ojovivo
macklin celebrini has autism
No title available
bliss lane
Show & Tell
shark vs the universe
Monterey Bay Aquarium
YOU ARE THE REASON
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Cosimo Galluzzi
occasionally subtle
sheepfilms
Product Placement
blake kathryn
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
Discoholic 🪩
Jimmy Eat World
The Bowery Presents
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
ellievsbear
seen from Colombia
seen from North Macedonia
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from United States
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@enmstorytime
When these lads volunteered to promote their naked rugby calendar on a talk show, they definitely weren't expecting the hosts to coerce them to doing a strip show. Despite being put on the spot, they still give it their all, undies included. In hindsight, they probably shouldn't have thrown their uniforms to the audience. After their segment, they would be left backstage awkwardly holding a ball to their junk
He was pretty excited to shoot for his first major commercial. It was for a laundry machine that claims to get your washing done in half the time. The scene starts with him getting dirt all over his fancy suit right before his big date. He then rushes over to a busy laundromat, gets completely undressed, and pops his suit into the hi-tech laundry machine for a quick emergency wash. While waiting, he shows off its new features to all the ladies ogling him with a few conveniently placed objects obscuring his naughty bits from view. In no time, his wash finishes and he makes it to his date right on the dot with a freshly cleaned and pressed outfit.
He was going to be naked in most of the commercial which is why casting chose a stud like him. He volunteered to go all the way on all his nude scenes, no briefs, no pouch, no anything for cover. He reveled in all the attention even after the shooting wrapped up. But unlike the commercial, he wasn't getting out of there with his clothes. He had apparently hanged his clothes with all the other costumes which the crew had already packed away. Being the only one left on set, he had a bright idea to run to the laundromat a few blocks away to ask for some clothes. Unfortunately, all that came from his little trip were humiliating videos of him pleading with strangers for spare clothes with his ass in plain view.
Funnily enough, being the viral naked laundry guy only added to the popularity of his commercial. The next months, he would shoot spin-off ads, billboards, and other promotions for a laundry machine without wearing a stitch of clothing.
This is the real revolution: We reclaim our bodies.
We have been taught that the only bodies we should see naked are the ones meant to be consumed and paid for in porn (and we know I'm not anti-porn). We have been sold a myth that bodies are indecent. We have been sold fast fashion, and shame so we can keep putting money in the hands of other people who will continue to sell us nothing but our shame.
We must reclaim our bodies. We must reclaim our right to exist in our own skin and nothing else.
It is a difficult road, like every revolution. There will be the people who laugh. The people who point out the "flaws." There will be systems we have to change.
But on the other side is a world where our shame is abandoned, and where we get to own our bodies in all their beauty, glory, and power.
"Since that's not exactly the most sanitary way to make a pie for the bake sale, we're going to have to think of another way to contribute," Chris's husband said, when he came home from work to see Chris stark naked in the kitchen singing along to the Waitress soundtrack.
And that's how Chris found himself at the front of the banquet hall as the subject of a bidding war. As his husband auctioned off Chris's fanciest suit, which he was currently wearing for the last time, Chris knew this was going to be the highest grossing bake sale the charity had ever experienced.
As he stripped on stage, Christ knew that his husband was going to make Chris's body their annual contribution.
The guests at the beach wedding were shocked when the best man arrived at the reception dripping wet with only a dress shirt tied around his waist. He and the other groomsmen had apparently gone skinny-dipping at the beach after the ceremony. The best man was a bit too competitive while swimming so the other groomsmen decided to hide his clothes as payback. Throughout the reception, the groom couldn't stop laughing while watching his buddy barely cover his junk under an almost translucent shirt. And right when the best man got up for a speech, another groomsman pulled on the shirt finally exposing his cock in front of all the guests. He tried to hide his nakedness but the groom pulled him up the stage and made sure everyone got to see his best man and his best assets.
You didn't read the fine print on your contract to appear and compete on the new Who Wants to be a Millionaire? revival.
Your run in the hot seat started strong. You got twelve of the fifteen questions right, and you'd only used one of your lifelines (Ask the Audience).
But question thirteen stumped you. You made a guess, and the host, one of those muscly Avengers actors in a form fitting suit, oohed sympathetically.
"Not correct," the Avengers actor said, grinning wide. "That means you have to take one article of your clothing."
"Wait, what?" you asked.
All the Avengers actor did in response was point at your seat, where a small hook attached to a large spool of thread had attached your suit coat. You watched in horror as you realized that the hook was unspooling your suit jacket. Within seconds, the buttons on your suit jacket thudded to the ground, your jacket completely unwoven and gone.
"What the hell man?" you asked trying to stand.
