Poor Panties-kun!

Rou Himura was dreaming. The images in his mind were fleeting and gossamer, as dreams often are, yet recognizable for all that. He was with Rikona at Shinjuku Imperial Garden, sitting on a wooden bench. They were protected from the noonday sun by a gazebo. She was holding his hand and looking at him. He could feel the warmth of her touch, and though the way her hand enfolded his was a bit embarrassing (small hands being one of Rou’s many effeminate traits), it was also strangely exciting. As their eyes lingered on each other, she squeezed his palm and then spoke at last.



“Are we going to get takoyaki today, Rou-kun?”



In real life he would have stuttered out some inadequate response (and the encounter would probably have been happening in the middle of the hallway at school, making it far more embarrassing - he had never been to Shinjuku Gyoen with Rikona), but in his mind’s eye he was far more smooth, nodding and rubbing his small thumb against her fingers.



“Yes.”



It was only in his dreams that he was able to deal with her, her teasing, hugs, pinching of cheeks, flirtatious and perverted remarks. Yes, he would take her to get takoyaki. Then, a day of shopping. And finally, a kiss goodnight, and if he was feeling bold and his libido up to the task, a quick excursion of his hand up the bottom of her blouse! That was about as far as he usually got.



This time, though, Rikona raised an eyebrow.



“If we’re going for takoyaki,” she mused, “why are you dressed like that?”



Rou’s dream perception expanded, the drawing back of an unseen camera lens. He was sitting with Rikona on a wooden bench underneath a beautiful gazebo, yes… but he wasn’t wearing his school uniform, or the squared-away, neat casual gear he usually donned for weekend outings. In this dream, he was wearing something completely different.



Rou was wearing too-tight hip hugger panties in an alarming shade of powder blue.

Thigh high stockings, also in blue!

A see-through babydoll, of the same traitorous color!

A black leather choker with a heart clasp!

A blue hair barrette!



His dream-self began to sweat! He somehow knew he was dreaming, but couldn’t wake up. And Rikona gave him no respite from the humiliating situation.



“Are you some sort of weirdo or something, Rou-kun?” she asked, looking genuinely confused. Dream Rikona, for whatever reason, was wearing her school uniform, which was bulging generously in the usual place.



“N-no!” stammered Rou, in his dream. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! I’m a boy, this is just someone playing a joke on me!” Even his dream-self didn’t sound very convinced. How the panties clung to his explosive hips! How beautifully his slender neck wore the choker. There was no hint of an Adam’s apple beneath that heart clasp… and no sign of a man’s muscular definition beneath the translucent silk of the babydoll. In fact, the soft friction of the fabric was causing his nipples to puff up a bit in arousal! Rou’s neck-length chestnut hair seemed perfectly suited to the barrette… and his legs looked cute as a button in the thigh-highs. It wasn’t fair! Why was his body betraying him by wearing these girly clothes so well?



Rou buried his head in his hands. Would the embarrassment never end? Rikona would never see him as the man of her dreams at the rate he was going… she was more likely to try to try to color his hair or teach him how to do makeup than to agree to go on a date with him. And oh, how his disobedient little penis was swelling in the crotch of his tight, tight panties! He could feel syrupy liquid sliding from his member in a constant flow, probably staining the material dark… right in front of his would-be girlfriend!



Rikona took her hand away. “I don’t think I can date you, Rou-tan,” she said. His eyes were shut, but he could hear the uncertain quality in her normally chipper voice. That, and…



“What did you call me?” he said, eyes opening in alarm. Rou didn’t realize it, but he also whispered it in his sleep.



It wasn’t really Rikona holding his hand in the park after all. It was Takeshi, with his long red hair and his shark teeth, leering at him, leaning over him. Twice his size, looking hungry, like a piranha about to skeletonize a very cute and vulnerable cow!



“I called you Rou-tan,” he confirmed, putting his face an inch from Rou’s. He was in his school uniform, but his fly was unzipped and something large and threatening was bulging partly through, contained within a grey boxer-brief wrapping! “Wiggle your ass for me, Panties-kun. Get on your hands and knees and show me your moneymaker!”



