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  Finally.
  I slowly stood up from the desk in the corner of my room and flopped down onto bed. I was finally done with my homework. Thankfully, it was a Friday, so I had the next two days completely free. I hit the pillow with a hard yawn, ready to strip down and pass out for the night, when I heard a sharp knock on my door.
  "Daniel?"
  It was my dad. I immediately bolted upright.
  "Open the door, Daniel. I need to talk to you right now."
  There was something in his tone I didn't like. It didn't sound like the usual him. He must have had a bad day at work, and hearing about what happened at school today certainly wouldn't ease that foul mood. There was no use in putting it off. With Dad, you have to just be straight to the point. With a sigh, I got up out of bed and opened the door. The look in his eyes was unpleasant to say the least. To just look at him when he's like that makes me nervous. Yup, definitely a bad day at work. Whenever he has days like this...
  "May I come in?" he asked, calmly.
  Major red flag: if he looks pissed, but is talking in a calm manner, you don't wanna screw with him. The calmer he sounds, or the lower his tone gets, the angrier he is.
  "Y-yeah, of course," I stammered as I backed away.
  He stepped in and shut the door behind him, never taking his eyes off me. Major red flag: my dad's like a dog. He never takes his eyes off the bone.
  "So, I got a call from your principal, today," he started.
  I knew what it was about. He was just waiting to see my response. I swallowed hard.
  "L-look, Dad, I can explain..."
  Before I could even finish the thought, he grabbed my shoulders, whirled me around, and shoved his hands down my jeans. In that split second, his hands coiled around the waistband of my Calvin Kleins, and before I could utter one syllable in protest, he yanked up. In the blink of an eye, I was off my feet and in the air as my tighty whities once again invaded places they had no business being in, cutting deeply into me and crushing my boy bits under the pressure of my weight. I involuntarily let out a yelp as I reflexively cupped my hands around my balls. My dad had already gotten the back up to my shoulders in one pull.
  "Okay," he said after he lifted me off the floor. "Explain."
  I didn't answer right away. I was in too much shock from the pain. Eventually, he started bouncing me up and down, with each bounce jamming my briefs further up my butt. After about a minute, he stopped.
  "Ex...plaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiin," he hissed. He was getting angrier.
  He took one hand off the back of my underwear and turned me to face him, using his now free hand to grab the front of my briefs. He didn't pull up, but I knew he'd do it if I tried lying to him. Somehow, he always knows when people are lying to him.
  "Th-there was this eighth grader th-that was running his hands all over Claire. You know, the girl I have an insane crush on?"
  He gave a light tug on the front. "Keep going."
  "A-and she kept telling him to back off, but his wouldn't. S-so she spit on him, and he...w-well, he called her a..."
  "A what?"
  I gave him a pleading look." "Dad, I don't even like thinking about it..."
  He let go of the back. With his firm grip on the front, my underwear slid across my butthole, burning me severely before crushing my nuts. I let out a pained squeal as I fought so hard not to cry from it. Why won't this damned underwear rip? Oh, right, Dad always buys the really strong stuff.
  "He. Called. Her. A. What?" Dad repeated. Geez, what happened at work today?
  "AAAAAAGH...Th-the C-word! H-he called her the C-word!" I squeaked out.
  Dad took a moment to process it, then grabbed the back and let go of the front. My underwear slid across to the back, and it burned even more. I was still fighting off the tears, but it was so hard. It hurt so much. Why is it always a stupid wedgie?
  "Daniel...have you ever heard the 'sticks and stones' expression..."
  "Th-then he slapped her across the face!"
  Dad's expression softened up a little. Neither of us likes seeing girls get hit. He let go of my waistband and let me drop to the floor. I started rubbing my sore butt and crotch.
  "And did she, at any point, ask you to intervene?"
  I looked up at him, dumbfounded that he'd even ask that.
  "I was RIGHT there!" I protested. "It's not exactly a secret that I have an insane crush on her!"
  "That doesn't matter," he replied. "Not every girl needs you to come to her aid."
  "B-but..."
  "No 'Buts', son. Look, I understand you wanting to protect your friend, and I'm proud of you for that. But what happens when you get sent to detention or expelled? You were lucky Marcus and I got you off the hook for that thing that happened with Alex a few months ago (author's note: see my story "Trouble With Bullies"). But you can't just go around punching people to defend your friend's honor. You have to let the school take care of it."