"You either leave a millionaire or you leave butt naked," the Avengers actor said, a meaty hand on your chest holding you in your seat. "It's how we're making sure our reboot gets views. Now make your second guess."
"My second guess?" you asked.
"You get to answer each question as many times as it takes to get it right," the Avengers actor said. "But you gotta be careful."
"I'd like to opt out now," you said.
"No can do, my man." The Avengers actor said. "Second guess. Go!"
You made a second guess. The host beamed, the chair's hook latched onto your tie. The audience cheered as your tie was reduced to a new spool of thread.
"Bad luck, my man," the Avengers actor said. "Now you've got a fifty-fifty shot."
"I'd like to use my fifty-fifty, lifeline," you said, knowing that even now you couldn't make an educated guess between your last two options.
"Are you sure?" the host asked.
"Absolutely," you said.
"Alrighty then," the host said, beaming to the audience. "As we all know, if a contestant uses a lifeline to come back from a wrong answer, there are costs. Carol, tell us the costs to the lifelines in circumstances like this."
"You got it," Carol, the Avenger's beautiful assistant said. "When a contestant uses a lifeline to recover from a missed answer here are the costs: Because a fifty-fifty lifeline guarantees the contestant gets the right answer, it costs fifty percent of the contestant's remaining clothing. For poll the audience, the contestant is required to give every audience member an article of their clothing, and don't you worry, our crew has collected everything from your closet back home. For phone a friend, both you and the friend you call will be stripped completely naked for your full-body video call. The contestant will get whatever clothing they have left back after their phone call."
"Thanks Carol," the Avengers actor said. "Fifty-fifty. Let's go."
"Wait!" You shouted, but too late. The chair latched a hook into both of your socks, and your shirt. As you heard the plink, plink, plink of your shirts buttons against the soundstage floor, you felt a clamp grab and pull your left shoe off your foot.
In seconds, you sat bare chested, with one barefoot in front of the audience. At least you got the right answer, and you could move onto question fourteen.
Question fourteen was another stumper. You guessed wrong, and felt the clamp grab and pull off your second shoe.
"It's getting really exciting now, isn't it?" The Avengers actor asked the audience who yelled obscenities that made you blush.
You did the math. If you guessed wrong. You'd still have your underwear. But you had one more question after this. Question fifteen. The hardest question.
If you polled the audience, you weren't sure that you had enough clothing to go around.
"I'd like to phone a friend," you said, already knowing it would be hella awkward.
"Alrighty, if you'll just remove your pants and underwear and leave them there on that chair," the Avengers actor said, "we've got our agents confirming that your friend is ready on the other end of the line."
Carol, pulled down a screen from the ceiling big enough for the audience, to see every detail of the friend you were about to call. They whooped as you stood, and hastily shucked yourself of the rest of your clothing, praying this would be a fast phone call.
Your dad answered on the first ring. His naked body large enough that his cock was directly at your eye level. You turned bright red from your cheeks to your toes as you looked at your father's naked body, and knew that he was seeing your naked body for the first time since you'd become a man.
The Avengers actor stalled, reading the question to your dad slowly, while you and your dad stood in front of cameras recording all of your naked glory.
"Don't worry guys," the Avengers actor said, grinning at you. "We've got censor bars over the goods. We are still on American television afterall."
You breathed a sigh of relief, as the actor read the question one more time to your dad. Your dad told you the right answer, and then, thankfully, his naked body disappeared and Carol was putting the screen away.
"Alrighty then, get those pants and briefs, sorry for the spoiler ladies and gentlemen, back on that ass of yours and let's keep playing."
You dressed quickly and settled back into your seat. You gave the answer your dad suggested, trying to stop yourself from picturing his dick and low hanging balls.
"That's correct!" the actor shouted! "Final question."
The final question was impossible. You knew you got it wrong the moment you opened your mouth for you first answer. You watched as your pants dissolved into thread, revealing ankle, then calf, then thigh, then the black of your briefs. Your belt, zipper, and button thudded to the sound stage around you. And you sat in just your underwear, your cock outlined perfectly for the audience to gawk at.
"Great pair of legs, if you ask me," the host said to appreciative laughter.
Your heart pounded as you took your second guess.
The audience fell silent. The host wore a straight face.
You waited.
And waited.
And then, the host cracked a grin as the hook lodged itself into the waistband of your briefs.
"Bad luck!" He shouted over the cheering of the audience.
In seconds your underwear was nothing more than the smallest ball of thread on the chairs armrest, and you could feel the cold of the seat against your ass and testicles.
Your dick started to harden as your face flushed at this exposure that wasn't reversible. You knew you'd have to stand and shake hands with the Avengers actor, all while your dick swung in front of the hundred or so audience members watching.