Rou gasped in his dream. And in real life. The two had been intertwined. Then he felt Takeshi’s thigh press against his crotch, and the burst of syrupy wetness that came out of his dick was so shameful!



“No!” he cried out, in the darkness of his room.



Awake at last. Staring at the ceiling with wide, amber-colored eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness like just-forged golden rings, set on a blacksmith’s anvil to cool. Rou moaned with dismay. His Rikona dream had turned into a nightmare… but his body had responded even more strongly than usual. Sure, it wasn’t uncommon for him to awake with this cute little penis poking jauntily upward following his typical pubescent imaginings… but this time something more had happened. Rou wiggled his hand beneath the waistband of his boxer shorts and it came back sticky and wet. Drawing two fingers apart right in front of his own amazed and horrified eyes, a lattice of thin, clear strands bridged the gap, glistening in the air of the dawn. He’d had an orgasm in his sleep, and now his smooth crotch was plastered in the clear, sticky result!



“No...,” Rou moaned… and then there was a knock at the door. It could only be one person, and his mother was not exactly known for waiting before sliding the door of his room open. In fact, he could hear the wooden door on its track already. He wiped his hand on his sheet with as much haste as he could muster, blushing furiously. His shapely cheekbones seemed to carry twin roses beneath his tousled hair.



“Rou? Time for school!” his mother was saying. She was a tireless woman, hard-working and straightforward. He’d gotten his hair color from her and his eye color from her father, his grandfather. It was customary for her to knock and rouse him in the mornings, but this day Rou didn’t want or need the intrusion. Hiding his hand quickly beneath the sheets, he tried to look sleepy instead of harried, aware that his cheeks were betraying his state but unable to do anything about it.



“Alright, mom,” he said. His mind, meanwhile, repeated an endless loop of dismissals.



Go away, go away, go away, go away...



She started to close the door again, but then stopped, and her brow furrowed a little with worry.



“Are you feeling alright, Rou? You look a little flushed. Have you come down with a fever?”



No, I don’t have a fever. No, I don’t need you to come in here and feel my forehead. No, I don’t want you in my room at all! Please, go away, mom! Go away!



“I-I feel fine,” he said, his delicate features flushing more than ever. He nibbled his bottom lip cutely and unconsciously. His breath was hitching a little, and he tried to calm it, almost succeeding until his mother decided to come into the room after all. She wasn’t old enough to not carry some of her youthful beauty, but Rou had seldom looked at her as anything other than a nurturing presence… even if she did baby him a little. She made him lunches and snacks, sometimes talked to him in a bit of a cajoling, patronizing way, and had bathed with him up until a few years ago. Rou sometimes resented this excess of care and attention, wondering if she was part of the reason he was, for lack of a better term, somewhat “un-manly”. Overall, though, they got along very well. He was no delinquent and got very good grades in school.



His mother threw open the windows and then, humming, collected his laundry basket.



The panties! Did you put the panties in the laundry basket? What did you do with them?



Rou’s face almost turned purple as he struggled to remember. He wouldn’t have thrown the panties that Takeshi gave him in the wash, would he? He couldn’t remember… and today wasn’t even the day she normally did laundry!



“I have to go into the city tomorrow with your father, so I’m doing the laundry early,” she said, as if in answer to his question. Then, his mother approached the bed. In his stuff-pricked condition, he was uncharacteristically aware of the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the way her skirt did little to hide the matronly thickness of her hips, the small beauty mark just below the corner of her mouth that seemed to punctuate the fullness of her lips.  “Let me just take these sheets…”



Sheets.



His bedsheets. The only thing covering his crotch, where his wet undies, made semi-transparent by his seminal fluid, were clinging to his penis… a penis that was still hard as a rock and leaking anew!



“N-no!” he stammered, bunching the covers around himself in a fluffy shota-fortress. “I uh…”



His mother’s expression became quizzical. She grabbed the sheets on one end and began to pull. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “It’s time to get up, anyway-”



Oh, I’m getting it up alright, mom. No need to worry on that score.



“No!”



Rou pulled back. His mother’s breasts we hanging down in her sweater, while she was bent over to pull at his linens. They seemed to sway pendulously. Had he never noticed how large they were? She tugged again.



