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Wedgie Warlock: Chapter 1

Monstera Secondary is located in the northwestern suburb of Monstera, just up from Maribyrnong in Victoria, Australia. Named after the monstera deliciosa plant native here, the area is filled with luscious natural reserves and has the Maribyrnong river running through it. The school itself has just over 500 students attending, ranging from years 7 to 12. It’s the last week of school for the year and everything’s beginning to dwindle down. Exams are over, classes are wrapping up and the year 12s are getting ready to graduate. One of these seniors is Cody Thompson, a guy who’s spent the majority of high school at the bottom of the social ladder.

He’s reminded of this when in their final gym class for forever, he’s once again the last to be picked for a game of celebratory dodge ball. Well, not the absolute last: his bestie Timmy is in the same boat. Timmy has a flair for the dramatic and is almost always seen in the brightest coloured outfit ever (usually one he’s made). He’s a wannabe fashion designer and you can tell because of his comically large Anna Wintour-esque glasses and his artsy wavy fringe. But of course the two gay guys in class who hate sports are the inevitable last picks. If anything, this just gives them more time to gab while they wait to be reluctantly picked and placed on opposing teams (to then immediately both feign getting knocked out so they can continue chatting from the sidelines). Yeah no upon reflection, it totally makes sense that they’re always the last to get picked.

“Nobody’ll even ask me for help now,” Timmy says with a puff, crossing his arms and pouting as the two friends walk off of the court. “Y’know I used to be THE bitch everyone came to for their wardrobe needs, but one tiny hemming mistake for Queen Martha’s prom dress that was already uggo anyway and now the whole school’s acting like my sewing machine’s got chlamydia.”

“I think—” Cody attempts.

“Like WHO even wears a forest green dress? What are we, lord of the rings?”

“Maybe if—”

“That dress was ruined before she even put it on, the audacity of it all!”

The pop of Timmy’s tongue indicates that he has a million more things to say, but for now is done talking.

“I think,” Cody says now free to speak his mind, “considering how shitty Martha is to everyone in this school, ruining her senior formal dress is a victory in its own way.”

Timmy glances back towards Cody and the faintest grin spreads across his lips. “Well half the school already thinks I did it on purpose anyway so I might as well cash in on that.”

Timmy’s laughter roars throughout the oval, easily washing out the sounds of grunting and ball dribbling from the ongoing dodge ball game. Cody’s favourite thing about Timmy is that no matter how sour of a mood he’s in, one big laugh with his friend is enough to make him the cheeriest person on earth.

Anton, their other friend and mutual last-to-be-picked soon gets knocked out and joins them. Anton’s pretty short and scrawny-looking, and is almost always dressed in black from head to toe. Surprisingly, short introverted goth kid also isn’t a big hit when it comes to choosing dodge ball teams.

“You gave a pretty valiant effort, lasted at least a couple minutes,” Cody says.

“Why do I even try, Paddy and his bros are just gonna gang up on me anyway,” Anton sighs.

“Hey that doesn’t sound like that bad a predicament to be in,” Timmy says, nudging Anton and eliciting a welcome chuckle from the defeated goth kid.

“At least this is the last dodge ball game I’ll ever have to play in my life, no more reaping that sweet, sweet Level 1 privilege,” Anton says sarcastically.

With the rush of completing exams and graduating, Cody hadn’t even realised there’d only be one more week of La Chique.

A couple years ago, some trust fund babied rich twenty-something named Doug Richt-Watt developed La Chique, an app that keeps score of hierarchical social points based on peer voting. It was originally created as an experiment to monitor social status and bullying in high schools, but flash forward a few years and it’s become a completely normalised system of categorising people into 7 levels from the moment they turn 12. A school’s social hierarchy is very overt and calculable in this modern age.

Level 6s and 7s are the untouchables – the Goddesses. Queen divas like Martha are at this level, and are the pillars of pop culture. They come up with the latest TikTok dances, exclusively walk in slow motion and are the only ones Ariana Grande actually responds to on Twitter. Oh and any kid with rich parents automatically defaults to a Level 6 or 7.