"It's not over yet though, mate," The actor said with his biggest grin. "You've got two options, one lifeline, and one camera privacy censor that we can still turn off so all of America gets to see you completely exposed."
"No way," you said shaking your head.
"Yes way," the actor said beaming.
With the economy what it was and the nostalgia gripping the nation, you knew most of America really would be watching. If the censor disappeared, everyone in the nation would know what every inch of your body looked like.
You knew it was stupid. But once you got the million dollar question right, clothes were replaceable. Your dignity was not.
"I'd like to use my final lifeline," you said, gritting your teeth.
"It looks like everyone here is leaving with a souvenir" The actor shouted, as ushers began filing through the rows, handing out your clothing.
Even if you had anything left, which you seriously doubted, there was no way they'd leave you anything but your socks.
You sat for twenty minutes watching your clothing get handed out, while the Avenger's actor grinned at you, and your dick, which had become fully erect from the attention pulsed.
"Alright, those poll answers have come in, now," the actor said, showing you the graph that showed an 80/20 split between the answers. "And for the viewers at home who are curious, it looks like our contestant didn't lose all his clothes today. He'll be returning with one dress sock!"
The audience laughed the loudest you'd heard yet. Which should have given you an idea about their levels of trustworthiness. But it didn't. You gave the host the audience's preferred answer, which in hindsight you realized was absolutely a trap.
"Editors, unblur this man's penis!" the actor shouted.
And even though you knew you were already naked. Even though nothing physically changed. It was enough. The thrill. The shame. The attention. The whooping audience. The hotness of the host in his skin tight suit. The fact that you'd be returning home with a single dress sock. The memory of your dad standing in front of you completely naked. It all caught up to you, and you came.
You moaned as the thick white exploded from the tip of your cock, and launched across splattering across the Avenger's actor's tight chest.
You gasped, as the last waves dribbled down your length, and as you heard the audience screaming, out of control.
"It looks like we have our premier episode!" The Actor said, looking down at the cum on his tight shirt. "And it looks like you don't have to worry about going home without much clothing to your name! Everyone you know will already have seen you naked by the time you get home!"
"I told you we needed a kitchen towel rack weeks ago. Well, it's too late now that we've got guests over. It's not ideal but I guess your cock should suffice. And let this be a reminder that I always get what I want, boy."
The one thing he remembered from survival training is to always have a spare set of dry clothes when swimming in freezing water to prevent hypothermia. When you only have one set of clothes, then it was preferred to skinny-dip for survival than to sit in your freezing wet clothes.
After completing his orders to survey the island for any resources, he had to take his little dinghy back to their main ship. It was just a short trip but as a precaution he still followed his survival training and got completely naked before getting in the water. Everything was going smoothly while he pushed the boat out of the shore. It was only when he pulled himself back on that rocked the boat and knocked his uniform off the side into the ocean. All he could do was watch from the dinghy as his sole uniform sunk deeper and deeper into the unknown. Defeated, he started the motor, the icy wind nipping his bare skin as he made his way back to the ship.
The crew that brought him back onboard couldn't help but laugh when they saw him ass naked and shivering with his cock shriveled from the cold. The captain was waiting for him when he arrived so he immediately gave his report holding his cock with one hand and trying to warm himself with the other.
The captain made him stand at attention before giving him a complete look down. "Young man, I think you forgot to salute before speaking to an officer. And that's just one of the many things you seem to have forgotten," the captain gestures to his shrunken dick to the amusement of the crew watching. "Typically I give a demerit of fifty push-ups for this kind of offence, but I think a lap around the ship should suffice."
"Sir, can I at least get dressed first, sir."
"For not asking permission to ask another question, I think I'll add another lap to that. After your little parade, you can meet me in my office to give your formal report. I think the other officers would love to hear what you have to say about your survey." The captain gave him a quick tap on the ass before he started his jog while still in the nude.
He couldn’t believe it. His first day in the Parish and here he was stripped naked and embarrassed while his Superiors decided his fate!!
He had decided to go out and meet his parishioners on the street. Talk about the Word and see if he could get any new donations for the Church.
Unfortunately he had run into a group of college kids who had somehow talked him right out of his frock!?! Something about charity, donating clothes, and the good of the community. Feeding the hungry, clothing the naked. That sort of thing.
But the next thing he knew he was completely naked out on the street! His rosary and bits dangling in the wind! For all the world to see!
And the worst part was the gathered crowd that had followed his delicious blushing body back to the Church had caught the attention of his Superiors. They sat him down still naked and told him to wait outside their Office while they discussed this turn of events.
