Roleplay Gone Wrong
Casey adjusted his glasses, sitting behind his makeshift professor’s desk—really just a dorm room chair pulled up to a plastic folding table. He smirked at Arun, who stood nervously in front of him, shifting on his feet.
“You understand why you’re here, Arun?” Casey asked, his voice dripping with authority.
Arun gulped. “B-Because I’m failing your class?”
Casey nodded. “And because of that, you’ll have to do extra credit. But not just any extra credit.” He reached under the desk and pulled out the outfit.
Arun’s eyes widened as Casey laid out the garments piece by piece. First, a scandalously short plaid mini skirt, the red and black pattern only drawing more attention to its risqué length. The fabric barely had enough material to qualify as clothing—when Arun held it up, he realized it was so short that it would do nothing to cover him properly. Then, the panties: soft, pink with little red hearts dotting the waistband and a tiny ribbon bow in the front. Finally, a white crop top, embarrassingly tight, stretched enough to make the word SLUT across the chest all the more prominent.
Arun turned red. “You can’t be serious…”
“Oh, I am. And if you don’t comply, well…” Casey leaned back, crossing his arms. “I suppose you’ll have to repeat my class next semester.”
Arun groaned but grabbed the clothes. Minutes later, Arun stepped out of the bathroom, his face burning as he adjusted the skirt. The waistband sat high on his waist, yet it barely covered his upper thighs. Any slight movement threatened to reveal the humiliating panties underneath. The crop top was just as bad—his toned sCaseyach was on full display, and the tight fit made his chest look almost perky.
Casey let out a low whistle. “Oh, that is perfect.”
Arun folded his arms over his chest. “This is so degrading.”
“Good,” Casey said with a smirk. “Now, get over here and take notes.”
With an exaggerated sigh, Arun strutted over to the makeshift chalkboard—really a whiteboard they had propped against the wall—and picked up a piece of chalk. He leaned forward, pretending to write, his rear jutting out slightly. The movement made the skirt lift just a little too high, flashing a teasing peek of the heart-patterned panties.
Casey grinned. “Careful now, Arun. Any lower, and I’ll have to give you another punishment.”
Arun shot him a glare over his shoulder. “You are enjoying this way too much.”
Just as he bent down to grab another piece of chalk that had fallen, the door swung open.
“Arun—”
The voice froze him in place. His father.
Ravi stood in the doorway, eyes locked on the horrifying sight before him: Arun, bent over, rear in the air, his skirt flipped up just enough to reveal the humiliating heart-covered panties underneath.
Arun slowly straightened, his face turning an impossible shade of red. “D-Dad…?”
Silence. A long, heavy silence.
When he finally turned around, the full impact of the situation hit like a truck. Ravi’s nostrils flared as he took in the scene—Arun’s scandalously short plaid mini skirt, barely managing to cover his bulge or the curve of his ample behind, the tight crop top stretched across his chest, the bold and humiliating word “SLUT” displayed for all to see.
But it was Arun’s underwear—those delicate, snug, heart-patterned panties peeking from under the hem of his skirt—that truly held his father’s attention.
Then Ravi spoke, his voice low and laced with controlled fury. “What… the hell am I looking at?”
Arun stammered, his breath hitching. “D-Dad, I—”
Ravi cut him off with a sharp glare. He took a step into the room, his towering frame imposing, his piercing eyes never leaving his son’s humiliating attire.
“I fly across the country, surprise my only son, and I walk in on this?” His voice rose slightly, a mix of outrage and something else—something intrigued. His gaze flickered again to the hem of Arun’s skirt, as if confirming what he saw. “This is what you’re doing in college?”
Arun was burning with shame. He could feel the cool air against his thighs, the way the fabric of his humiliating outfit hugged his body in all the worst ways. His hands twitched, itching to tug down the skirt, to cover himself, to run.
“I can put on some clothes—”
Ravi lifted a hand. “No need… Slut.”
Arun’s sCaseyach dropped. His father had said it casually, as if it were his name. As if the word printed across his chest was simply what he had become. And then… Ravi laughed. A deep, throaty chuckle, tinged with something almost amused.