  Anger boiled inside of me as I listened to this lecture. He couldn't be serious. He knows the school just swept what was happening to Alex under the rug. I wasn't about to budge on this. Some people say I'm too stubborn for my own good. Grandpa says I get it from my dad.
  "And what's the school gonna do?!" I snapped. "You know for a fact they did nothing when Alex was being picked on! What makes you think they're gonna do ANYTHING when...?!"
  I guess that just pissed him off again. He reached down and grabbed my underwear from both sides again, lifting me up off the floor. I kicked my legs and flailed my arms, hoping against hope that he'd let me go. All it did was make the wedgie cut deeper.
  "You can't be her defender all the time, Daniel. I tried that with your mother, and all it ever brought me was pain and humiliation."
  "B-but I'm not YOU!"
  He sighed. "You're not listening to me."
  Before I could protest any more, he carried me over to my wide open closet door and hooked my waistband over the coat rack.
  "I'll be back in a bit."
  He then walked out, leaving me to dangle in the air. I kicked and squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position and getting nowhere. Then again, it's impossible to be comfortable when you're being held in mid-air by your underwear, the front is hugging your midriff, and the back is almost at the top of your head. Eventually, I just slumped over, staring at my feet in shame as I continued to sink further into the wedgie. Why does it ALWAYS have to be a wedgie? Eventually, I looked up at my clock to see that fifteen minutes had passed. Fifteen minutes, and the back was well above my head, the waistband hugging my armpits. I couldn't feel my legs anymore, and the floor was still a long way off. As I slumped back down, I heard the front door open. I immediately looked to my bedroom door, praying it was Mom so she could get me down. But that hope immediately disappeared when I heard HER voice.
  "Sooooooo...where is he?"
  Oh, crap! Not Claire! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, not her! ANYONE but her! Why is she here?! Did Dad bring her over?! To humiliate me more, I bet.
  "His room's right upstairs. Here..."
  Panic set in. My heart was racing, and my fingers fumbled with the metal hook that just refused to give in to my weight. I tried to push against the wall to close the door. That got me nowhere because of the old binder I use for a door stop. The chair at my desk was too far out of reach, and so was my desk. I was completely trapped with no way out. And Dad knew it.
  "Right in here," my dad stated.
  A second later, she appeared.
  "Hey, Daniel? You father asked me to come over and...ooooooh, wow..."
  God, why is she so beautiful? Tall, athletic, dark hair, tanned skin, and the most piercing hazel eyes. Her cheek was still bruised from where that jerk smacked her. When she saw me, she had this weird look, like she didn't know whether to laugh or feel bad or me. I could feel my face turn red. Redder than red.
  "S-so, er..." I could tell she didn't quite know how to say it. "Your dad, uh...gives you wedgies?"
  I looked away, too embarrassed to respond.
  "Don't be embarrassed. I have four older brothers, and they do that to each other...and to me...all the time."
  I looked at her, completely surprised. It's not every day you hear a cheerleader admit to being no stranger to wedgies. I didn't know what to say.
  "Look...thank you...for coming to my defense, Daniel."
  "Is your cheek okay?" is all I could get out.
  "Y-yeah, it's fine. I just put some ice on it. It looks like you're a lot worse off than me, though," she said with a grin.
  "I'm used to it," I muttered.
  Awkward pause.
  "Daniel, I...I just came over to tell you that...I don't wanna see you get hurt."
  "Claire, what that guy called you, what he did to you..."
  "I know, and I get it. But I don't need you getting yourself hurt on my behalf."
  "B-But, Claire..."
  "I can take care of myself, Daniel. Trust me."
  She was every bit as stubborn as me. Gotta admire that. But it doesn't mean I didn't wanna be there when somebody hurt her. I sighed.
  "Sorry...I just...I don't like seeing the people I love get hurt."
  She gave me a questioning look.
  "Love?"
  Oh, crap! Did I REALLY just say that out loud?
  "Y-yeah," I replied, nervously, "...people I care about. Friends, family. You know. Love, hehe..."
  No, you idiot! You couldn't possibly make this any more obvious!
  "Okay...if you want me to, I'll ease up. But if you ever need a friend..."
  She started blushing. Looking back on it, she probably knew what I was getting at.
  "Thank you."
  With that, she gave me a hug--which kinda pulled me down further, though I didn't mind as much--and a kiss on the cheek. I felt the spot where she kissed me as I watched her leave. It was warm. A few minutes later, my dad walked back in with this smirk on his face.