“Rou, I don’t have time to-”



Rou held on to his sheets for dear life. Frustrated, his mother gave one final, mighty yank. Aoi Himura wasn’t exactly the circus strongman, but she had spent too much time moving each day to be weak, especially compared to her dainty and sinfully cute son. Rou lost his grip and his bedspread was violently torn away from him.



There was a liquid sound.



SPLAT.



The room was totally silent. His mother stood stone still. Rou had been revealed in bed. His cotton nightshirt was soaked with sweat, and his boxers, in their wet state, did little to hide the bump of his erection. The earnest but none-too-bright Mrs. Himura, meanwhile, was wide-eyed with surprise. The result of Rou’s wet dream had transferred from the bedsheet in the sudden tearing motion, splashing her face and breasts.



“Rou? What...” she said, eyebrows raised. Shaking, her hand went to her face, where a bead of clear liquid, one of many, was shining on her upper lip. She touched it and pulled her finger away. The goo stretched out in a clear line before breaking. Shameful reality dawned.



“Oh my!” she cried, her face one of scandalized revulsion. Rou wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment. In that moment, he just wanted to crawl into a hole and pass away from the utter humiliation of it all. Not only had his mother seen his erect dick poking into the crotch of his sodden boxers, not only had she uncovered the sordid secret of his copious night-time emission (how long had he been leaking!?), but the proof was all over her face and the sweater holding her large and motherly boobs.



His face couldn’t possibly blush any further, and his mother turned just as red, his sheets still bunched in her hands, forgotten. They could only stare at each other. Rou imagined Takeshi’s greeting at school that day, probably something witty like ‘Hey homo, how was your morning?’



Oh, it was fine Takeshi-senpai. My mom just got a full view of my recently-ejaculating, erect dick is all, no big deal. Then it somehow got more embarrassing from there!



Rou seemed to shrink into his mattress while he and his mother stared at each other. Finally, repeating “Oh my!” as an abjuration against further scandal, she put her hand over her mouth and rushed out of the room, leaving his sheets behind and shutting the door.



Rou lay back and stared at the ceiling. His entire life was turning into one constantly-revolving carousel of mortifying events! After a moment, Rou slid off his damp boxer shorts (always tough to get the waistband over his butt, it was so pronounced) and started to get ready for school. What else could he do? Short of literally crawling into a hole, he realized with sourness beyond his tender years, what could he do but continue on?



Tellingly, his little cock was still hard.



---



Rou’s thoughts were still on the strange events of the morning as he walked toward Higashi Takajō Gakuen Junior High, book bag slung jauntily over one shoulder. Beneath his schoolclothes, he was again wearing the panties Takeshi had given him. After his mother had gone to work (essentially fleeing the house out of pure awkwardness), Rou had laundered them himself. He did not know if Takeshi’s requirement that he wear them was a one time deal, but he didn’t intend to allow the 3rd-year boy any cause to claim the agreement had been breached.



“He didn’t even keep up his end of the bargain,” grumbled the 13-year-old to himself. “It was probably all a prank from the start.” Still, aside from the encounter with Takeshi and Nami in the washroom, none of Takeshi’s delinquent friends had bothered him. Perhaps that was a positive result, after a fashion. Rou walked a few more steps, past the closed ramen shop and bookstore, feeling the silk hip-huggers sliding against his pliant young flesh, wondering if it was worth it.



He caught a glimpse of a shop window, and his thoughts broke away. It happened to be the Hagame Dress Shop, and the display window featured several mannequins wearing the latest haute couture styles, along with smaller versions that advertised dresses for “Teen Girls”. It wasn’t the clothing that had caught Rou’s attention, though, it was his own reflection. The figure gazing back at him had large and expressive eyes, a slender face, and cheekbones that betrayed a delicate countenance beneath the perpetual blush. This spectre was no athlete. His shoulders were slender, his hands too small and delicate for manual labor. There was a fullness in the boy’s lips that was bee-stung, a fullness in his hips that was suggestive.



Be honest with yourself.



“No… this is wrong. I’m a guy, just like Takeshi,” Rou intoned, in defiance of what he was seeing.



