I Was Stripped, Spanked & Sexually Humiliated
Libby MarrThree high school teenagers videotaped my degradation, even so far as ordering me to suck their dicks, as they intended to show all my classmates the tape and label me 'the school slut'

by Libby Marr

Having been the victim of sexual harassment in the past myself, I unfortunately can only too clearly understand what Louise Ogborn must have been going through that horrible evening at McDonald's. I also doubt very much that I would have handled the aftermath of such a sexual assault that she went through with as much courage and dignity as Louise has shown.

In the fall of 2003, several despicable jerks at my high school were able to secretly take with hidden cameras totally nude photos of myself and my two closest girlfriends as we showered at school after a Saturday morning workout. The embarrassment and humiliation was pretty intense, dozens of male classmates seeing our photos. Our nude photos were also posted on porn sites on the internet. Total frontal nudity!

Rather than go through the humiliation of bringing it to school officials who had turned a blind eye to previous sexual harassment, including a rape, we decided we'd handle it ourselves. We were 18-years old so we had rights! In an attempt to save my girlfriends from continued humiliation, I first agreed to publicly answer on the internet a series of humiliating and degrading questions (that were, to my embarrassment, eventually read by many of my classmates), dealing with when and how I lost my virginity, how many times I've had sex, in what positions, questions dealing with self-stimulation and so on.

Although it bought us time for what we planned, truthfully answering that series of sexually humiliating questions didn't result in any change in their behavior and only earned me quite a lot of scorn online, mostly in the form of me being called a certain four-letter word that starts with the letter 's.'

I then agreed to meet the perpetrators in a very seldom used community center building at a park near our school early in the morning of November 11, 2003. As instructed, I arrived at the building wearing nothing more than a pair of panties and a bra, having left my remaining clothes in my car, which was parked across a grass field.

My three harassers, who turned out to be exactly who we thought they would be, were there waiting for me, taking more pictures. I was leered at and quickly fondled, all over my body. One of them reached around me and slipped his hands inside the front of my bra telling his friends, "They feel real.'' Then he squeezed my breasts, laughing as he said, "Hey, Libby. Got milk?"

He then walked behind me, pulling my panties half-way down in the back and then quickly gave me a painful and humiliating bare-bottom spanking as his friends laughed at my exposure and embarrassment. He then reached down and pinched the lower area of my buttocks, then shoved me over to his two friends who then took their own turns spanking my exposed butt. They laughed and took turns photographing each other spanking me and I pulled my panties back up while they looked at the photos on their digital cameras. But once inside the building, my panties were then ripped fully in the back and on one side, nearly torn off and began to slowly slide down.

My bra was next, only it was ripped off of me completely, leaving me topless and exposed to my tormentors. My ripped panties did now not even completely cover my pubes and most of my bare bottom was exposed. In reality, I might as well been naked. My principal harasser, a senior named Juan Ramos, then reached into the front of my panties, lowering them nearly completely down off my pubic area. He then grasped my pubic hair in his fingers and yanked on them, telling me that my red pubes were going to be shaved off by them and that detailed before and after pics of me with my legs spread wide open would be taken for a ''proper showing'' for everyone in my high school and on the Internet of what I look like down there.

I glanced slightly to my left and, on the floor along side the wall, I saw that these jerks had brought with them scissors, razors and (gasp!) a dog collar and leash. I found out later that Juan had been soliciting advice on a web bulletin board on how to humiliate me and one jerk suggested that I be showcased totally naked, led around on all fours with a dog collar around my neck, culminating in being forced to lift one of my legs and pee - with photos and a video provided to my classmates for the ultimate in degradation and humiliation.

Juan then pushed me down onto my knees in front of him and unzipped his pants. His accomplices readied their digital cameras to capture the moment, one they hoped would humiliate me to no end. Juan then pulled out his unimpressive erect penis as I turned away. But he grabbed my head and twisted it back around to face him. He then thrust his penis inches from my face and ordered me to, ''Suck it.''

Had I stuck out my tongue at that moment, I surely would have touched it. I've never given any guy a blowjob (not even my boyfriend), but I realized that I was only moments away from having Juan's dick thrust forcefully put into my mouth. No doubt it was to be followed in turn by two more dicks. Fortunately, my friends and I had other plans for that morning.

Earlier, long before the jerks arrived, my girlfriends hid a cell phone in the room. Within seconds of Juan's command to ''Suck it,'' my best and dearest friend, Becky Romero, and my teammates on my high school's softball team burst into the room, every one of them with a baseball bat in their hand. The tables were turned - and mighty quickly!