Soon, “The Naked Pastor” was known all over the city and the poor guy had to give a sermon every Sunday in the buff!
But attendance was higher than ever and he certainly got the donations for the Church!
Osh had felt fantastic as the festival crowd lifted him up and he had his first experience of crowd surfing. But then the hands had started grabbing his arse through his shorts and feeling inside his shirt. Then his shirt had slipped over his head and his shorts had easily been slipped down his long smooth legs along with his trainers and socks. Now he frantically tried to keep hold of his tight briefs as, still held high, they were pulled from him just as he saw himself appear on the big screens…
He had just gotten out of the shower when the yearbook committee photographers came into the locker room to take some team photos. He thought it'd be fun to take a sexy photo, so he quickly threw on a pair of compression shorts and grabbed some loose pads and posed for his photo. It wasn't until the yearbook came out that he realized since he didn't dry off, there was so much water on him that it's soaked right through the compression shorts and showed off everything he was trying to hide.
Rob should've known that this was the kind of extra credit he'd be doing to save him from flunking his human anatomy class.
Carson has already lost the headlight game. Sitting in the backseat had been a massive disadvantage since the driver and the passenger had a clear line of sight to catch any burned out headlights and punch the ceiling of the car before Carson. Carson had been naked within the first hour of their road trip, his clothes piled up next to him, his friends grinning at him as he covered his hands with his crotch.
Then they'd started making him toss out one article of clothing from the window each time they caught a burned headlight. He ran out of the clothes piled next to him, and had to start ditching the clothes in his duffle bag.
When his duffle bag was empty and he didn't have any clothes left him for the rest of their road trip each burned out headlight Carson's friends saw required Carson to do one outside the car dare, which is how Carson ended up fueling his friends car in his birthday suit, with no clothes of his own within over a hundred miles.
When Dave's family set up for the yard sale that Sunday morning, Dave had no idea that by the end of the day his wife and son were going to sell every last stitch of clothing that he owned.
The morning started innocent enough, with neighbors pawing through the family's possessions, making offers on unneeded furniture, old decorations, and old clothes. The profits weren't bad as the day wore on, which Dave was grateful for. He'd recently lost his job, and his wife's job was barely covering the mortgage and groceries. But the family car was on it's last leg, and they needed the money to make sure that Dave's wife would still be able to get to work.
"Dave, you've always had great fashion," Paul, one of Dave's neighbors said around noon. "I've been looking through your clothes, but there's only a few things my size. It looks like the rest of your family is making sacrifices, but you aren't"
"If you'd been here earlier, you'd have seen how many sacrifices I made," Dave said, rubbing the back of his neck. "My stuff sold pretty fast."
It had been hard for Dave to clean out his closet this week in preparation for the yard sale. He'd brought about half of all the clothes he owned down, and each time he made another sale, he could remember the circumstances of where he bought every single piece of clothing. He was glad that so much had sold, but he was also devastated to know that tomorrow morning, he'd be waking up to a much emptier closet.
"I was really hoping I'd get to update my fashion today," Paul said, and then he leaned in conspiratorially. "Especially in the underwear department. I wanna spice up the bedroom."
"There are sites for that," Dave said, "I'm not selling any of my underwear today."
"You might not be," Dave's wife said, sweeping past them, "But for the right price, I'm willing to make a sale."
"Honey," Dave said, his face flushing at the thought of Paul seeing his underwear."
"Dave," his wife said in a tone that said the conversation was over.
And with that, Dave's wife led Paul into the house to show him Dave's underwear collection. Dave watched them leave, feeling his stomach churn with humiliation. Not only was Paul going to see his underwear (Dave was a briefs, jocks, and thongs man), but his wife might sell some of Dave's favorite underwear.
Paul and Dave's wife spent a lot of time upstairs, and Dave had to keep managing the bustling yard sale, haggling with neighbors and strangers, watching as old CDs and movies left, and watching as the last articles of the clothing he'd brought from his own closet that morning got sold off.
When Paul and Dave's wife emerged from the house, Paul had a grocery bag full of multi-colored fabric, and Dave's wife had an armful more of Dave's clothes from his closet.
"How much did you sell?" Dave asked his wife.
"You had such an excellent collection," Paul said, grinning widely, his eyes lingering on Dave's crotch, like he was imagining what Dave was wearing under his cargo shorts. "I had to buy up as much as possible."
"And how much was that?" Dave asked again.
"Relax, Dave," his wife said, without answering the question.
Dave's stomach sank. Based on how full the bag was, he'd be lucky if he had a week's worth of underwear left. But, he reminded himself, if Paul had paid well for the underwear, Dave could handle spending a few days a week going commando if it meant they were able to get their new car.
