair set in. How much worse could this get?

And then anger. I would absolutely pummel the bitch next time I saw her!

Then I thought about how fast she had moved. How easily she shoved my head in the toilet. How effortlessly she lifted and hung me from a hook -- six feet in the air.

I wouldn't stand a chance against her.

"Goddamnit!!!" I screamed.

And that's when another student finally walked in.

"Whoa, dude! What the fuck happened here!?" he cried out.

Then he turned and walked back to the door.

"Hey Jimmy! Thad! You have to see this!"

To my humiliation, three guys walked in and burst out laughing. Then one of them seemed to have a moment of humanity.

"Well, we should probably get him down."

The three came over and lifted me, managing to extricate my pants from the hook. Upon setting me down, one asked:

"Um, dude, so how did you get up there?"

I couldn't tell them the truth, so instead I blurted out:

"A football player thought it would be funny."

I felt a pang of regret as I said it. My best friend Greg was a football player, and his teammates had always been totally cool to me. I felt awful throwing them under the bus.

"Do you know which one? We can help you report it," one guy said.

"Ah, don't worry about it, it wasn't a big deal," I answered casting a downward glance. "Um, thanks a lot for helping me out."

I turned away, went to the sink and splashed water all over my face and hair, trying to clean off the smell of toilet water from the swirly Mac had given me. Then I balled up a ton of paper towel and did my best to dry off. By then the three guys had left, and I made for the door as well.

Then I stopped in my tracks with a knot in my stomach. Something was missing. With a resigned sigh, I doubled back to the bathroom stall, picked up Mackenzie's cum-soaked sock from the floor, thought about it for a second and slipped it back on. Then I slid on my shoes and walked out.

***

I decided to skip lecture because I was too traumatized to think straight and I didn't want to see Mackenzie again, even if I was sure she would leave me alone.

As I walked home, all I could think about was the fact that things just kept getting worse. Every time I saw her, I fell into a trap of uncontrolled lust. And each time she played me harder. Ruining my orgasms was no longer enough -- now she was ramming my head in toilets, giving me wedgies and lifting me in the air like a rumpled shirt to hang me on hooks. I felt totally emasculated. And helpless.

When I got home, I saw a note on the kitchen table from Greg that he would be spending the night at Mac's place. I also noticed that her backpack was gone. I sighed out loud with relief.

I went into my room and decided to change my clothes -- who knew what kind of germs might be on me from the toilet? I flipped open the closet door and took off my pants and shirt. Then I noticed myself in the mirror.

The bra straps looked loose on me. Mackenzie's chest was no doubt thicker than mine. And the lace cups just kind of sagged, devoid of anything to fill them. Then for some reason, I wriggled my hips and remembered what Mac had said about me having a petite little girl figure. My thoughts began to stray. I did actually look kind of good in the set...

"Fuck!" I yelled out loud, slamming the closet door.

I stripped off her underwear and flung it to the floor. I immediately felt vulnerable and uneasy.

You can only take it off to shower and use the bathroom...

I could hear her speaking the conditions of our bet inside my mind. And I felt compelled to take a shower. My rational side kicked in and I knew it was a good idea to clean off after the swirly, so I walked across the hall and took a long hot shower.

Once dried, I returned to my room and looked at her clothes on my floor. My heart thumped with dread. Is there a chance she comes by tonight to check?

Imagine if I caught you with my panties off...

After thinking long and hard, I finally bent down and picked them up. I put on the bra and managed to figure out the clasp. Then I pulled up the panties. As the thong hit my ass, I was immediately brought back to the moment in the bathroom when she teased me with it in my crack.

I reached behind my back and tugged the waistband up and to the sides as she had done. Then I brought a finger up and rubbed the lace bra cup against my nipple. My head spun and before I knew it, I was filling one of her socks with a fresh load of spunk.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and put my face in my hands. What is wrong with me?

When I finally recovered from the bout of self-pity, I remembered my Shakespeare paper was due before class tomorrow. And that I would have a distraction-free evening ahead of me with Greg and Mac out. I found the picture I had taken of Mackenzie's paper outline on my phone, pulled out my laptop and got to work.