Then why does that reflection have such a cute little nose? How come you’ve let your hair grow all the way down to your neck? How come you’re wearing a faggy yellow wool oversweater and carrying such a cute little bookbag?



“It’s a buckled book-tote,” said Rou, to no one. “Lots of people carry those to school.”



Lots of GIRLS carry those to school, you mean, his inner voice continued, and by the way, if you’re so manly, why is it that you can barely get your underwear on because your butt and hips are so round?



Rou had no reply. His eyes focused on the window. He saw his reflection, but he also saw the dress behind it, in a kind of overlapping double-image. A red dress with two shoulder straps and a skirt that cut off above the knee. As the images intermingled, it almost looked like his reflection was... wearing it.



And oh, how well it fit.



Rou uttered a dismayed squeal, cute in spite of himself, and started to school again. He had made himself late.



---



Arriving for homeroom 10 minutes after the morning chimes was new to Rou, though his tardiness had allowed him to avoid both Rikona and Takeshi in the halls, a silver lining. Nonetheless he found himself blushing at Miss Maeda’s disapproving stare as he walked into class, book-tote held apologetically in front of his thighs like a ward. Again, he was the center of attention, and he desperately wanted not to be. Though he knew it was impossible, he couldn’t stop the irrational feeling that everyone in class could tell he was wearing panties. What had Takeshi called him, in an almost affectionate-yet-mocking voice? Panties-kun? Oh, if the truth ever got out, he would just die!



“This isn’t like you, Himura,” Miss Maeda commented, and Rou found himself blushing and apologizing again before taking his seat. The rest of first period was mostly uneventful, aside fom the constant low buzz of semi-sexual tension he felt at wearing female undergarments in class. All of his willpower seemed insufficient to stifle the erection that threatened to blow his cover. The students seemed mostly oblivious, but there was something about the knowing way that Miss Maeda was looking at him that made him uneasy.



She knows! My big-boobed adult teacher can tell that my erect dick is wrapped in silken panties, right in the middle of class!



Rou tried to tell himself it was just paranoia. Meanwhile, the cute little turtle-head of his penis continued to leak as, somewhere in between the fractions and equations of first-period math, his subconscious found the time to dwell on the feeling of cool silk against his tight nutsack.



At end of period, Miss Maeda click-clacked her heeled way over to his desk and placed a small note on it before moving on. The miniature square stationery said:



NOTICE OF DISCIPLINARY REVIEW



Below that, Miss Maeda had written:



Unexcused lateness to class will not be tolerated! See me at end of day!



Rou looked at the note with dull surprise. A disciplinary intervention for being late just once? The raven-haired Miss Maeda, whose stylish red-rimmed spectacles seemed perpetually in danger of sliding off the front of her nose and onto the imposing shelf of her cleavage, seemed to be taking his minor infraction quite seriously. Again, Rou’s mind tried to find a silver lining.



If you have to stay after school, you won’t run into Takeshi on the way home.



He gathered the paper in one small hand and got up from his desk. For the rest of the day, he tried to keep eyes in the back of his head while wandering the halls, sure that Takeshi would pop out of nowhere to torment him again. At the same time, he was tormented by the silken feeling of girl’s underwear against his penis… tormented and comforted at the same time. He was keeping up his end of the deal, and it seemed like the older boy was finally keeping his. There were no third year boys waiting in the hall to tease him. Rikona gave him the usual boob-filled hug and asked when they were going to get married, but that was about it. The day seemed to fly by, and that was just fine with Rou - he’d had enough excitement in the morning to last him a lifetime. He still didn’t know how he was going to face his mother upon arriving home. Perhaps the two of them would just pretend it had never happened. The small boy’s thoughts about this impending confrontation were semi-constant, and so was the shameful feeling of tight underwear on his cock.



Rou stayed in homeroom after all of the other students had gathered their things and left, gossiping on the way out about who was dating who, their favorite idols, or what they were going to do in club meetings. When he was the only one left, sitting at his desk with his cute book-tote on his lap, Miss Maeda rose from her (much larger) desk and approached him. Rou couldn’t quite identify the strange look on her face. Was it… anticipation? He was starting to get a strange vibe from her.