The social middle ground comprises of Level 3s, 4s and 5s. For the most part, these levels are fairly chill. Level 5s are those who are well-off, not exactly celestial being status, but they’re able to enjoy the luxuries of a relatively good rung on the social ladder. Many jocks who aren’t the captain or star player default to this level, as well as those who contribute a lot to the student body such as people on the student representative council and senior formal organisers. Level 4 is generally regarded as the refuge that the storm surrounds, but doesn’t penetrate. No one really thinks much of the Level 4s, and they get to pretty much go through high school unscathed. Level 3s also enjoy the perks of this intermediate safety net, despite being on the verge of the lower ranks. The average band geek or theatre kid defaults here, provided they don’t do anything else deemed socially uncool.

That leaves the Level 1s and 2s, comprised of the nerds, the dorks and the outcasts – basically anyone who’s ever set foot in a library. This is the level Cody and Timmy are currently at, and have been for a while now. A week after La Chique was introduced at Monstera Secondary, some guy in the year above pantsed Cody in the courtyard revealing the whitest of tighty whities. Everyone in the immediate vicinity down voted him, reducing him to a Level 2. As he learnt the hard way that day, even underwear is delegated to the different levels: Brands like Versace, Calvin Klein, Hugo Boss and Box Menswear are typically reserved for Level 6s and 7s, while Levels 3 through 5 have Ethika, Bonds, Hollister and American Eagle. That leaves Levels 1 and 2 with brands such as Maxx, Kenji, Hanes and Fruit of the Loom, as well as any kind of tighty whitie. Additionally, any underwear that has the days of the week on the waistband are also pretty common for the lower levels, although they’re usually ripped straight off within a few hours of being displayed out in the open, leaving the victim to wear the day of the week around their neck for the rest of the day in shame.

Speaking of wedgies, Cody has a secret: He has a wedgie fetish. He’s hidden it for most of his life and has had it since he could remember. He can’t remember how it came about, just that one day he realised he really liked the feeling. He hasn’t even told Timmy about it even though the two have exchanged other secrets, but it’s mostly because Cody can’t even bring himself to say the word out loud. Whenever he hears someone mention a wedgie he becomes stunned like a deer in headlights, caught between trying to conceal such an intimate part of himself and pretend as if that word doesn’t imbue him with immediate lust. It almost came out a few years back when he turned on his laptop first thing in French class one morning and his googling about it from the night before was the first thing to come up on his screen, but he just quickly shut his lid and pretended it was out of charge for the rest of the day.

Luckily he’s never received a wedgie since the introduction of La Chique or else his score would go down even more as he’d likely be so flummoxed that his secret would somehow come out. Ever since the courtyard pantsing he’s done everything he could to climb his way up the ladder, but mostly to no avail. He tried running for school captain on the platform of getting a fine dining buffet in the cafeteria, but no one really cared and he ended up just insulting the canteen ladies, now getting his chicken nuggets only half-cooked and still a little frozen in the middle. He also tried volunteering as the referee for the school’s inter-state football team, but was booted off not even a week later because apparently knowing stuff about football is a requirement to being an umpire.

In spite of Cody’s low social status, he’s actually a pretty good student. When he’s not cramming pages of geometry notes, he’s off doing one of countless extra-curricular activities: yearbook, tutoring, swim team, debate team and orchestra. Being the concert master, he actually just lead the school’s orchestra to 1st place at the annual inter-school ensemble competition in Melbourne’s northwest. That’s a pretty good legacy to leave behind, even if it isn’t recognised by La Chique’s system.

“Are you really Level 1?” Timmy asks. “I always thought you were Level 2.”

“Nope, I’ve been Level 1 for quite a while now,” Anton says.

“Well I’ll miss our trio,” Timmy says, wrapping his arms around Cody and Anton and playfully noogie-ing them. “The Level 1 and 2 musketeers.”

Cody delicately removes himself from the trio hug. “When do La Chique totals finish?”

“Well graduation’s next week but I think they finish at the end of this week with our classes,” Timmy replies.

“What if I didn’t finish as a Level 2 but as a Level 3?”

Laughter bellowing throughout the oval is Timmy’s reply.

“You are bold! Very, very bold,” Timmy beams.

“What makes you think you could move up in such little time?” Anton asks.

“Think about it. Yearbook, swim team, concert master. Those are all traditionally Level 3 activities, I must be on the borderline between the two levels!” Cody says.