***

The next day, I walked into the discussion section for my Shakespeare class. Whilst the lecture was huge, there were only 15 students per section, facilitated by a graduate teaching assistant. The classroom was in the main liberal arts building which was the busiest on campus with tons of rooms off of long hallways, reminding me of my high school.

As usual, the TA had arranged the desks in a circle to facilitate a more active conversation. I took a seat and thought about the paper I had turned in electronically the night before. It seemed a little odd that Shakespeare would tackle such an avant-garde theme as homosexuality hundreds of years ago. Maybe that's why he was still so relevant today?

I was startled from my thoughts when I heard a shoe hit the floor. I'd been so absorbed that I didn't realize I was staring at a girl's feet across from me. One of her grey pointy-toed flats had fallen off. I watched as her light pink stocking-clad foot searched around for it. Her calves were shapely, and her foot had a nice arch...

Damn it! Get a hold of yourself! You were never into feet before!

I managed to unglue my eyes from her pretty feet and looked up to see a pig-tailed brunette in horn-rimmed glasses. She had on a pink and grey plaid skirt and a bulky pink cotton sweater. She was cute in a geeky preppy sort of way. Something about her was familiar. She looked back at me with an awkward smile.

Shit! It was the nerdy girl from the student union who watched me lick drops of Frosty off Mackenzie's foot! I'd never noticed her in class until now.

I sunk into my seat and looked away. It suddenly felt like everyone on campus must know what a degenerate I'd become. I was relieved when the TA started the class.

"Hi folks! I got all your papers last night -- thank you! Now would anyone like to volunteer and share something about what they wrote?"

While I usually avoided raising my hand, I was suddenly considering it. I felt more confident having copied Mackenzie's work. And perhaps this could be an opportunity to impress the girl across from me, and maybe not seem like such a perverted loser. I raised my hand.

"Mr. Saplinger," said the teacher, pointing at me.

Just then, the door to the classroom opened out of view behind me.

"Excuse me," the TA said and stepped toward the door.

A quiet unintelligible conversation ensued behind me. I was grateful for a moment to gather my thoughts on what I would say. Then the TA spoke again, just as a chair pulled out next to me.

"Folks, we have a new student to welcome to our circle. Due to a scheduling conflict with another class she'll be joining our discussion section from now on."

I twitched as my nose detected a familiar scent, then a voice spoke to my right:

"Hi everyone! I'm Mackenzie. Sorry for the interruption."

My entire body went rigid. Including my cock.

"All right, where were we?" said the teacher. "Oh yes, Mr. Saplinger, you may continue."

Blood rushed to my head, and I had a sudden urge to scream out loud and run away. But somehow, I managed to remember what I had planned to say.

"Well, um, my paper is about the hidden side of Hamlet and how he was actually gay and in love with Horatio. And that behind his desire for revenge against his uncle for killing his father was also a fear that his uncle might expose his homosexuality."

"Huh," said the teacher, seemingly at a loss for words.

Had I just opened his mind to a totally new idea? Had Mackenzie's notes made me seem brilliant?

"Would anyone like to comment on Mr. Saplinger's, um, unique interpretation?"

I saw Mac's hand go up next to me.

"Yes, Ms. Morris?"

"Being a practicing bisexual myself..." Mackenzie said then paused, and I heard a few throats clear and chairs squeak before she continued, "...I'm as LGBTQ+ woke as they come. But I frankly think Mr. Sapling is barking up the wrong tree here, maybe projecting his own feelings and proclivities onto the story. Because that's absolutely not what Hamlet is about."

My stomach dropped. She had written down exactly what I just said for her own paper! Unless...unless she had left her bag there on purpose, knowing I couldn't resist snooping? Oh my God.

"I have to agree with Ms. Morris on this one, Mr. Saplinger," the TA said with a somber tone, then seeing my face sink he continued. "If you would like to use the weekend to rewrite the paper, I'd be happy to let you turn it in Monday."