Mind you, all of this was also being captured on video tape. After quickly putting on some clothes that my friends handed me, we offered the guys a chance to leave. They started to, but after reflecting that they might soon have attempted rape charges filed against them, they voluntarily stayed put.

They actually started taking off their clothes without even being asked. What a bunch of wusses! It was so nice that we were able to donate three sets of young adult male clothing - underwear, included - to a needy Chicago charity!

When my teammate, Lori Sanchez, asked me, ''Hey, Libby. How's your pitching arm today?'' I replied, ''As good as ever'' and I briefly joined her and another teammate and super close friend, Belinda Ramirez, outside on a baseball diamond. I just love the sound of a digital camera hit by a baseball bat early in the morning! (Belinda, whose nude pics as well as Becky's were also taken by Juan, would have preferred hitting three sets of little balls into Lake Michigan with her bat, but that's another story)

But despite the immediate relief of ending our humiliating blackmail, reality soon beckoned and I, along with Becky and Belinda, still had to deal with the fact that dozens of male students had received copies of our nude photos and countless of sick perverts saw them on dozens of porn sites where Juan uploaded them.

However, when compared to what happened to Louise Ogborn, I have to consider myself lucky. Many things might have gone wrong for me on that morning. What if those creeps had quickly grabbed me, put me in a car and whisked me away to another location before my girlfriends knew what was happening or could react? What if they had discovered the cell phone? What if this? What if that?

I know full well how most of those ''what ifs'' could have ended for me: surely it would have at least included being stripped completely naked and totally degraded on videotape - forced to perform multiple acts of fellatio, having my pubes shaved, given a very sore red bare bottom - all for every male classmate in my high school to eventually view on videotape and the net. I also realize my sexual degradation might have even been worse. I was lucky.

More about me...
  • Humiliated in high school by 'Dr. Spank'

  • Stripped, spanked & videotaped

  • My huge uniform malfunction on the pitching mound

  • Pitching in my panties

  • Caught nude by a group of Boy Scouts

  • Bathing my girlfriend's teenage brother

  • Spanked at my 20th birthday party - panties down!

  • So I don't shave my pubes! What the f---!

  • Shown pitching completely naked - on a baseball card!

    (Me on a baseball card created by Bad Girl Spanker, in one of his efforts to humiliate me. Trust me, he unequivocally succeeded.)

    Summer Camp: Softballs, Baseballs and Boyballs
    Coaching young boys can be fun... until some of them decide they'll undermine whatever authority you had over them by walking in on you while you're totally naked and showering

    by Libby Marr

    Some of you guys out there need to get a grip - beyond the one you have on something down inside the front of your pants.

    Yes it's true that Belinda and I saw undressed and naked boys while we were coaching interns at a baseball camp a few years back, just like Becky said. But it was no big deal to us. I mean, to put it one way, when you've seen one little wiener, you've seen them all.

    The camp only had one locker room and shower area (it was being remodeled at the time). The dorms were in separate areas, with communal bathrooms only. And there was about 4 times the amount of boys as girls in the camp. The boys were split into two groups. One group practiced in a larger group which include all the girls. Belinda and I were the coaching instructors of this group of both boys and girls. Two male coaches handled the other group (of all boys).

    To be fair to everyone, we took turns on which sex showered and changed first after daily practice. The boys hated it when we went first, always complaining about the smell of our shampoo, body lotions and nail polish. But when the boys went first they dilly-dallied far worse and it was immediately clear they needed, shall we say, motivation to hurry up. But it wasn't like you guys think it was. The boys were warned ahead of time before practice two days later that they'd better be done within an allotted time frame or the girls would be allowed to go on in and hurry them up, so to speak.

    One day after practice, when many boys still weren't showered, dressed and exiting the locker room promptly, we first sent another boy who had come out (dressed) back in with a five-minute warning. When that time passed (with most of the boys then finished, dressed and out), Belinda poked her head in and yelled, ''One more minute, then it's SHOW-TIME, fellas!'' That at least got a few more of the slow-pokes to hurry up.

    It was only after several more minutes passed that we gave up and Belinda and I walked on in, announcing that we told the girls to wait one more minute outside in the hall before coming in. Belinda and I then walked through the locker room where several boys were either in their underwear or nearly dressed, around the corner, past the urinals and toilet stalls and into our offices, warning several boys we passed who were still procrastinating in the showers that the girls would be entering the locker room in about 30 seconds and that they might want to cover up. When they immediately went running past us from the showers, we could hear from the girls' giggles around the corner that they hadn't reached their towels in time.