“I’ll be sure to say a prayer for you on Friday,” Timmy teases, “because there is no way you’re making Level 3 in four days. How are you even gonna go up a level?”

“Yeah you got a plan?” Anton chimes in.

“I… I’m working on one,” Cody says, only to be faced with stifled giggles from the other two.

The dodge ball game finishes up, and Coach Roz gathers everyone together for one final talk.

“I got two final things to say before you all leave,” the coach says. “First of all, if you participated in last week’s inter-school basketball match, please see Mrs Kent in room 401 after school to collect your medals. And finally, I know it’s our last class and as of this afternoon I’m no longer your coach, but I just thought I’d shoutout the new Gagarium athletic shorts that are available to purchase from the sports catalogue in our front office. They’re meant to be the most snug-fit and stretch-free shorts money can buy, so any of you who are continuing with sport in the future should go give them a look. Ok, class dismissed!”

As the week progresses, the final classes and goodbye speeches from teachers begin to rack up. English is particularly heart-warming, with Mrs Norton giving each student a personalised ‘grab life by the balls’ card, while Mr Clementine spends the whole class playing celebrity heads. Cody’s enjoying the bittersweet high school farewell, but the problem of ascending to Level 3 before the end of the week persists in his mind. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t come up with a solution.

By Thursday afternoon, he’s cleaning out his locker while waiting for Darren to meet him. In between chucking some loose papers into the recycling pile, Cody spots Darren appear on the staircase at the end of the hall, slowly trotting his way down. He instantly coils back to hide behind his locker door, frantically running his hands through his long curly brown hair and smoothing out his thick eyebrows. As incognito-ly as he can, he sniffs under his armpit, deciding after a couple seconds that he smells good enough. Forcing down an anxious breath, he closes his locker door and goes to meet Darren.

Since coming out at the beginning of the school year, Cody’s had several small crushes here and there, but none of them could ever compare to Darren. Darren Hart is the cutest boy in the entire year level – maybe (probably) even the entire world. His gelled back black hair and rosy pink cheeks that light up the entire room when he smiles are enough to get him into any successful boy band. Being the captain of the school’s footie team, Darren’s naturally a Level 6, but he also adorably plays flute in the same orchestra as Cody. He’s literally the perfect man.

Anyway back to this sexy fucker struttin’ his way on over with the goofiest grin on his face. Darren missed yesterday’s end of year orchestra meeting where the conductor gave out a small gold pin shaped like a treble clef for all the seniors, so of course Cody had graciously offered to hold onto Darren’s and pass it on to him at another time, which so happens to be today at 4:43pm. Cody usually doesn’t stay behind school this late, but Darren had a make-up geography test over 7th and 8th periods and for him, Cody’d do anything.

“Guess who just passed his test on the function and ecosystem of rivers in regional Victoria with a 65%? This guy!” Darren beams, walking up to bro-hug Cody (which subsequently melts every layer of his simping heart). A whiff of Coconut and Man PowerTM flirts its way to Cody’s nose, but he loves that Darren’s masculine ego relies on specific gendered marketing of body spray. Darren’s cool like that.

“You really did it dude,” Cody says, reluctantly detaching from the bro-hug. “So that means you pass the subject right?”

“Yep, just needed to re-do this one geography test, and now that it’s done I get to focus on graduation next week. I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Are you kidding? No, I love waiting, it’s my favourite, I… I mean I had some stuff to do so I was gonna stay behind anyway,” Cody says, blushing on the outside but screaming on the inside. His brain tends to switch off mid-sentence when he’s talking with Darren. “But— yeah anyway here’s the pin in all her glory.”

“Whoa,” Darren says as he picks up the pin from Cody’s palm, “so this is the legendary pin. Honestly feels… pretty underwhelming.”

“I mean it’s still just a pin,” Cody laughs. “Still… three years of orchestra together summed up in that one pin… I mean, like, three years of orchestra together as an ensemble, not together as in… y’know, altogether like all forty of us,” he trails off.

Luckily Darren’s too busy pinning the treble clef onto his letterman jacket to notice Cody’s crush-fuelled awkwardness. He puts his hands on his hips and strikes a few hero poses. “How do I look?”

“Like a million bucks.”