The adult woman towered over him. If Rou had stood up, he would have bonked his chestnut-haired head into the underside of her jutting rack, but he didn’t dare move. It seemed to him that he was in for a scolding, and he resolved to take it like a man. A blushing, bottom-lip biting man, sure… but a man nonetheless. “Himura, we need to talk,” she said, hands on hips. A formidable female presence. Rou didn’t need to glance down to know that she was wearing red four-inch heels - he heard her click-clacking around in them all day at the whiteboard.



“Y-yes, ma’am?” he said, trying to sound respectful.



Miss Maeda leaned on his desk. The sun could have been shining in the class and Rou would never have had to worry about sunscreen, the way her breasts were shadowing him. He gulped. Things were getting a little too close for comfort, and the familiar feeling in his crotch was returning. Then, her mouth formed a phrase that shook Rou to his foundations.



“I know about the deal you made with Takeshi Shinzaki.” The words seemed to come out of plump, painted lips in slow-motion. To Rou, it was like witnessing a car accident. He tried in vain to keep a straight face, but as ever, he was hopeless at it. She knew! She somehow knew about… his panties!



“W-what, ma’am?” His cheeks were flushed, he could feel sweat on his smooth brow. He could barely meet her gaze, and in turning away, could feel her hot breath on the side of his face. That’s how close she had gotten. Rou’s face was just too cute and expressive to hide much. His mind screamed at him.



Oh, great job. You sound really convincing. Why not just give her a signed confession and get it over with. ‘My name is Rou Himura and I’m a hentai pervert who wears girls underwear in public!’



Miss Maeda gave him a knowing smile. “So, you’re going to play it coy, are you? Well, I don’t think one instance of lateness is cause for too much punishment. Come up to the whiteboard, write a few lines, and you can be done.”



Rou got up on unsteady legs. Miss Maeda didn’t give him much room, and he had to brush past her to get to the whiteboard, his cheek sliding against the bulging front of her jacket. Normally this small touch would have been bliss, but Rou was too busy worrying. How did she know about him and Takeshi? Did other people know? Was the whole school in on it, secretly laughing about how he was sitting in class every day with a pair of tight girly panties wrapped around his crotch? He felt liquid slide out of his cute little dick as he made his way to the whiteboard, and he heard MIss Maeda’s heels clicking behind him.



Right behind him.



She pressed against his back, breasts enveloping the back of his head, and wrapped her arms around his chest. Rou could only stifle a moan. “Mmnngh…”

Miss Maeda grabbed a large black marker, handling it in a rather phallic way, to Rou’s unpracticed eye, and held it in front of his face. “Want me to… uncap your marker for you, Himura?” More leaking into his panties. Her dexterous thumb flicked the lid off the writing implement with a suggestive pop.



“Umm…”



“Take it.”



Rou did, with a trembling hand. His cheeks were blushing so red… and that was nothing compared to the warmth he was feeling in his nether regions. Syrup was coming out of his penis and into his panties in a constant ebb!



“Now, write up here.” She tapped a spot just above the middle of the whiteboard. It was too high. Miss Maeda was a foot taller than Rou, and even with his hand stretched as high as it could go, there was no way he could properly write characters or numbers at the place she had tapped.



“I c-cant reach that high!” he protested, tears welling in his large, cute, expressive eyes. Oh, how girly he sounded! Why was everyone always picking on him? First Takeshi and Nami, and now Miss Maeda. Couldn’t Rou ever catch a break and encounter someone who wasn’t interested in touching his hair, picking him up and hugging him, teasing him in perverted ways, or pinching his round, 13-year-old bottom until he squealed for mercy? As he lamented his lot in life, Miss Maeda found the solution to his height problem.



“You’re a couple of inches short, Rou-kun,” she whispered in his wear, and oh god, her voice was suggestive and her breath was hot. “I’ve heard that about you. Don’t worry, though… I can help.” Bracing herself against the mantle below the whiteboard, Miss Maeda began to slide off her high-heels, revealing her shapely, stocking-clad feet. When she was done, the shoes lay there like an engraved invitation.