    The 15 or so girls in the camp had been more than patient. So the few boys who were embarrassed that day had only themselves to blame. And, actually, we had far more consideration for the boys' privacy than did the all-male coaches who ran the camp in prior years.

    As Becky mentioned, the coaching staff offices were nearly right next to the shower area. The urinals were across the room and slightly to the left, along with the toilet stalls (with just chest-high privacy screens around the toilets). A glass door from the office led out into this huge room. The showers were to the right, (basically just nozzles on pipes that ran under the ceiling). Two fairly large glass windows also looked out into that room. The locker room area was to the left of the urinals and around a corner. The other side of the coaching staff offices had another glass door and one window. Actually, anyone standing in the hallway could watch and look straight thru the office as naked athletes walked past the interior glass door and windows. On the first day of camp we could see the girls naturally felt embarrassed about this situation, as did some of the more shy boys.

    But contrary to what Scorpiono accused us of doing... [setting up shop so we could ''sit down and watch every naked boy on the way to and from the showers''] ... we actually helped provide more modesty and privacy for the boys than they ever expected.

    The night of the first day in camp, Belinda and I went out and bought blinds with our own money and installed them the next day on the interior windows and doors of the coaching offices, so that both girls and boys could have some privacy both from the coaching staff and any visitors who happened to stop by.

    We understood that one of the boys' mothers that first day got quite an eyeful of her son's camp-mates. (the male coaching interns were the blame for that, allowing her to sit in their office and visit while dozens of naked boys were walking back and forth only a few feet from the glass door and windows which she sat next to. (It was after one quite embarrassed boy told Belinda about this that first afternoon that caused us to go buy the blinds. One of the girls (who was around 13) told everyone of a similar incident when her then 14-year old older brother was in camp a few years earlier; she and her mom were visiting with one of the male coaches in the office about the possibility of her coming to camp the following year and accidentally left through the wrong door, running smack into about six stark naked teenage boys (including her very shocked and soon very blushing brother) who were on their way to the showers).

    I hope you can see that we showed total fairness, unlike two of the male coaching interns (two college age studs who are now playing minor league ball) who pranked us by taking the batteries out of the clock in the locker room, making us think we had more time than we did one day later in that first week when it was the girls turn to shower and change clothes first.

    As Belinda and I were showering (we always waited for the girls attending camp to finish their showers first; the male coaches did the same with the boys), the last three girls came running back into the showers with only their towels around then, screaming that the boys were coming in. The two male coaching interns walked in first and Belinda and I yelled from around the corner at them to get out. They didn't and instead pointed up to the clock and said it was behind -- and that we had ''10 seconds to cover up.'' They then immediately left and sent the two dozens or so boys from our group on in right away. With all of our clothes and towels in the locker room area on the benches next to our lockers, Belinda and I knew we had to protect the modesty and dignity of the three teenage girls clad only in towels, instantly realizing that we would have to certainly sacrifice our own modesty and dignity in the process. Now that was a situation that we were put in by trickery that was totally uncalled for!

    Of course, there were also the times when we had to immediately go into the boys locker room and shower areas, regardless of whether boys were undressed or not, to either break up a fight or when, for example, one 14-year old boy slipped, fell and hit his head against the shower area wall. Of course, the other boys showering were embarrassed, as was the one who sheepishly opened our office door and walked in while still naked and dripping wet, to tell us his friend was hurt and unconscious. I immediately ran in the shower area to check on the boy while Belinda dialed 9-1-1. I can assure you, I wasn't at all interested in looking at all the young naked males in there, but was instead worried about the condition of the injured boy. I can also assure you that all of the boys understood that the safety and well-being of their camp-mate was of more importance than their modesty in those situations as well.

    Libby Marr, caught naked in the shower

    I am 5'9'', weight a slim 120 lbs. dripping wet, have red hair (yes, down there, too) and blue eyes.

    My bust measures out at 32'' and I have modestly-sized, firm breasts. (Despite false rumors to the contrary, I do wear a B-cup bra if you must know. Honest!).

    My hometown is Chicago, Illinois. I was born in October 1985, graduated high school in 2004 and went to college in the Midwest. After graduating, I went to grad school (sports management).

    And, yes, if it would truly mean opening the door for women to play professional baseball, I'd take to the mound in my panties.

    Yes, I mean that in all 100% seriousness. If I was told a nationwide women's pro league had being formed under the condition that I participate but that my "official" uniform for the entire season (which I must play in all year) and appear in at all team events (such as autograph signings, media interviews, photo ops, etc.) was to consist of nothing but my bra, panties, socks, cleats and visor, I would comply despite the embarrassment. Even when it meant pitching in the rain.