The afternoon sun shines in from the outside, cloaking the two in what could only be described as cinematic romcom lighting. Not that this is a romcom of course, but if it were this would totally be the bit where one of them leans in for a kiss, startling the other a little, but ultimately fuelling the most passionate and steamy make-out sesh this school has ever seen! This is when the idea pops into Cody’s brain: Get with Darren!

Being a popular guy, Cody never even thought of making advances towards Darren as he’s just so out of his league. But the two have a rather close bond for a Level 6 and a Level 2, so maybe with this summer lovin’ school’s out romcom lighting Darren will see him in a different light?

“Anyways I gotta rush off but thanks dude, really appreciate it,” Darren says

Darren walks past Cody and out the building. Yep, this isn’t a romcom. Or really any piece of media where Cody’s the main character and Darren’s the love interest he ends up with by the end of the movie. Darren’s always been one of the most popular guys in school, and Cody’s, well… He’s a Level 2. By the laws of this school’s social code, he’s simply not on Darren’s level.

“Well what’s this little nerd doing stickin’ around after class?”

Cody turns around to find Jono and his gang of bullies huddling together at the end of the hallway. And by gang, it’s just Jono’s two friends from kindergarten who are twins and are named Tim and Jim. They don’t really leave much of an individual impression and are just slightly less intimidating carbon copies of Jono, who’s the real guy to worry about.

Jono’s family is rich, like truffled cocaine for morning tea rich. They’re the main contributors to the school’s funding and as a result, the staff just kind of let him do whatever he wants. He almost lit the oval on fire in a rando Bunsen-burner theft two years ago, but the worst he got was an informal warning and litter duty for two days.

For a split second, Cody thinks he’s the target of this torment, but one of the twin douches step back revealing Anton’s trembling body to be the true prey. “Please,” Anton begs, “clarinet practice finished late, and I just want to quickly get my things and go home.” Anton’s shoving books and scraps of paper into his backpack. His locker is on the bottom row, leaving him a perfect target for—

Anton screams as Jono and the twin douches cackle. It’s the dreaded wedgie lift. Anton’s backpack falls to the floor as he’s lifted high up into the air by Jono, his feet flailing underneath him. Anton squeals as his underwear betrays further up his back and reaches his shoulder blades, the tighty whities providing a dazzling contrast from his all-black outfit.

“How’s that underwear taste nerd?” Jono taunts, bouncing Anton up and down by his undies, the fabric beginning to rip just beneath the waistband.

“Please stop!” is all Anton can muster in-between yells.

Cody’s frozen in place as all this unfolds. These hallways aren’t unacquainted with the occasional wedgie, but usually Cody can just blend into the swarm of students buzzing around, rushing to get to class. Now, it’s just him, the bullies and Anton getting the most painful wedgie of his life. Cody can’t just be a silent bystander, not while his friend’s getting tormented.

Pushing aside his secretive fears, Cody snaps back to reality as his friend screeches in pain. He lunges forward, grabbing one of the scrunched up balls of paper from his locker and pelting it at Jono’s forehead. Although triumphant and heroic in Cody’s head, the balled up paper just flops off Jono’s head and onto the ground gingerly. He now realises this actually doesn’t really accomplish much and just puts a huge target on his back.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jono turns to face Cody, dropping Anton to the ground.

Cody’s eyebrows furrow. “Cody Thompson, I’m in the same year as you dude! We took English together last year? I’m treasurer on the student representative council??”

“We have a student council?” Jono yells.

“Anyway, I uh… I just think that what you’re doing, the… the… the bullying… it’s wrong, and stuff!” Cody nervously shouts.

Jono’s laugh bellows throughout the hallway. “You picked the wrong day to be Mr Superhero, kid.”

In an instant, Jono dunks Anton’s wedgied corpse into a trashcan and propels himself to Cody, punching him in the face and kneeing him to the ground. Cody barely has any time to retaliate before Jono thrusts his fingers into the back of his pants. Regardless of how many times Cody begs “no, please no!”, Jono cackles and yanks his boxer briefs up into the air, immediately ripping them. This doesn’t stop Jono though, as he continues to pull and pull and pull, ripping Cody’s shredded underwear further up his back and over his head. One final thrust onto the floor and all Cody can feel is pain as the sound of the bullies’ laughter trails off down the hallway.