"Is that really fair, sir, given all the work the rest of us have put in to meet the deadline?" Mackenzie asked with annoyance.

The TA just glared at her.

"Thank you, sir," I said meekly.

I glanced up to see the nerdy girl looking at me. Her lips pursed into a sympathetic smile.

I let my eyes drop down to my desk. Mac had fucking humiliated me again. And she'd tried to sabotage my grade. How low would she go? And did she say bisexual? My cock jumped.

And what did she mean by my proclivities? I felt my unit rub against her lace panties. Fuck, she was insinuating to the class that I'm gay!

I tried to calm down. At least I would have a chance to fix the paper. But that didn't mean it would be any easier to write. Maybe I can get some ideas from the other students talking about their papers?

Just as the next person started to speak, I heard a click to my right and a small squirt. Then a strong scent filled my nose. Mac's lotion!

I flashed a look to the side and saw her rubbing it up and down her arms. She was wearing a tight white tank top that showed her bare tan arms all the way to her shoulders. I noticed how her muscles rippled through her skin as she straightened each arm. The sexy aroma was overwhelming. and my dick pulsed in my pants. Then I saw her impish smile and I knew she was putting on a show for me.

I quickly turned back to face the front and tried to listen to the student speaking. I heard a few things about the complexities of Hamlet's family and delaying his move to be certain. But before I knew it, I was staring again at the girl's feet across from me. She had crossed her legs and was slowly bobbing one foot, her shoe dangling half off. The scent of Mac's lotion continued to fill my nose. The girl seemed to have especially nice legs...or was I just that fucking horny that every girl appeared hotter?

I suddenly felt a strange sensation in my ear. Instinctively, I raised a hand to scratch at it and my fingers came away wet. I pulled my hand down and saw white cream on my fingers. Mac gave me a wet willy with her lotion!

Before I could react, she stuck her finger in my ear again, this time deeper, and I could hear the squish as my ear canal filled. When she pulled away, I could barely hear from that side.

I raised my hand and rubbed again, but it only seemed to push the goop further in. I made to turn and give her a death stare, but I stopped halfway when I saw her bare leg sticking out from under the desk, stretching. What really caught my eye was the sandal she wore, with brown ribbons that wrapped up and around her ankle several times. It ended in a bow halfway up her shapely calf. God she had amazing legs!

I flinched as another glob of lotion squished into my ear canal, but before I could turn and fight back, she slipped a note onto my desk.

Save it up and maybe you can use it later -- like you did the other night!

How could she know I took her lotion? She now knew I looked at her notes, but...

Her finger touched my ear again. But this time something ran off my earlobe and onto my neck. I reached up and brought back my hand to find clear liquid. She switched to spit!

I turned back, ready again to confront her. But she was now turned away from me. Her closest arm was leaning on the desk, and she was hunched over writing something in her notebook with a black Sharpie. Her thick arm blocked my view.

I poked her in the bicep and she ignored me. I noticed how my finger barely depressed her skin. Then I poked again, harder. My finger bent and hurt, as if I was jabbing a wall. She still ignored me.

I turned back in frustration and noticed the nerdy girl looking at me again, seemingly pouting with pity. I shrugged and looked down at my desk.

Despite the useful information being discussed, I struggled to pay attention as I boiled with anger. At Mac for her devious bullying, at myself for falling for her ruse - and for being unable to do the project on my own in the first place.

The end of the class seemed to come quickly. To my disappointment, I'd barely heard anything that could help with my rewrite.

I decided to wait for Mackenzie to leave before I stood up. She got out of her chair and made a move toward the door, then suddenly turned back. She clapped me on the back and jeered quietly in my good ear, so close I could feel her breath:

"Nice job, panty boy."

Then she spun and strode out. I waited a minute to calm down -- and for my fresh hard-on to subside. When it didn't, I eventually got up and carried my notebook in front of my crotch. The long hallway was thick with students, and I had to bob and weave to get through.