He folded his arms, tilting his head as he examined his son. “You know,” he mused, voice quieter now but still firm, “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life. But I have never seen panties like these.” His eyes trailed Arun’s body again, lingering on the soft pink fabric beneath the skirt. “Little hearts, huh? And such a tight fit…”
Arun wanted to disappear. His knees felt weak, his skin burned, and yet he couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
Casey, finally snapping out of his shock, took a hesitant step forward. “Uh, Mr. Patel, I think this is just a misunderstanding—”
Ravi waved him off, never taking his eyes off Arun. “A misunderstanding?” he repeated. “No, no… I think this is pretty clear.”
His gaze roamed again, slower this time, drinking in the full display of Arun’s embarrassment. Then, with an almost casual flick of his fingers, he motioned. “Twirling might help me get the full picture.”
Arun’s jaw nearly dropped. “W-what?”
“You heard me.” Ravi’s voice was steady, unreadable. “Turn around. Let’s see it.”
Casey’s eyes darted between father and son, his mouth slightly open, as if he himself couldn’t believe what was happening.
Arun clenched his fists, shaking his head. “Dad, please—”
“Twirl.”
It was a command, not a request.
Arun swallowed hard. His heart pounded in his chest as he hesitantly spun on his toes. The skirt lifted slightly, the humiliating panties flashing just a bit more before he came to a stop, feeling dizzy from the sheer shame.
Ravi exhaled through his nose, nodding. “Interesting.”
Casey blinked. “Interesting?”
Ravi ignored him. His lips quirked into something resembling a smirk. “The craftsmanship of these panties. That’s what’s interesting. See, back in my day, underwear was plain. White. Practical. But this—” he gestured toward Arun’s lower half, “—this is… art.”
Arun’s mouth opened and closed, words failing him.
Casey gave a nervous chuckle. “Uh… that’s an unexpected takeaway.”
Ravi nodded to himself, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. Then, he straightened, rolled his shoulders back, and turned toward the door. “Alright. That’s enough for today.”
Arun blinked. “What?”
“I’ve seen what I needed to see.” Ravi strode toward the exit, casually adjusting his watch. “Enjoy your studies, son.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving Arun and Casey in stunned silence.
Casey finally broke it. “That… was not how I expected that to go.”
Arun exhaled, shoulders sagging, feeling like he had just survived some kind of strange fever dream. “I don’t know what just happened,” he whispered. “And I don’t want to.”
Casey smirked, crossing his arms. “One thing’s for sure—your dad’s got great taste in underwear.”
Arun groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Shut up, Casey.”
***
The next day, Arun was still recovering from the sheer absurdity of the previous evening. He had woken up half-convinced it had been a fever dream—that his father hadn't actually examined his panties with the scrutiny of a fashion critic. But reality hit hard when Ravi knocked on his dorm room door, grinning ear to ear, holding up a shopping bag.
"Good morning, son!" Ravi announced, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "I did some shopping for you."
Arun's sCaseyach dropped. "Oh god. What did you do?"
Ravi pulled out a pair of panties and held them up like a proud peacock displaying its feathers. They were pastel pink with bright red polka dots, trimmed with delicate white lace along the waistband.
Arun groaned. "Dad, this is—"
"Put them on."
"What? No!"
"Put. Them. On. SLUT,” Ravi insisted, shaking the undies like a coach motivating his team.
Arun huffed, snatching the panties from his father’s hand. "Fine! But then this conversation never happens again."
He turned his back, peeling off his current underwear—navy blue bikini briefs with tiny white lightning bolts—before stepping into the new ones. They were snug. Very snug. The lace tickled his waist, and the fabric clung to his behind in a way that was almost too flattering.
Ravi clapped his hands. "Now that is style!"
Arun spun around, red-faced. "Are we done?"
"Not yet." Ravi smirked and reached into the bag again. "Because I got a matching pair."
With a flourish, he produced his own polka-dotted panties—deep purple with white polka dots. But these weren’t just ordinary panties. No. These were string bikinis, with side ties that looked more like an afterthought than a structural necessity.
Arun gawked. "Dad. Those are scandalous."
Ravi shrugged. “I know.” Then, with zero hesitation, he hooked his thumbs into his waistband and untied the strings, letting his bikini drop.
Arun yelped and turned away, but not before catching the full bounce of his father’s ample behind and cock as they settled from freedom.
"DAD!"
"Oh, grow up," Ravi chided. “Now, why don’t you try these on too?" He picked up the discarded string bikini and tossed them at Arun.
To his own horror, Arun caught them instinctively.