“Take off your shoes, Rou-kun,” she whispered in his ear. “I think these suit you better.”



Rou could barely even speak. His penis was an iron twig inside his panties as he submitted to her request, kneeling to untie his simple black shoes. His feet were proportioned similarly to the rest of him, being small and dainty, similar in size to Miss Maeda’s. It was as if the dimensions of his body were betraying him, a traitorous party to his own embarrassment!



Rou stood up and moved his foot toward the heel.



“Wait,” Miss Maeda chided. “Pants off, first.”



Rou gulped. He felt like his head was going to explode. He felt wetness spurt into his panties. “W-wait, Miss...Maeda…it’s wrong!” he began to stammer, but she cut him off at once.



“We won’t be interrupted,” she said. It was true. The door to the classroom had been closed and locked, and the windows didn’t face any other buildings. Rather, they looked out over the Higashi Takajō Gakuen courtyard. “Do as I say, Rou-kun. You were late. You have to be punished.”



Rou unbuckled his belt. Then, in front of his teacher, he slid his black pants down, over the curve of his buoyant boy-butt, causing the flesh to indent and then burst outward as the waistband passed over it. God, from behind she could see everything! She could see the way his panties struggled to contain his bum, the way they cradled his balls in a little bulge between his thighs! The pants dropped around his ankles and he stepped out of them.



“Put them on.” It was not a request, it was an order.



Rou slid the red high-heels onto his feet. They fit snugly, perfectly - a continuation of the cosmic conspiracy that seemed dedicated to embarrassing him. In seconds, Rou Himura, the adorable 13-year-old boy and first year student at one of Japan’s finer junior high schools, was standing in front of the whiteboard in heels and panties, looking at his teacher with a shameful and plaintive face. It was all too much!



But he could reach the spot on the board now, to write.



“Bend over and arch your back a little,” Miss Maeda ordered, and Rou did so. This caused his behind to thrust out. From the back, he looked like a petite but posteriorly endowed underwear model in a salaryman’s fetish magazine. Except for the little bulge of his balls, of course.



“Now write.”



“I-I don’t… I… I don’t know what to write!” he moaned. Rou could barely think or respond. His body was on fire, his mind exploding with utter humiliation. He was his teacher’s personal little plaything. If his little dick got any harder, Rou felt like it would explode off of his body. Which it almost did, when Miss Maeda drew closer and reached around… to touch it. The front of her skirt pressed against his buttocks, causing them to compress. Her boobs fell on his back as she leaned over him. And… her hand! Her hand! It slid into the waistband of his panties and took hold of his leaking, pulsating dick!



She whispered in his ear, licking his earlobe at intervals.



“Write… ‘I Am Panties-kun’,” she said.



“N...N-”



Takeshi’s voice seemed to invade his mind. Sure, write it. Give in. Give her what she wants, what the world wants. Show her what a cross-dressing little pervert you are. You think Rikona is ever going to want a guy like you? A guy who gets hard and leaks constantly just from wearing panties? How come your penis is so small, Rou-tan? How come your butt is so big? You’ll never pass along your genes or please a woman… but you can please the world by being the little plaything you are. It’s your destiny, Rou-tan.



“N...no!”  



She was jerking him off. Stroking him tightly, expertly. Rou shuddered, and after only a few seconds of her attentions, watery spurts of clear syrup began to spray from his penis and onto the front wall, below the mantle. His gorgeous eyes rolled back and he made an embarrassing face as his teacher handled his ejaculating dick.



“You came really fast,” Miss Maeda whispered in her ear, and then licked her semen glazed fingers in front of him, like a vampire trying to gain energy from his life force. “This turns you on, doesn’t it?”



Rou felt like he was going to collapse. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, answer aloud. The pleasure that had washed over him, mixed with utter shame and humiliation, defied description. If he could have seen himself in that moment, he wouldn’t have believed it. Bent forward against the whiteboard ledge, ass outthrust, legs trembling, weak-kneed, face flushed and moaning… he looked like a conquered virgin after her first orgasm.



Before he left class that day, he wrote ‘I Am Panties-kun’ on the whiteboard, 100 times.