"I can't believe how much you left upstairs," Dave's wife said, walking to the clothes section and setting out her armload of clothing. Dave noticed it was all his.
"Honey, we've already sold a lot of my stuff," Dave said.
"And you still have so much," Dave's wife said,
"And your stuff sells so well," their college-aged son said, looking up from his phone for a second to join the conversation.
"Thanks again, Dave," Paul said, raising the grocery bag like a toast to Dave. "Oh, by the way, your wife said you have a bright blue jock, but we couldn't find it. I've been looking for one like that."
Dave blushed deep red, aware that he was wearing the exact underwear Paul had asked for.
"If you can find that jock in the next five minutes, I'll give you thirty dollars," Paul said. "And based on the redness of your face, I bet you know exactly where it is."
"Dave, that's thirty bucks for something you bought in a pack of five," Dave's wife said.
"Sweetie, that's thirty bucks for something I'm wearing right now," Dave said.
"I don't mind," Paul said. "I'll wash it when I get home."
"I mind," Dave said.
"Dave," Dave's wife said again in that conversation ending tone.
The fact was that Dave enjoyed when his wife told him what to do, so he stepped away from the yard sale and back into the house. He stepped into the ground floor bathroom, locked the door and slid down his cargo shorts and jockstrap. As he was pulling the jockstrap out from the folds of his cargo shorts, someone pounded on the bathroom door.
"Mom says she hates those cargo shorts you're wearing," Dave's son shouted through the door. "She's told me to come get them from you too."
"Does your mom know that I'll have to Winnie the Pooh it past the front room windows to get back up to our bedroom?"
"I'm not gonna be the one who talks back to Mom," his son said. "Cargo shorts and jock, now, Dad."
Dave sighed, as he cracked the door open hiding his waist behind the door, and holding the cargo shorts and jock out to his son.
"I forgot you were wearing that shirt," Dave's son said. "Of all your clothes, you're gonna keep that one?"
"What's wrong with my shirt?" Dave said, feeling defensive and vulnerable and fully aware that his cock was out swinging behind the bathroom door as he talked to his adult son.
"Nothing," Dave's son said in his sarcastic voice. "If I only got to keep half my clothes, I'd keep a business casual polo. Especially if I was unemployed."
"I'll find another job," Dave said. "And when I do I'll need some business casual."
"I'd just choose a better business casual shirt," Dave's son said.
"Fine," Dave said, pulling his shirt over his head, and handing it out to his son, now standing, waist still behind the door, the flipflops on his feet the only clothing left on his body.
"Do you want me to cover you, while you run up to the bedroom?" Dave's son asked.
"I don't really want you to see your dad naked," Dave said.
"I don't mind," Dave's son said. "We're both men."
Dave hesitated, then shrugged, covered himself with a hand as he pulled the door all the way open, and stood completely naked (aside from the flip-flops) in front of his son, his cock not fully covered by his hand.
"Looking good, Dad," his son said, making Dave flush from head to toe.
Dave and his son made their way to the stairs that led to the bedroom. Dave's son stood in front of Dave as they passed the front windows, where they could see Paul and Dave's wife chatting and laughing on the front porch.
Dave started sprinting up the stairs, but he tripped, and had to uncover his cock to catch himself on the stairs. His left flip flop fell off his foot and down the stairs. Dave looked around as he was holding himself up on the stairs, his cock swinging in plain sight, his right flip-flop the only covering on his body.
Dave first noticed his son staring through the staircase banister, Dave's cock right at his son's eye level. Then he saw both Paul and his wife staring through the window, taking in every inch of his body.
Dave yelped, humiliated at the show he was putting on, at the fact that his son's face was inches from his penis, that his neighbor who had just bought Dave's underwear was getting to see Dave without any underwear on. He kicked off his right flip flop, and sprinted up the rest of the stairs, fully naked.
In the bedroom, Dave threw open his dresser to find some underwear and socks. His stomach dropped. All of his underwear was gone. Every single sock, even the loose socks he held onto hoping their matches would come back some day was gone.
He hurried over to the closet, his cock bouncing against his thighs as he ran. He threw open the closet door and saw a single pair of shorts folded on his side.
This couldn't be real.
If he was doing the math correctly, the only clothes left to his name were this pair of shorts, the flip flops at the bottom of the stairs, and whatever was out front that hadn't sold.
He pulled on the shorts, running through the options. His wife was a dominant woman, which he loved, but this felt extreme. Surely she'd left him something.
He ran to the laundry room. He knew he'd done the laundry yesterday, but he often left the last load in the dryer. When he pulled open the dryer, his heart soared, his procrastination was working in his favor today.