"Go on," Ravi encouraged, folding his arms. "I want to see how they fit on a younger man."
Despite himself, Arun felt an odd excitement. He had to admit—string bikinis were intriguing. He slid off the polka-dot panties. Carefully, he tied the side strings, adjusting the waistband until it sat just right. The feeling was… different. The minimal coverage, the delicate strings digging into his hips, the way the back did absolutely nothing to cover his ass.
Ravi nodded in approval. "Not bad."
Arun turned to the mirror and examined himself. "Actually…" He hesitated, shifting his hips slightly. "These are kinda nice. But if you ever bring this up again, I will block your number."
Ravi grinned. "Fair enough. Now, what do you think about thongs?"
Arun groaned. "Get out."
Ravi chuckled, adjusting his own bikini waistband. "Suit yourself. But I’m going to see if they have any on sale."
And with that, he grabbed the string bikini and tugged it off Arun. He covered his uncut cock as he reconsidered all of his life choices.
***
Ravi strutted into the department store like a man on a mission. His polka-dot string bikini had been a revelation—why stop there? He wanted more. More colors, more styles, more of that snug, scandalous fit.
The store was filled with silk, lace, and satin, all whispering promises of forbidden luxury. He picked out three particularly intriguing pairs—one neon pink with ruffles, another sheer black with floral embroidery, and a daring leopard-print thong.
He headed to the dressing rooms, but a bored-looking store attendant, a tall, lanky man with a name tag that read Greg, blocked his path. “Sorry, sir, the dressing rooms are full.”
Ravi smiled suggestively. “You expect me to buy without trying them on?”
Greg winked. “Well, I could set up a makeshift changing area for you.”
Ravi nodded, and within moments, Greg had propped up a flimsy partition made from a rolling rack and a single curtain, barely wide enough to give Ravi an illusion of privacy.
Ravi sighed, unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them down, revealing his snug purple string bikini.
Greg, adjusting a nearby display, caught a glimpse and raised an eyebrow. “Nice choice,” he muttered under his breath.
Ravi ignored him and grabbed the neon pink pair. He untied the string bikini and stepped into the panties, pulling them up over his muscular thighs. They were tiny—frilly at the edges, a bright, obnoxious pink that made his big behind pop. The ruffles jiggled as he shifted his weight.
Greg peeked again. “Those are… uh… lively.”
Ravi turned slightly, inspecting himself. The ruffles made his already ample cheeks look even fuller. He smirked. “I have to say, this is quite flattering.”
He slipped out of them and grabbed the sheer black floral pair. The lace stretched tight over his thighs, way tighter than expected. The sheer material left very little to the imagination—his brown skin showed through the delicate embroidery, making it look scandalously bare. The thin waistband barely held together as he adjusted himself, trying to contain his prominent bulge.
Greg cleared his throat. “Those are, uh… bold.”
Ravi wiggled his hips. “Too much?”
Greg visibly gulped. “I mean, depends on the occasion.”
Finally, Ravi reached for the leopard-print thong. This was the one he was most excited about. He slid it up and felt an immediate difference—it was tight, and the back? Oh, there was no back. Just a tiny strip disappearing between his bouncy cheeks.
“Okay, these I love,” Ravi declared, trying to adjust his semi-hard cock in the tiny pouch. He turned to check his behind, admiring how the thong completely exposed his generous backside.
Greg made the mistake of looking directly at it. “Wow. I love those, too.”
At that exact moment, two things happened.
First, mall security walked by.
Second, Greg, in his flustered state, accidentally bumped the rolling rack, knocking over the flimsy partition.
The curtain collapsed, and suddenly Ravi was completely exposed—standing in the middle of the store in nothing but a leopard-print thong.
Mall security immediately locked eyes with him.
“What the hell?” one of them barked.
Ravi panicked. “I—I was just—”
Before he could explain, one of the guards grabbed his arm. “Sir, we’re gonna have to ask you to leave.”
“Wait, wait!” Ravi yelped, trying to reach for his jeans, but the guard yanked him forward.
His big behind bounced with each step as they pulled him through the store, past rows of stunned shoppers. He twisted and turned, trying to cover himself, but the thong’s tiny pouch was doing nothing to contain his bulge, and his bare cheeks were completely on display.
As he was dragged past a group of men shopping for cologne, one of them snorted. “Yo, check out Leopard King over here.”