Holy fuck was that a bad idea. An astronomically, atomically bad idea. Cody can’t even remember the last time he got a wedgie this bad, that still felt this good. He’s a concoction of pleasure yet pain, indulgent sin yet apathetic innocence. Thankful for the loose khakis that hide the throbbing in his nether regions, he slowly sits up to rest his throbbing head on a nearby locker. Where does he start – unpick the wedgie that’s halfway to his kidneys or unhook what used to be the backside of his favourite pair of purple Maxx boxer briefs that now obstructs his vision?

Luckily he doesn’t have to choose as a pair of hands unhooks the atomic wedgie for him, and helps him slowly stand up.

“Thanks for helping me out back there,” Anton says.

“No problem,” Cody replies, grimacing as he probes his fingers between his cheeks and unpicking the wedgie. “Just don’t ask me to do it again any time soon.”

“That must’ve really hurt. I’ve never seen underwear just rip like that,” Anton admits.

 “It’s, uh, not too bad— it’s manageable, the pain,” Cody says, recalling several ripping wedgies he’s given himself in the privacy of his bedroom. “I bet I’ve just become a top priority on Jono’s bully list though.”

“Look… Yeah. Yeah you absolutely have.”

“I knew Jono was bad, I mean I’ve heard the rumours. But I’ve never seen him pick on anyone before like that. Has he done this before?” Cody asks.

“Try the past few months, everyday after school. I always stick around because my dad works late, and somehow Jono always seems to find me.”

“Wow… I’m sorry, man, that’s rough.”

“Just classic Level 1 stuff,” Anton sighs.

Through Cody’s mad pursuit to reach Level 3, he’s reminded now that even within his low level status, there are still those who have it worse than him. Sure he’s never been popular, but he also can get through most days without full-on bullying.

“I’ve always wanted to like, be able to backflip and take people out like they do in the movies but the second that wedg— that…,” Cody stutters, pausing for a couple seconds. “The second he got a hold of my underwear, I was a goner. I wish there was a way to never experience anything like that again. Like something that made us bully-proof, some kryptonite that meant that Jono couldn’t torment us and that we wouldn’t leave school grounds freeballing it.”

Anton gasps. “Oh my god, I know the perfect thing! You know those Gagarium trunks Coach Roz was talking about in class today?

“The ones that are like sweat-proof or something?”

“They’re meant to be durable and no-stretch so they’re a snug fit for athletes, meaning—”

“That means no intense ripping wedgies!” Cody beams.

After shoving the loose strands of underwear in their pants, Cody and Anton make their way to the front office. Flipping through the sports catalogue, Cody spots the Gagarium trunks and shows it to the lady at the front desk.

“Y’know these are usually limited to Level 4s and above, but that’s been waivered for health and fitness week,” the front desk lady says aloofly as she ducks next door. She reappears with two packaged White Gagarium trunks. “White’s all we have left I’m afraid.”

“They’re perfect, they’ll help sell the ruse,” Cody whispers to Anton.

In the foyer, they stop to read the description on the back packaging:

“Brand-new synthetic material Gagarium makes this line of thermal boxer briefs the ideal choice for the modern athlete. Made with enhanced durability, 0.1% stretch rate and reinforced metallic-like stitching, this product is everything you need to be your best sporty self,” Cody reads.

“These are gonna be a game-changer. 6 months of gruesome torture at the hands of Jono all coming to an end,” Anton grins.

“This is my way into Level 3!” Cody smirks. “When Jono tries to, y’know, get us tomorrow and he can’t even yank ‘em up, then he will have been outsmarted by two dorks and everyone will see.”

The next day at school passes by pretty quickly. Cody shares most of his classes on Fridays with Timmy, so at least he has someone he can joke with in-between classwork. The last bell rings and Cody rushes to find Anton. The two had agreed to stick together after school in case of any atomic confrontations with Jono.

“How’s your day been Cody?” Anton asks, shutting his locker door as the two begin to pile out of the locker bay.

“Pretty bland, you?”

“Yeah alright… No confrontations with Jono though.”

Cody frowns. “I bet we can find him and get him to fall for our bait. I think he usually hangs out on the oval on Fridays.”