  "Real smooth, son," he said.
  I looked away. I didn't wanna talk to him right now.
  "I mean...love..."
  When he said that, I started to fully grasp what I just said.
  "Dad, you don't...you don't think she...caught on...to what I was trying to say, do you?"
  He just shook his head.
  "You're a talented boy, Daniel, but you're terrible at hiding things from people."
  That sentence alone sent my heart into the pit of my stomach. She knows!
  "Hey, at least she's familiar with your position."
  "Sh-shut up. Don't try to pretend you didn't act this same way around Mom when you were my age."
  He shrugged. "Yeah, I did. But at least I wasn't hanging by my briefs when I told her I loved her."
  With that, he turned to leave the room, switching the light off and shutting the door in the process.
  "Good night, Daniel. I'm sure your mother can get you down."
  "What?! You're not seriously gonna leave me here like this?!"
  But he did. No matter how loud I screamed and how much I pleaded. Eventually, I just gave up and tried to go to sleep. It was just after midnight when I heard the front door open. After about a minute, I heard a set of footsteps coming up the stairs. They stopped at my door, which opened. The light came on. It was my mom, extremely tired.
  "Daniel? Honey? Your father asked me to talk to...oh, my God..."
  I was groggy, delirious.
  "Ma-moooooom?" I moaned.
  Mom rolled her eyes and groaned, "Adaaaaaaam...!"
  She immediately softened her tone.
  "Lemme get you down from there."
  She came over and got me off the coat rack.
  "I can't feel my legs..."
  "The feeling will come back after a good night's sleep," she replied as I slumped over her shoulder.
  "I just wanted to protect Claire. That's all I wanted to do..."
  "You can tell me everything in the morning."
  She lay me face-down on the bed, then removed my jeans. She then slowly, carefully pulled my underwear from my buttcrack. I cried in pain as it was finally, mercifully dislodged.
  As she wadded up the remains of my underwear, she asked, "Do you wanna sleep in a fresh pair or you just want a pair of sweatpants?"
  "Sweatpants..."
  I fell asleep after she slipped them on. The next morning, she came to my room, and I told her everything. When I told her I just wanted to be there for Claire, she simply smiled.
  "Your father was like that around me when we were your age, too."

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

  Finally.
  I slowly stood up from the desk in the corner of my room and flopped down onto bed. I was finally done with my homework. Thankfully, it was a Friday, so I had the next two days completely free. I hit the pillow with a hard yawn, ready to strip down and pass out for the night, when I heard a sharp knock on my door.
  "Daniel?"
  It was my dad. I immediately bolted upright.
  "Open the door, Daniel. I need to talk to you right now."
  There was something in his tone I didn't like. It didn't sound like the usual him. He must have had a bad day at work, and hearing about what happened at school today certainly wouldn't ease that foul mood. There was no use in putting it off. With Dad, you have to just be straight to the point. With a sigh, I got up out of bed and opened the door. The look in his eyes was unpleasant to say the least. To just look at him when he's like that makes me nervous. Yup, definitely a bad day at work. Whenever he has days like this...
  "May I come in?" he asked, calmly.
  Major red flag: if he looks pissed, but is talking in a calm manner, you don't wanna screw with him. The calmer he sounds, or the lower his tone gets, the angrier he is.
  "Y-yeah, of course," I stammered as I backed away.
  He stepped in and shut the door behind him, never taking his eyes off me. Major red flag: my dad's like a dog. He never takes his eyes off the bone.
  "So, I got a call from your principal, today," he started.
  I knew what it was about. He was just waiting to see my response. I swallowed hard.
  "L-look, Dad, I can explain..."
  Before I could even finish the thought, he grabbed my shoulders, whirled me around, and shoved his hands down my jeans. In that split second, his hands coiled around the waistband of my Calvin Kleins, and before I could utter one syllable in protest, he yanked up. In the blink of an eye, I was off my feet and in the air as my tighty whities once again invaded places they had no business being in, cutting deeply into me and crushing my boy bits under the pressure of my weight. I involuntarily let out a yelp as I reflexively cupped my hands around my balls. My dad had already gotten the back up to my shoulders in one pull.
  "Okay," he said after he lifted me off the floor. "Explain."
  I didn't answer right away. I was in too much shock from the pain. Eventually, he started bouncing me up and down, with each bounce jamming my briefs further up my butt. After about a minute, he stopped.
  "Ex...plaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiin," he hissed. He was getting angrier.