Another guy burst out laughing. “Nice cheeks, man!”
Ravi’s face burned as he struggled, his hands darting between his front and back, unsure what was worse to expose. “Please, this is a misunderstanding!”
The guards ignored him, marching him through the packed mall in nothing but the thong and his unbuttoned dress shirt. More men turned to stare.
One let out a low whistle. “Those security guys got a real juicy one today.”
By the time they reached the exit, Ravi had never felt so humiliated in his life. His cheeks jiggled with every step, his bulge barely contained by the straining fabric. The last thing he heard before being thrown outside was one guy shouting—
“Work it, daddy!”
And with that, the doors shut behind him.
Ravi stood outside the mall, the cold air hitting his nearly bare behind. His leopard-print thong did nothing to protect him, and the catcalls and laughter from passing men made his humiliation unbearable.
He had no phone, no wallet, no pants—just his tiny thong and unbuttoned dress shirt, flapping helplessly as he hunched over, trying in vain to cover himself.
There was only one option.
He had to take the bus home.
The Bus Ride of Shame
Ravi shuffled toward the bus stop, walking awkwardly as he tried to hide both his bulge and his big, exposed butt. But the thong’s thin strap between his bouncing cheeks ensured there was nowhere to hide.
A group of men was already waiting.
One guy glanced over and did a double take. “Yo, no way.”
Another burst out laughing. “Dude, you seriously out here like that?”
A third whistled. “Damn, that’s bold!”
Ravi winced, pressing his legs together. “I—I didn’t mean to end up like this,” he stammered.
One of the guys smirked. “Oh yeah? I bet you love to show off that juicy ass?”
The bus arrived, doors hissing open, and Ravi rushed in, desperate to escape their teasing. But the real nightmare was just beginning.
The bus was full of men.
Ravi froze, feeling all eyes lock onto him.
“Holy shit!” someone exclaimed.
Another guy snorted. “Bro, is that a leopard thong?!”
The bus was so crowded that Ravi was immediately pressed between bodies. His bare thighs brushed against denim, sweatpants, muscular legs—but worst of all, his big, nearly bare butt was wedged against someone.
Ravi felt the eyes of multiple men turn toward him.
A guy laughed. “Dude. What the hell are you wearing?”
Ravi yelped as his thong was snapped against his skin, the impact making his butt jiggle.
More laughter. Another tug. This time, someone yanked his thong so hard it disappeared between his cheeks, wedging itself so deep that Ravi involuntarily moaned.
“Ohhh—”
Silence.
Then uproarious laughter.
“Yo, did he just moan?!”
One guy howled. “Damn, this thong’s got him feeling things!”
A sudden jolt in the road sent him lurching forward.
His lips crashed into something soft.
A mouth.
A man’s mouth.
The world froze.
Ravi’s eyes widened in horror as he realized he had just kissed a stranger.
The man—a tall, bearded guy in a tight tank top—stared at him, equally stunned.
A second of silence stretched between them.
Then the guy grinned.
“Well, damn,” he chuckled. “Didn’t expect to get a kiss on my way home.”
Ravi shrieked and stumbled backward, only to bump his exposed ass against another man’s crotch.
“Yo, you tryna give me a lap dance?” the guy behind him teased.
Someone grabbed his hips and gave him a mock grind, making Ravi squeak in mortification.
“This ride’s getting wild!” another guy laughed.
The doors hissed open at the next stop. Ravi didn’t even think. He ran.
The moment Ravi’s bare feet hit the pavement, he realized his mistake. He was now stuck outside. In just his leopard thong.
The bus pulled away, leaving Ravi standing at another busy stop, surrounded by a group of new men—all staring at him.
One guy raised an eyebrow. “Bro… did you just get kicked off in your underwear?”
Another whistled. “You waiting for another bus? Or just giving us a free show?”
Ravi groaned, hugging his shirt around his exposed bulge, still reeling from the sheer humiliation of the bus ride. His bare thighs trembled, his leopard-print thong clinging desperately to his round behind, offering nothing in the way of dignity. He had no pants. No escape. The only thing standing between him and absolute exposure was the loose shirt flapping at his waist.
Men at the stop were openly staring, whispering, grinning. Ravi averted his eyes, pretending not to notice.
Then, as if the universe itself was conspiring against him, he heard the low whoop of a police siren.
