The Wedgie Cop

The Gym P.2

I wake up in the room/prison right next to Aidan's gym. Sean had brought me here the day before, "Introduced" me to everyone there, making me an official wedgie boy there, and had to leave, telling Aidan, the guy who ran the gym and his best friend, to lock me in the adjacent room, and continue our session the next morning, as in today. I know, a mouthful. Even now, it can't be later than 5 AM. As if on cue, Aidan bursts into my room with no warning. "Morning, Wedgie Boy!" He greets me, ruffling my hair. I back into the corner of the room, as far away from him as I can. "I won't hurt you. That much. Besides, I want you to meet another member of the gang, Nate!" A really, really muscly dude, definitely on steroids, gives me a smirk. "I remember you. You're the beggar. You're glad I've got my own Wedgie Bitch today." He has a suited deep, scary voice. I remember him too. He's the one who searched me that night, and was a big part of the reason I decided not to fight back. He stretches his arms. "Alright, should we get started?" "I guess we should" Aidan replies, a broad grin on his face. "I have my own slave to take care of tonight, but as a special favor to Sean, I'll hold a double session to take care of you both together. Even better, Nate's having his session today, Logan's little brother. Logan'll drop off Dylan in a couple of minutes, I'm off to wake up Derek, and then we can get started! Get to the food bar, and make us a breakfast."

I set off to the kitchen, and make some pancakes and a banana smoothie, laying out some maple syrup as well. Well I'm flipping the sizzling pancake over, I see Derek and Aidan emerge; Derek looks a lot than me, maybe in his late 20's, and has dark brown hair, black eyes, and slightly toned body. He looks like a guy who goes to the gym once in a while. But like me, he carries an embarrassed, hopeless expression that I suppose all wedgie slaves share. "Derek's almost 30, which is when all Subs are relieved from duty. This is his last session, and you're first, so we're making it extra special!" Aidan says in that cheerful yet devious voice he has.

"Subs?" I ask. "Submissives." He responds. "Masters are Doms, as in Dominants, and Slaves are Subs, as in Submissives. You'll take a test in 2 months, to become an official Wedgie Slave, and if it fits into his ranking, Sean's Sub." "Ranking?" I ask. He gives an exasperated sigh. "The Commandments? You haven't heard of it? Ugh Sean will explain it to you." I hear the sound of a car screeching on gravel, and I know Logan has arrived to drop off Dylan. He comes parading in, pushing a terrified, really young boy in front of him, who I assume is his brother. Even for a Wedgie Slave, he's really young, he can't be older than 13. Either way, unlike his brother he has short brown hair, but he's really skinny, and already has a beaver tail sticking out of his pants, presumably from Logan. By the way Logan's parading him through, you'd think he's the president. Nate apparently feels the same way, a grimace already set in his face. "Hey Nate, I've got him. Give the Tighty Whitey loser a good spanking for me, I'll pick him up tonight." Nate tightens his jaw visibly again. "You should talk. Isn't that what you're wearing right now?" Aidan joins me at the counter, enjoying the tension. "W-Whatever, loser." He replies, trying to sound like he doesn't care, but his stutter says otherwise. "WHAT DID YOU CALL ME???!!!!" Both men raise their fists for a fight, and Aidan leaves my side to join them. Logan's still acting brash. If Nate was looking at ME like that, I'd be running away as fast as I could. The fight that follows is brutal, but short. No wedgies were administered, but in the end, Nate throws the poser onto the ground, on his stomach. He groans, and tries to get up, but Nate places his foot on his back. Meanwhile I'm wondering if this happens every time they meet. Must get tedious after a while. He reaches down, and gives his waistband the slightest pull, just exposing the white material he was trying so hard to hide. "If you were really a man, you wouldn't be wearing this." He uses the extra leverage to rip it in the crotch area in 2 harsh pulls, leaving shredded fabric inside his jeans. Impressively, Logan didn't even scream, though he is gritting his teeth in pain. It's actually kind of satisfying watching this if you're not the one being flossed. "Aidan, will you go get a Size S Hanes Black Boxer-Briefs from the storage room?" "You got it" Aidan replies with a grin, and promptly leaves, returning with what he asked for. "Y-You're not-t making me w-wear tighty-y whities s-sir?" Logan asks, his eyes widening. "Nope. These are Boxer-Briefs, what a real man wears. Put them on, before I change my mind." Needless to say, at least 1 size too small, and makes his thighs look ginormous. The waistband is stretched tightly across his stomach. "In the car. Now." Logan complies, and stands up in the driver's seat, shaking. I follow outside, to see witness what'll happen next. "Listen here you little twerp. The next time you make a hypocritical statement, there won't be enough burn cream in the world to soothe your ass." Aidan says. He pulls out the driver's headrest, and gives a humongous yank to Logan's undersized legholes, and stretches the legholes up to pole spaces, and reattaches the head rest, amid Logan's cries and protests. He's trapped by the legholes in a brutal permanent wedgie in an already too-small pair of underwear. He can't even hope to undo it unless he rips his underwear, or taking out the complex headrest behind his back without looking. But Nate's not done yet. "Sit." When he doesn't respond, Nate forces his shoulders down, forcing his exposed ass and bare thighs onto the seat. AHH AHHHHHH AHGHGHHHHHGHGHGHGHHH!!!!!!! IT BURNSSSS PLEASEEEEE TAKE IT OUT!!!" AHHHH!!! His legholes are level with the top of his head... again in the miniature underwear. As Logan's clutching his ass in agony, and the rest of us watching, he runs inside, and's back out. "This will help with the burn" His voice full of venom. And he pours a good quarter of the banana smoothie down the back of his underwear, and another quarter down the front. After giving him a few harsh tugs to the front of his boxer-briefs, uncomfortably squishing the cool, chunky liquid in his intimate areas and making him give out several sharp cries, he's satisfied. "Have a safe drive!" And with a look of deep pain, he drives off onto the highway in his car wedgie......