  He took one hand off the back of my underwear and turned me to face him, using his now free hand to grab the front of my briefs. He didn't pull up, but I knew he'd do it if I tried lying to him. Somehow, he always knows when people are lying to him.
  "Th-there was this eighth grader th-that was running his hands all over Claire. You know, the girl I have an insane crush on?"
  He gave a light tug on the front. "Keep going."
  "A-and she kept telling him to back off, but his wouldn't. S-so she spit on him, and he...w-well, he called her a..."
  "A what?"
  I gave him a pleading look." "Dad, I don't even like thinking about it..."
  He let go of the back. With his firm grip on the front, my underwear slid across my butthole, burning me severely before crushing my nuts. I let out a pained squeal as I fought so hard not to cry from it. Why won't this damned underwear rip? Oh, right, Dad always buys the really strong stuff.
  "He. Called. Her. A. What?" Dad repeated. Geez, what happened at work today?
  "AAAAAAGH...Th-the C-word! H-he called her the C-word!" I squeaked out.
  Dad took a moment to process it, then grabbed the back and let go of the front. My underwear slid across to the back, and it burned even more. I was still fighting off the tears, but it was so hard. It hurt so much. Why is it always a stupid wedgie?
  "Daniel...have you ever heard the 'sticks and stones' expression..."
  "Th-then he slapped her across the face!"
  Dad's expression softened up a little. Neither of us likes seeing girls get hit. He let go of my waistband and let me drop to the floor. I started rubbing my sore butt and crotch.
  "And did she, at any point, ask you to intervene?"
  I looked up at him, dumbfounded that he'd even ask that.
  "I was RIGHT there!" I protested. "It's not exactly a secret that I have an insane crush on her!"
  "That doesn't matter," he replied. "Not every girl needs you to come to her aid."
  "B-but..."
  "No 'Buts', son. Look, I understand you wanting to protect your friend, and I'm proud of you for that. But what happens when you get sent to detention or expelled? You were lucky Marcus and I got you off the hook for that thing that happened with Alex a few months ago (author's note: see my story "Trouble With Bullies"). But you can't just go around punching people to defend your friend's honor. You have to let the school take care of it."
  Anger boiled inside of me as I listened to this lecture. He couldn't be serious. He knows the school just swept what was happening to Alex under the rug. I wasn't about to budge on this. Some people say I'm too stubborn for my own good. Grandpa says I get it from my dad.
  "And what's the school gonna do?!" I snapped. "You know for a fact they did nothing when Alex was being picked on! What makes you think they're gonna do ANYTHING when...?!"
  I guess that just pissed him off again. He reached down and grabbed my underwear from both sides again, lifting me up off the floor. I kicked my legs and flailed my arms, hoping against hope that he'd let me go. All it did was make the wedgie cut deeper.
  "You can't be her defender all the time, Daniel. I tried that with your mother, and all it ever brought me was pain and humiliation."
  "B-but I'm not YOU!"
  He sighed. "You're not listening to me."
  Before I could protest any more, he carried me over to my wide open closet door and hooked my waistband over the coat rack.
  "I'll be back in a bit."
  He then walked out, leaving me to dangle in the air. I kicked and squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position and getting nowhere. Then again, it's impossible to be comfortable when you're being held in mid-air by your underwear, the front is hugging your midriff, and the back is almost at the top of your head. Eventually, I just slumped over, staring at my feet in shame as I continued to sink further into the wedgie. Why does it ALWAYS have to be a wedgie? Eventually, I looked up at my clock to see that fifteen minutes had passed. Fifteen minutes, and the back was well above my head, the waistband hugging my armpits. I couldn't feel my legs anymore, and the floor was still a long way off. As I slumped back down, I heard the front door open. I immediately looked to my bedroom door, praying it was Mom so she could get me down. But that hope immediately disappeared when I heard HER voice.
  "Sooooooo...where is he?"
  Oh, crap! Not Claire! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, not her! ANYONE but her! Why is she here?! Did Dad bring her over?! To humiliate me more, I bet.
  "His room's right upstairs. Here..."
  Panic set in. My heart was racing, and my fingers fumbled with the metal hook that just refused to give in to my weight. I tried to push against the wall to close the door. That got me nowhere because of the old binder I use for a door stop. The chair at my desk was too far out of reach, and so was my desk. I was completely trapped with no way out. And Dad knew it.
  "Right in here," my dad stated.
  A second later, she appeared.