The two weasel their way through the bustle of students, running back through the cafeteria and out to the oval. A soccer match is just wrapping up, and a flock o’ jocks pass the pair as they gingerly wait on the side of the oval. Through the wired fence that encases the oval, Cody can see people walking past to the underpass that leads to the nearby train station. Seeing all these people cheerfully head home for the weekend, he wonders where Jono could be. According to Timmy, La Chique totals close at 4pm, meaning Cody has less than an hour to fulfil his plan.

“Knowing Jono he’s probably got detention for something,” Anton mutters after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” Cody agrees. “Well look if he isn’t here by 4pm we can just head home. Timmy and I are gonna play some Smash Bros at mine, you’re welcome to join.”

“My dad probably wouldn’t allow it,” Anton says. “Immigrant Asian parents, y’know the usual.”

Cody nods. He’s blessed with a shit ton of white privilege, but he’s heard from Timmy of the minor irritations of having strict Thai parents. Even with Timmy parents though, Cody’s only ever witnessed their leniency, but that’s probably because the two have been best friends for so long they’re like brothers.

“Thanks though,” Anton smiles.

“They must be proud you’re graduating though,” Cody says.

“Yeah… I mean I think they are, but all they ever go on about is finding a job and building a career. Taking a second to appreciate achievements isn’t really in their blood.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Cody says. He’s about to tell Anton that he should be proud no matter what his parents think but the unforgettable voice of idiocy and the stench of barbecue crisps mixed with unwiped asshole interrupts him.

“Whadd’ya know, it’s my two favourite losers,” pipes Jono, who’s walking across the oval with Tim and Jim behind him. “All lined up, ripe for my picking.”

“Hey Jono, come here to pick on us to fill the void of love you never received from your rich daddy?” Cody taunts.

A flame flickers across Jono’s eyes as Cody shares a smirk with Anton.

“Oh you nerds are asking for it today!”

Jono lunges forward, pushing Anton to the floor and grabbing Cody in a headlock. After a few furious noogies and one wet willy, he reaches down Cody’s back, grabbing onto his waistband and tugs.


Jono tugs again, harder this time, but the underwear simply will not go up. Apart from the slightest of pressure Cody can feel being applied, his butt remains unscathed, waistband and leg holes where they should be.

“You know Jono, you really should’ve thought twice about trying to do anything  with my new Gagarium trunks,” Cody gloats loudly, projecting his voice for anyone nearby to hear. “Their enhanced synthetic durability renders them practically un-stretchable.”


“No more ripping wedgies,” Anton chimes in, “no more atomic wedgies. No more wedgies, full stop. These new boxer briefs are stretch-proof and rip-proof, so suck on that!”

The two beam at each other as Jono and the twins are left dumbfounded.

“Huh… so no matter what I do, these undies will not break?” Jono asks.


Jono’s eyes widen and his shock is replaced with a feral, more sinister look on his face. He beckons for the twin douches to step forward and they do, shoving both Cody and Anton forward and pinning them against the oval fence.

“You know nerds, you really should’ve thought twice before showing up to school and basically begging me to give you both never-ending hanging wedgies.”

Cody doesn’t even have time to react before Jono pantses him, grabbing the bottom of his snug-fit leg holes and lifting him up high onto the fence. Cody yells and kicks about, but Jono’s too strong, prompting Cody to make a mental note that he definitely needs to YouTube how to do a backflip and take people the fuck out. Tim and Jim similarly lift Anton up, and within seconds, both Cody and Anton have been hooked onto the wired fence, their sliced-in-two bare asses facing the path full of students going home behind them. Laughter surrounds the two, who can only squirm as their Gagarium underwear proves itself to be un-rippable. As it turns out, an extreme hanging wedgie by the leg-holes bypasses all of the durability features of the boxer briefs, and it’s just any other excruciatingly painful hanging wedgie.

“You two ever hear of the legend of the wedgie warlock? A bully so powerful he could yank nerds’ underwear by the power of his own mind?” Jono teases, pulling on Cody’s legs to make for an even more painful wedgie.

“That’s just a schoolyard myth,” Cody spits out.

“Destined to cause havoc wherever he went,” Jono goes on, as if not hearing Cody. “I might as well be a wedgie warlock ‘cos I can wedgie you two losers in my sleep! Ha! On my deathbed you two will be right beside me, tighty whities in my knuckled fists as you two squirm out the hospital window. And as I take my last breath, I’ll die knowing at least I lived a life of honour.”