A patrol car was approaching.
Ravi’s heart pounded.
No, no, no.
As the car slowed, a man standing behind Ravi snickered.
Then, without warning—
SWOOSH.
Ravi felt the cold night air suddenly kiss his most private places.
A stranger had pulled his thong around his knees.
His bare, round ass bounced freely in the moonlight. His uncut cock flopped forward, exposed to the entire street.
Gasps. Laughter. A few wolf whistles.
Someone clapped.
“Damn! Didn’t expect the full show!”
“Ohhh, he’s uncut too? Hot.”
Ravi froze in place, too horrified to react. His legs refused to move. His face burned.
Then—
“HEY!”
The police car screeched to a halt.
A bright spotlight illuminated Ravi’s exposed form.
“Sir, put some clothes on!”
“I-I don’t have any!” Ravi blurted.
One of the cops sighed heavily. Then, to Ravi’s complete horror—the door opened. He was being arrested.
The inside of the police car was cold against Ravi’s bare skin. He hunched over, desperately trying to cover himself, but the hard leather seat beneath him offered no comfort.
The officers up front were clearly amused.
“So, uh,” one cop said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “You wanna explain why you’re out here naked?”
“I—I wasn’t naked! Someone pantsed me!” Ravi stammered.
The other cop snickered.
“Yeah? Looks like you didn’t have much to begin with.”
They laughed, and Ravi sank lower in his seat.
By the time they reached the station, Ravi’s humiliation had only gotten worse. The booking officer raised an eyebrow as Ravi stood there, half-naked, trying to use his hands to cover himself.
“Jesus,” the man muttered. “They really just brought you in like this?”
“They wouldn’t give me pants!” Ravi protested.
Another officer shrugged. “Hey, man. You were out there with your junk swinging free. That’s public indecency.”
Then they led him into the holding cell.
And that’s when Ravi realized—
The cell was packed with men. Rough men. Big men. Men who had been there for hours, maybe all night. And now, into their midst, stepped a naked man wearing only an unbuttoned dress shirt and a leopard-print thong hanging loosely around his thighs.
The reaction was immediate.
Wolf whistles.
Grins.
One man, a hulking guy with tattoos up his arms, leaned forward on the bench.
“Well, well,” he purred. “What do we have here?”
Another man chuckled. “I think we just got ourselves a new cell sweetheart.”
Ravi panicked.
“I—I’m not—I just—I need to make a call!” he yelped, backing up against the wall.
One guy whistled. “Hey, don’t be shy. Come sit on my lap.”
A man with gold teeth smirked. “Damn. That’s a big ass you got there. You putting that to use, sweetheart?”
Ravi whimpered. He needed out. Now.
The officers let him use the phone. With shaking hands, he dialed.
“Hello?”
It was Arun. Ravi nearly collapsed from relief.
“Arun,” he gasped. “I—I need you to pick me up.”
There was a pause.
“…Dad?” Arun said slowly. “Where… where are you?”
Ravi swallowed.
“…Jail.”
Silence.
Then, in a flat, horrified tone:
“…Why?”
Ravi closed his eyes.
“It’s…a long story.”
When Arun finally arrived, the officers were openly laughing as they escorted Ravi out of the cell. His leopard-print thong clinging to his hips. His plump ass was still on display. Arun turned red instantly.
“Oh my god.”
One of the officers grinned. “This your old man?”
Arun covered his face. “I—I don’t know him.”
“Arun!” Ravi hissed.
The prisoners behind the bars hooted as Ravi passed by.
“Damn, we only just met and you’re already leaving us?” a muscular man with a scarred lip called out.
A man with tattoos creeping up his neck gave him a slow once-over, grinning. “Guess that juicy ass was too much for county lockup. They couldn’t handle it.”
Another prisoner, lounging against the bars, smirked. “If you need a place to crash, sweetheart, I got a warm lap and a cold bunk.”
A guy with a cigarette tucked behind his ear grinned. “Shame. He looks like the kinda guy who’d fit right in here.”
As Ravi shuffled past, red-faced, one of the prisoners made a loud kissing noise.
“Come back soon, sugar! We barely got to know you!”
Arun sped up, yanking his father forward as Ravi whimpered under the chorus of hooting and whistles.
The last thing he heard before the door slammed shut behind him—
“Tell Daddy to wear a tighter thong next time!”