We all walk back into the gym, Nate still holding the half-empty smoothie container. "Well, that was fun. But now, the party can begin!" Nate and Aidan line us up, Nate with Dylan, and Aidan with me and Derek. "Why don't we start with breakfast?" Aidan begins. "Of course! You'll need to keep your strength up! I see Danny made us pancakes... How about a breakfast special?" Having just witness Nate's demented oddly genius ways of torturing people, I wasn't too eager to learn anything with the word "special" in it. Nate took a bottle of maple syrup.. and drizzled it all over Dylan's head. Aidan did the same to me, then Derek. I felt the warm sticky liquid thicken my hair, and trip down my face and neck, and judging by the way Derek was shuddering, he wasn't having a good time either. "Next, how bout a pancake?" Aidan continued. He plopped a pancake on top of my head, which looked a bit embarrassing. Derek and Dylan got the same thing. "And finally-More syrup!" Nate finished. They added excess amounts of syrup onto all of our heads, on top of the pancake, thick syrup now dripping all the way down my upper and lower back. They used at least a third of the bottle on me. "You're pancake's a little wobbly... Let me strap it down!!!!" Aidan gave me a malicious grin, and with slow, steadying painful yanks, he gave me a atomic over the pancake, and hooked it under my nose. It was the worst feeling. Spikes of pain only a wedgie could bring was pulsing down my ass, sticky syrup was still climbing down my back and neck, making the white cotton stick to me, and the extra pressure from the wedgie forced the pancake into my hair, coating the roots in syrup as well. The syrup made the cotton stick so close to the skin, it looked like a layer of skin instead of intrusive cotton. To top it all off, I couldn't even see, my face just a print against the cotton. Opening my mouth to moan would force me to taste the slightly sugary damp briefs. I couldn't hope to undo it, so my hands hang at my sides. Eventually, after a good 10 minutes of the bullies enjoying our embarrassing predicament, no doubt taking pictures and videos to blackmail us, my underwear lost its grip, and snapped against my forehead, leaving a small sting. Now that I could see again, I looked at the others. Derek was in a similar position, and looked how I did: His back arched, the briefs plastered to him like a second skin, the intense look of pain I could see with his face pressed against cotton, and the bulbous brown bulge on top of his head. His hands were uselessly at his sides like mine, knowing he would endure a far greater punishment later if he did anything to alleviate the pain. Of course, Nate's recording him. "Graduation Photos." he calls it. Every so often, Aidan would really press down on the pancake to almost stick it on the skull. Poor Dylan was off even worse, in the 2XL size Nate forced on him, at least 6 sizes too large. His atomic was trapping in the pancake like me and Derek's, but Nate stretched it so high that he went farther than the chin, and attached it with a carabiner to the front of his underwear, his tighty whities forming a complete circle of shame and sticky brown spots. His own atomic wedgie's giving him a melvin, for god's sake. He's a boy! He has balls! He's clutching his jewels tightly, and I can plainly see the thick line of cotton wedged deeply into his butt. I can't even begin to comprehend the pain he's in, but judging from his eyes, which I can see because his legholes stretched all the way to the front of his face, he's gonna be feeling that for a long time. But gotta give all of us credit, we don't make a peep. maybe because the cotton also serves as a gag at this point. "Hey, who said you could fix it?" Aidan came over to me, and a cold fear runs through me. "Not cool, gonna have to punish you for that." He said. Taking the maple syrup bottle again, he poured the rest of it, a good 12-13 cups, down the back of my underwear, my nerves somewhat accepting the cool numbing liquid. Unfortunately, if my briefs sucked onto my skin before, now it's plastered. For good measure, he poured a half cup in the front of my underwear, and gave me a swift melvin, leaving me clasping my hands to prevent them from cupping my aching crotch. Mercifully, most of it dripped out through the sides, because the material was still mainly involved up my stinging ass. Every so often, one of the three of us gives a groan or a whimper, but none of us complain. Finally, after another 20 minutes, Nate gets bored. "Ok guys, you can undo your wedgies now." We all detach the waistbands from our chins, foreheads, and in Dylan's case-his melvin. I feel my waistband suck off my skin after I tug with all my strength, and return back to my waistline. The pain subsides into a dull sting every time I walk. I take a look around. We're all sticky and stained brown, like our underwear. Derek's wincing as he fishes the fabric out of his butt, and Dylan falls down and whimpers, his pancake still squashed onto his head. Without a word Aidan walks by and snags my and Derek's waistbands again, not slowing down in the slightest. Not wanting to stimulate the sore nerves in my butt again, we quickly stand up and walk next to him. Dylan however doesn't even resist when Nate yanks him along, still curled up in a ball. However, all of our eyes widen in terror once we realize where we're going. We're heading to the locker room.