But as he pulled the wrinkled load out of the dryer and started digging through it he knew why his wife and Paul had spent so long in the house. There wasn't a single stitch of Dave's clothing in the dryer.
Shirtless, barefoot, and commando, Dave ran to the coat closet, certain he'd find a top, a hoody, or even a coat that he could use to cover his torso.
But of course, his wife had gotten here first. Her coats were all still hanging. Their son's coats were all still hanging, but Dave's coats were gone.
It hit him that all this time he had spent searching for a shirt of any kind was time that his clothing sat out on the yard sale tables, potentially being sold.
He closed the coat closet door, steeled himself as he thought about emerging in just his gym shorts, and he pushed himself toward the front door, aware of the way his cock swung obscenely pressed against his gym shorts.
At the foot of the stairs he looked for his flip flops, but of course, they were gone.
"Sweet heart," Dave called as he opened the front door, "Can I talk to you for a second."
"I'm busy, Dave," His wife called from the cashbox.
"It's pretty urgent," Dave called, hoping that she'd realize he didn't want to come outside with such flimsy modesty.
"One minute," His wife called, "I'm just finishing selling off your clothes."
Dave's stomach dropped. And modesty be damned, if he didn't move, if he didn't try to stop this, he might never be modest again. He stepped onto the front porch, then sprinted to the till, where his wife was handing over the flip flops he'd just lost on the stairs to an old woman Dave didn't know.
Dave didn't know if his wife had collected his shoes from the garage, but he assumed she must have. Still, his eyes searched the yard sale tables, searching for any fabric he could remember pressing against his skin. But all of his clothes were gone. The flip flops were it, and they weren't worth the fight for the inches of foot they covered.
"Looking good, Dave," Paul called once again raising the bag of Dave's underwear like a toast.
"Sweetie," Dave said, flushing but trying to ignore the lewd comments about his body coming from other neighbors. "Don't you think you went over the top?"
"What do you mean?" Dave's wife asked, sounding innocent.
"You know what I mean," Dave hissed. "How do you expect me to go out into the world like this?"
"You're out in the world right now," Dave's wife said, still feigning innocence.
"Sweetheart," Dave said, a begging whine in his voice.
"Dave," His wife said in that firm voice that made Dave excited.
"Most grocery stores have firm no shoes, no shirt, no service policies," Dave said. "And since you're the one working, I said I'd take on the grocery shopping."
"Since I'm the one working," Dave's wife said seriously, "I'm going to make the decisions around here."
Dave felt himself firming up under his gym shorts at the command in her voice.
"If you want me naked, just tell me to take my clothes off," he said, quietly, trying to make sure the neighbors didn't hear, and shifting so that the tent in his shorts faced away from their audience.
"Oh, I want you naked," Dave's wife said. "But you never would have had the guts for what I've got planned."
Dave could feel the precum on the tip of his firm dick, and he was worried that she'd see the wetness through the thin fabric soon.
"I can't spend my whole life naked," Dave begged, even though he knew he'd married a woman who would handle it.
"That's where you're wrong," Paul said.
Dave hadn't noticed Paul getting closer, since his attention was divided between the conversation with his wife, and his determination to hide his full mast boner.
"I want my shorts now, Dave," Paul said, holding his hand out.
"What?" Dave asked, his dick twitching as he was being bossed around by both his wife and his hottest neighbor.
"We made an arrangement," Dave's wife said.
"I'll pick up your groceries, if you clean my house," Paul said.
"It's not groceries," Dave said, now whining because he was so aroused, and panicked.
"I'll take care of all your outdoor errands," Paul amended. "But you give me your shorts."
"It's all I have," Dave said.
"They're not your shorts, Dave," his wife said. "Everything that's yours is mine, and those shorts were mine, and now they're Paul's."
"I want my shorts now, Dave," Paul repeated.
Dave moaned as his dick twitched against the fabric of this last article of clothing.
"Now, Dave," Dave's wife echoed,
And Dave moaned as he was taken in the waves of an orgasm. He arched his back, and gasped as Paul, his wife, his son, and the neighbors and strangers all watched him thrust his hips and spill into this last pair of shorts that were never really his anyway. Dave belonged to his wife. His clothing had belonged to his wife, and now he got to prove that to the world.
In the post-nut clarity, as Dave's wife and Paul both grinned at him, Dave flushed bright red.
"Haven't I been humiliated enough today?" Dave asked, his penis deflating against the wet fabric.
"Now, Dave," His wife said with a gleam in her eye.
And Dave, hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his last pair of shorts, which were really his wife's which were really now, Paul's. He maintained eye contact with his wife, until her eyes swept down to watch his penis emerge, to watch his feet step out of the pooled shorts, to watch Dave bend, scoop up that last article of clothing, and hand them to Paul.