Jono cackles, tauntingly stroking Cody’s face as he continues to writhe. The feeling of the pressure from the underwear pushing down against his balls kicks in, causing the inevitable hard-on. He tries to telepathically communicate with his elated dick to stand down, but it’s no use, his erection that’s not ESP-enabled on full display due to the pantsing. Upon noticing this, Jono shrieks with laughter.

“What is this?! Are you actually enjoying this you faggot! Look, nerd boy’s fully erect!”

“W—What? No, I just really need to piss, dickhead!” Cody yells back.

Luckily the crowd on the other side of the fence can’t see what Jono’s referencing, but they’re definitely able to watch him throw a very hard and painful blow right into Cody’s groin, eliciting a high-pitched yelp and causing his vision to go blurry for a few seconds.

“Let it be known,” Jono says as he turns to the onlookers, “this is what happens to dweebs who don’t know their place.”

Cody turns to Anton, but it’s like he’s shut down, lost in pain and embarrassment. A few phone camera shutter clicks and a wave of bell sounds he recognises as the down vote button wash over the crowd, signalling Cody’s ascent to Level 3 is well and truly out of the picture. All those attempts to leave the lower levels and graduate with at least some dignity are no more than a pipe dream now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Darren, sweet perfect amazing Darren, walk past, around the crowd and down the road. The two’s eyesight lock for a brief moment, but Darren looks down, walking faster out of sight. Cody’s asshole might be on fire right now, but nothing could ever be more painful than seeing Darren walk past.

Slowly, Jono, the twins and the crowd start to leave, until it’s just Cody and Anton hanging by their “wedgie-proof” underwear. Minutes pass. The school’s abandoned, with everyone hurrying home to get a start to their holiday break. But not Cody and Anton. No matter their attempts to get down, they just continue to hang, ever so slightly swinging back and forth against the fence. Cody’s phone rings at one point, probably Timmy asking where he is, but he can’t even reach his pants round his ankles to answer.

“I’d kill to give that loser what he deserves,” Anton says through gritted teeth.

“A-fucking-men,” replies Cody. Although truth be told, he just wants to get out of this wedgie and go home.

By this point, the fabric is beginning to really tear away at Cody’s asshole, as if his body has accepted the fabric as a part of him and is merging it with the rest of his being, no longer a human but the embodiment of pain and shame. This hanging wedgie certainly tops yesterday’s wedgie in a heartbeat. Hell, 50 ripping atomic wedgies aren’t even enough to beat the sheer humiliation this hanging wedgie has been. He always thought getting a public hanging wedgie like this would be secretly incredibly hot, but hanging here now with his bits on fire just waiting to be let down is enough to turn any wedgie boy’s erection soft.

Cody stares at the ground, wishing to feel the soft fake oval grass against his feet. The cool wind tickles his exposed legs, and he wonders if he’s ever felt so utterly helpless before. Closing his eyes, he clears his mind, leaving just the agonising sensation in his groin. Why won’t these boxer briefs just give way? He’s been hanging for almost half an hour, and not even a single tear? Surely even synthetic Gagarium underwear can’t hold up forever against his whole body weight.

With a thud, Cody lands on the ground. His head spins for a few seconds, but he quiveringly sits up, looking back at the fence where he was just hanging from. Maybe Gagarium isn’t as rip-proof as it was marketed.

“How in the world…?”

Cody peels some fake oval grass off his face and snaps back to reality. Anton. Get Anton down.

“Just a sec Anton, I’m gonna get you down—”


Cody turns to see Jono and the twin doofuses flying across the oval towards them. A shriek escapes Cody’s lips as he freezes, torn between helping Anton and running for his fucking life. He meets Anton’s eyes, staring in bewilderment as Anton furiously writhes to be let down.

“I’m so sorry Anton.”


Cody yanks his backpack onto his shoulders and pounces onto the fence, climbing up and over it to the other side just as Jono and the twins arrive. He falls onto the pathway, stumbling as the yells of the bullies chase him all the way down the path and into the underpass. One last glance shows the trio swarming Anton’s helpless body, his screams drowned out by the sound of Cody’s heart beating in his chest.

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