  "Hey, Daniel? You father asked me to come over and...ooooooh, wow..."
  God, why is she so beautiful? Tall, athletic, dark hair, tanned skin, and the most piercing hazel eyes. Her cheek was still bruised from where that jerk smacked her. When she saw me, she had this weird look, like she didn't know whether to laugh or feel bad or me. I could feel my face turn red. Redder than red.
  "S-so, er..." I could tell she didn't quite know how to say it. "Your dad, uh...gives you wedgies?"
  I looked away, too embarrassed to respond.
  "Don't be embarrassed. I have four older brothers, and they do that to each other...and to me...all the time."
  I looked at her, completely surprised. It's not every day you hear a cheerleader admit to being no stranger to wedgies. I didn't know what to say.
  "Look...thank you...for coming to my defense, Daniel."
  "Is your cheek okay?" is all I could get out.
  "Y-yeah, it's fine. I just put some ice on it. It looks like you're a lot worse off than me, though," she said with a grin.
  "I'm used to it," I muttered.
  Awkward pause.
  "Daniel, I...I just came over to tell you that...I don't wanna see you get hurt."
  "Claire, what that guy called you, what he did to you..."
  "I know, and I get it. But I don't need you getting yourself hurt on my behalf."
  "B-But, Claire..."
  "I can take care of myself, Daniel. Trust me."
  She was every bit as stubborn as me. Gotta admire that. But it doesn't mean I didn't wanna be there when somebody hurt her. I sighed.
  "Sorry...I just...I don't like seeing the people I love get hurt."
  She gave me a questioning look.
  "Love?"
  Oh, crap! Did I REALLY just say that out loud?
  "Y-yeah," I replied, nervously, "...people I care about. Friends, family. You know. Love, hehe..."
  No, you idiot! You couldn't possibly make this any more obvious!
  "Okay...if you want me to, I'll ease up. But if you ever need a friend..."
  She started blushing. Looking back on it, she probably knew what I was getting at.
  "Thank you."
  With that, she gave me a hug--which kinda pulled me down further, though I didn't mind as much--and a kiss on the cheek. I felt the spot where she kissed me as I watched her leave. It was warm. A few minutes later, my dad walked back in with this smirk on his face.
  "Real smooth, son," he said.
  I looked away. I didn't wanna talk to him right now.
  "I mean...love..."
  When he said that, I started to fully grasp what I just said.
  "Dad, you don't...you don't think she...caught on...to what I was trying to say, do you?"
  He just shook his head.
  "You're a talented boy, Daniel, but you're terrible at hiding things from people."
  That sentence alone sent my heart into the pit of my stomach. She knows!
  "Hey, at least she's familiar with your position."
  "Sh-shut up. Don't try to pretend you didn't act this same way around Mom when you were my age."
  He shrugged. "Yeah, I did. But at least I wasn't hanging by my briefs when I told her I loved her."
  With that, he turned to leave the room, switching the light off and shutting the door in the process.
  "Good night, Daniel. I'm sure your mother can get you down."
  "What?! You're not seriously gonna leave me here like this?!"
  But he did. No matter how loud I screamed and how much I pleaded. Eventually, I just gave up and tried to go to sleep. It was just after midnight when I heard the front door open. After about a minute, I heard a set of footsteps coming up the stairs. They stopped at my door, which opened. The light came on. It was my mom, extremely tired.
  "Daniel? Honey? Your father asked me to talk to...oh, my God..."
  I was groggy, delirious.
  "Ma-moooooom?" I moaned.
  Mom rolled her eyes and groaned, "Adaaaaaaam...!"
  She immediately softened her tone.
  "Lemme get you down from there."
  She came over and got me off the coat rack.
  "I can't feel my legs..."
  "The feeling will come back after a good night's sleep," she replied as I slumped over her shoulder.
  "I just wanted to protect Claire. That's all I wanted to do..."
  "You can tell me everything in the morning."
  She lay me face-down on the bed, then removed my jeans. She then slowly, carefully pulled my underwear from my buttcrack. I cried in pain as it was finally, mercifully dislodged.
  As she wadded up the remains of my underwear, she asked, "Do you wanna sleep in a fresh pair or you just want a pair of sweatpants?"
  "Sweatpants..."
  I fell asleep after she slipped them on. The next morning, she came to my room, and I told her everything. When I told her I just wanted to be there for Claire, she simply smiled.
  "Your father was like that around me when we were your age, too."