Then someone tapped me on my left shoulder. I turned, afraid it was Mac, but I only saw random faces. I kept walking and someone tapped my other shoulder. I turned again and it was the same. There were more taps and finally I stopped looking back. Instead, I hunched over walking as fast as I could toward the stairwell.

I felt something tug on the back of my shirt, then a person slid past my side and stepped in front of me, blocking my path. I looked up and it was the nerdy girl from class. She was taller than I thought -- maybe 5'8" -- and had a kind look on her face. I noticed that she no longer wore glasses and that her face was prettier than I had given her credit for.

I looked down to see her handing me a sheet of paper with a piece of tape stuck to the top. My stomach dropped through the floor. It was emblazoned with large words written in thick black Sharpie:

^ TRUE FALSE ^

TAP

- I pack 9 inches

- I wear panties

- I love feet

I flipped over the paper and saw it was the sheet of fake Hamlet notes I had copied. I had a sudden urge to run, but the girl spoke before I could take a step.

"Why do you let her treat you like that?" she asked pointedly as people streamed past us.

"Like what?" I responded, feigning innocence.

"That's BS and you know it," she said firmly. "She's bullying you, isn't she?"

I just looked at her, uncertain what to say.

"You know in high school, I was the local youth leader for STOMP Out Bullying," she said, then added matter-of-factly, "I know a bully situation when I see one."

Her eyes turned soft with sympathy. She put her hand out and gently touched my shoulder. I flinched.

"It's okay. You're safe. She's not here," she said warmly, then she moved her arm and extended it for a handshake. "I'm Erica. Do you want to maybe grab a cup of coffee and talk?"

I still felt the impulse to run. Yet I also longed for help. There's no way I could tell a girl I'd just met everything that happened. But she seemed nice, and it would feel good just to talk to someone. I took her hand.

"Um...okay," I answered stupidly.

"Come on then," she said, squeezing my hand and giving it a tug.

***

"I want to help you with your problem," Erica began after a sip of latte, "but I realize I'm a random stranger and you have no reason to trust or confide in me. So let's get to know each other a bit."

I agreed and we took turns sharing our backgrounds. It turned out we were both from small towns and had similar experiences growing up. We also enjoyed many of the same things -- she was even a bit of a gamer.

After a few minutes, I began to get more comfortable around her. I also started to notice her features: her clear complexion and warm smile, the way she wrinkled her nose when she laughed, and how her pigtails moved back and forth as she spoke.

My challenges with Mackenzie began to fade the more time I spent with Erica. She seemed like a real, genuine person and somehow "in my league" -- approachable and accessible to a dork like me. I began to wonder if maybe I had a chance with her.

I almost forgot the purpose of our meeting when I was brought back to reality.

"So when did the tall blonde start giving you a hard time?" she asked bluntly.

"Well..." I began, thinking quickly about what I might say without sharing the embarrassing sexual encounters, "You see she's dating my roommate and best friend, and they're like totally in love. He kept it on the down low for a while, but then he introduced her to me, and right away she started picking on me about my size."

"Sounds like someone who is insecure herself," Erica quipped.

"Maybe, but she sure doesn't act like it," I responded. "I think maybe she's jealous of my relationship with my roommate and is trying to ruin our friendship. But then there are other things she does..."

My mind briefly drifted to sucking on her tit in the bathroom stall.

"Like what?" she prodded.

My eye twitched. I was suddenly uncomfortable.

"Um, well, I guess I'm not ready to share."

"It's okay," Erica said, flashing a sweet smile and reaching across to touch my hand. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. These things take time."

She really had a warm way about her that helped ease my nerves.

"Thanks," I sighed gratefully.

"So you have to rewrite that paper, huh?" she said, changing the subject. "I take it Shakespeare isn't really your cup of tea, is it?"

"Nah, I'm a computer science major," I explained, then I added with unconcealed frustration, "Signing up for this class was a huge mistake. And now it's too late to drop. I'm screwed."

She cocked her head to the side and gave me a consoling look.

"Do you want some help reworking your paper?" she asked earnestly. "I'm an English literature major. This is totally my thing. I'd be happy to brainstorm with you to create a new thesis and outline."