My Bullies - Chapter Twenty-Three

Ethan's legs felt like jelly as they left the department store, the new jeans in a bag slung over Caleb's shoulder. The spot on his shorts had dried somewhat, but the pre-cum stain was still visible if anyone looked close. The mall was busier now—families, teens, shoppers milling around. Every glance felt like judgment; every laugh from a passing group made his stomach twist.

Caleb steered them toward a new store—a trendy underwear shop, bright lights and mannequins in skimpy briefs. "Let's get you some new pairs," he said casually, like it was nothing. The group filed in, browsing racks of colorful boxers, thongs, jocks.

Caleb picked out a few—bright red briefs, black mesh thongs, skimpy jockstraps. He handed them to Ethan. "Try these on."

Ethan glanced around—the store was open-plan, no enclosed changing rooms, just a small curtained area in the back that looked too small for privacy. "Here?" he whispered, heart pounding.

Caleb leaned in, voice low. "Right here. In the middle of the store. Drop the shorts. Show us how they fit."

Ethan's face drained of color. Shoppers browsed nearby—a mom with kids, a couple of guys his age flipping through socks. "No—I can't—people will see—"

Caleb's eyes locked on his—smoldering, intense, a mix of command and that pleading heat that made Ethan's resolve crumble every time. One look, and Ethan felt his resistance shatter. He nodded weakly, whispering "Okay."

The boys formed a loose circle around him, blocking some views but not all. Ethan hooked his thumbs into his shorts, shoving them down to his ankles. Naked from the waist down—smooth shaved cock and hole on display, already half-hard from the humiliation. A gasp from a nearby shopper; heads turned.

He grabbed the first pair—red briefs—and pulled them up quickly, fabric snug against his smooth skin. The boys whistled low. "Turn around," Tyler said. Ethan did, ass cheeks framed by the low-cut back.

"Off," Caleb ordered. "Next one."

Ethan stripped the briefs, naked again, cock twitching harder as more eyes lingered. A few teens whispered; an older guy stared openly. He pulled on the black mesh thong—see-through, leaving nothing to the imagination, his smooth hole visible through the sheer fabric.

They kept going—jockstrap next, straps framing his ass, pouch bulging with his growing erection. Each time he stripped fully naked between pairs, the boys picking new ones: neon green bikinis, lace-trimmed boyshorts, another jock in white.

A male teen store assistant noticed—probably 19, cute with a name tag reading "Alex." He approached, eyes widening but professional smile in place. "Need help with those?"

Caleb grinned. "Yeah, actually. Help him try the next pair."

Alex hesitated, but something in the group's vibe—or the mall's quiet corner—made him step in. He knelt in front of Ethan, hands "accidentally" brushing Ethan's cock as he helped pull off the current pair. Fingers grazed the smooth shaft, thumb "slipping" over the head, smearing pre-cum. Ethan bit his lip, stifling a moan.

Alex helped with the next—pink lace thong—hands lingering on Ethan's thighs, "adjusting" the back so fingers brushed his hole. Each touch was "accidental"—a graze here, a press there—but Ethan's cock leaked steadily, the humiliation building. Shoppers stared openly now; a small crowd formed at a distance, whispering.

Ethan was rock-hard, close to cumming from the eyes on him, the touches, the exposure. He shot Caleb a pleading look—eyes wide, desperate.

Caleb nodded once. "That's enough," he said, ending it. Alex stepped back, flushed himself.

Caleb bought several pairs—slutty thongs, jocks, mesh briefs—handing the bag to Ethan. "For next time."

They left the store together, Ethan red-faced, cock throbbing in his shorts, but they weren't done yet. Caleb's arm slung over his shoulder. "One more stop," he murmured.