"Good boy, Dave," Dave's wife purred, as he stood next to her, without a stitch of clothing to his name.
The unlucky guy
The unlucky guy Introduction: This is a story of the first guy convicted to PN (PermanentNude) punishment. PN is a legal punishment in which the convicted person has to leave all the clothes and remain stark naked for a specific period. Read how he was trapped into this situation and how he felt as soon as his worst day of his life begun. Driving at 4 kph more than the speed limit and a sequence of facts that can happen only once in a million altogether, transformed a small fine of 20 USD to an 1-year PN punishment for the pour guy of our story.
Friday morning: The nightmare begins
Last Friday seemed to be a normal day of my life. I woke up at 7:00 in the morning and I got prepared to get to my work. As usual, I had a 20 minutes drive before arriving at the premises of the company I am working for. I usually take the public transport but this morning, I don’t know why, I decided to drive to work by car. Unexpectedly, although it was 7:40 am, there was almost no traffic at the streets, and at some point, without realizing it, I exceeded the speed limit of the city center. I was driving by 54 kph with a speed limit of 50.
A police car was at the next corner of the street and they signaled me to stop at the right side of the road.
“Good morning sir”, police officer said.
“Good morning”, I replied.
“Can I have your papers please?”
”Sure”, I said, and I gave my driving license.
”You are driving by 54 kph. You exceeded the speed limit and we have to impose you a fine of 20 USD”.
“I am sorry for that, but I didn’t realize it. It was just 4 kph. Not a big deal.”
“Seriously?” Police officer asked me angrily. “Just 4 kph? Ok Mr, if you think it is not a big deal, go to the court and explain it to the judge”.
So instead of imposing the fine, the police officer prepared the paper for the court and submitted it electronically into the system. For such misdemeanor cases, of low significance, the person should appear to the court the next working day, that was next Monday for my case. A lawyer is not required in such cases. I got frustrated by the incident. I thought I was treated very strictly unfairly by the police officer but I couldn’t change it now. I continued driving to work without even thinking the nightmare that would follow.
I finished my work in the afternoon and I drove back home. After I finished my lunch, I did my favorite habit. I opened my tablet to read the daily news. While I was scrolling down, I read a very strange news. The city council was thinking to implement Permanent Nudity as a way of punishment. The subject was proposed for discussion by a city councilor. At this point I have to mention something about the city law. Every proposal for discussion and voting should have at least the signature of 1o councilors in order to be raised for discussion. Exceptionally, every councilor has the right to raise one point for discussion without any other signature once during the 4-years service. Consequently the proposal for the PN punishment would be discussed in the forthcoming meeting, which was on Saturday morning. I shut down my tablet and I laughed at this news. Stupid people, I said to my self. What did he have in mind when he raised this as point of discussion? What does he expect to happen? Does he ever expect to set nudity as a way of punishment? At night, I went to sleep without even thinking about that silly news that I read. I only felt a little bit anxious about the forthcoming court. But I shouldn’t be. I just have to be there on Monday morning, I will pay a small fine and that’s it.
Saturday morning: The big surprise
On Saturday morning I woke up and I got prepared for the weekend. Some shopping, supermarket etc. Last week was a difficult week at work and I had to rest a little bit during weekend. While I was following my routine, in the conference room of the town hall, the points of the daily agenda were discussed. The first issue to be discussed, was the proposal for PN punishment. As it was expected, there were many objections and arguments by most of the city councilors. Despite that, there were 2-3 more councilors that found the idea interesting, and that it was worth to at least try it. In order to avoid additional conflicts and to save time for more urgent matters of the agenda, the majority of the council took a strange decision. They would impose a PN punishment to one guy or girl, for one year as a test and they would discuss again the issue after one year. With this decision, they stopped the discussion about this point and they made sure that it wouldn’t be discussed again for the next one year. The choice of the person would be done randomly, among the forthcoming courts. No nature of crime was clarified. It could be for any person that was found guilty for whatever reason.
Monday morning: The court day
It was already Monday and I woke up earlier than usual because I had to appear to the court. It was a routine process, but I had to be there before 7:30 to get informed about the exact time of my turn. I put 50 USD in my wallet and I left home, since the highest fine for such cases is only 20 USD.I was not anxious about the money but more about the time I should spend. I had informed my company about it, but I didn’t want to be too late.
