Pants, Pull, Laugh, Repeat

It doesn't matter where we are- Your waistband is owned. I would have picked your outfit for the day, your socks, shoes, shirt, and pants- just so I can always know how easy or intricate it is to humiliate you. Even if we're walking through the park at night, or on an elevator up to the 14th floor for our hotel room, Your body would just be a weak, adorable little toy to bully, use, humiliate, and dominate. Some days I'd have you wear a belt so when I push your body against the wall and grip your waistband, after I've pulled it up to your shoulders or even over your head, I won't let you undo the belt and buttons so easily so it's harder for you to dig inside them and adjust your wedgied underwear. When you come home from the gym and your Grey joggers are looking so worn and worked, they'll be easier to yank down the moment you walk through the door. Your pants pulled, exposing your already throbbing bulge waiting to be gripped and held while I stand up on my tippy toes to whisper kinky things in your ear and have my other hand gripping your jaw so you can't pull away at how horny the words make you. Then once I'm done jiggling your wet bulge around, making you hot and melting into my hands wrapped around your stiff bulge, I will grip the front of the waistband and watch it all bounce repeatedly from the melvin wedgie as your package starts to fall out the sides from the underwear being shifted around. I'll lift them high enough so I can tease your nipples, holding the wedgies underwear up so I can rub the fabric across your nipples inbetween twsiting and pushing them. But maybe that isn't enough, so I'll turn you around and push your body into the door, using one hand to reach through your thighs so I can grip your hanging bulge and pull it back, making you arch out and up so your ass is perfectly aligned to display that waistband just begging to be pulled. And I will, I'll grip the underwear and lift it up, lift it up high to your shoulders turning your briefs into a thong that wedgies your cheeks and splits them apart. I'll bounce you, make your already aching legs from the workout double in discomfort from the wedgie slipping in and out of your body. But it isn't enough, so I'll reach down, pull your joggers back up, then walk you outside with my hand still lifting and gripping your waistband in a tightly pulled wedgie and lead you to the car so you can take us to our favorite spot to hang you by your underwear. A hanging wedgie is needed, earned, and no, your sweats will not stay on. And yes, if you cum, you will hang for 20 minutes longer while my tongue teases that wet bulge even more.