Meanwhile, already from 7:00 am, at the town hall, the civil clerks were taking care of Saturday city council’s decisions and sent the related correspondence to the interested parties. One of them sent an email to the courts, that a guy or girl should be chosen for one year of PN punishment. Mistakenly, the email was sent with a red flag, meaning with high importance, and it should be executed immediately. There was no direction regarding the nature of the crime. The only thing that should be taken into consideration was the certainty of guilt. The judge should be 100% sure for the accusation, so that the convicted person wouldn’t appeal to the decision. As soon as the secretariat of the city court received the red flagged email, they immediately forwarded it to the judges, emphasizing that it was sent with high importance and that action should be taken immediately, assuming that the PN punishment should be imposed today to the eligible person.
When I arrived to the building of the court, there were many people waiting their turn but most of the trials were suspended and postponed. The lawyers of the city declared a strike for 24 hours. As a result only cases that a lawyer was not mandatory would be forwarded to the court today, and all the rest would be transferred to Tuesday I walked to the table with the announcements of the time for the cases that would be processed today. I was the very first in the line and I would enter the court at 08:00 am. I regarded it as a big luck because I would end soon, I would pay my fine and I could go to work after. I couldn’t even think what would happen next.
It was already 08:00 and I entered the courtroom. I heard my name and I walked forward.
"Hello Mr…..,” the judge said.
”Good morning”, I replied.
“As I read here, you were driving in the city center by 54 kph. The police officer took photos of your car, your driving license, your ID card and one photo of your face when he stopped you at the street.”
“Ah”, I raised my shoulders.
"Since I am entitled to find one person for PN punishment as soon as possible, and since most of the trials today were suspended, I would kindly ask you to give all your clothes and your shoes to the police officer”.
“But your honor it was just 4 kph”, I mumbled….
"I know, but I want to make sure that I will find the PN person today” the judge said. “I continue… You are not allowed to wear any kind of clothing, underwear, socks or shoes for the next one year. You are also not allowed to use any kind of fabric or towel to cover any part of your body. You are only allowed to wear a simple mask only in indoor spaces as soon the use of it is obligatory. Otherwise your face should be uncovered. Mo nask, no hat, no sunglasses allowed. You are not allowed to use your car in the city. You should only use the public transport for all your movements inside the city. As a PN, a free pass to public transport is granted to you, as a result of your car seizure. The decision comes into force as of now. As I said, you are asked to give all your clothes to the police officer. You will be given a paper by the court, as a proof that you are convicted to 1 year of PN punishment. You will present it to everyone who wants to treat you differently because of your nudity. Your employer cannot neither fire you during this 1-year period nor change your salary or your position. No shop or establishment can prevent you from entering or deny to service you. The meeting is over. Who is next?”, judge said and a police officer cane to pick ne up.
In a state of shock I was lead by the police officer outside the courtroom, in a nearby office to give all my clothes. I started mechanically getting stripped. I had a terrible headache and I couldn’t even think about the whole situation. As soon an I was stark naked, I was lead outside the building. I was already naked at street. My new life for the next one year just begun. People around me were looking at my naked body. A group of young boys and girls took photos. I walked to the nearest subway station, to go to work. The only positive thing is that it was a sunny day and the temperature was already 25C (77F)
I reached the subway station and I entered the train. It was just now that I started realizing my situation. Now, I have to be naked for the next one year. How can this really happen? Why did they do this to me? What will I say to my parents, my relatives, my friends, my colleagues and my neighbors? Why did they choose me out of 1000 people? Why am I so unlucky?
Cyrus felt every muscle in his body quiver in embarrassment. It had all happened so fast. He’d been sitting in the subway when a seemingly friendly stranger approached him asking him for directions… before Cyrus knew what was happening, he’d been mugged, the stranger barking orders at Cyrus to strip down and hand over his belongings.
They’d forced him to reveal his phone password, so they could use Cyrus’s phone to take some pictures of the naked hunk, promising Cyrus that if he went to the police those images would be sent out to his entire contact list.
All Cyrus could do was start walking home, ascending the steps that lead from the subway into the bright sunlight, as naked as the day he was born…
Adam chuckled. “Good joke.” He replied to the art professor. Adam had accepted the job offer to model for the college art class in exchange for a little money on one condition: the art class wouldn’t draw him completely naked. He knew he’d have to take his shirt off, and maybe even strip down a little more for some cheeky tasteful nudes. But when the art professor instructed him to move his hands to his sides and bare his cock to the class, he knew the professor was just joking around.
When the professor didn’t respond, Adam began to feel a little nervous. “You promised me the class wouldn’t be drawing my dick, remember?”
The art professor fought back a smirk. “I sure did. I told you the class wouldn’t be drawing your dick, and I intend to keep that promise. Class, welcome to our photography unit.“
That was the exact moment Adam realized every single student in the room had a camera with them.
“Adam, the clock is ticking. Please get into pose as instructed.” The professor commanded. Adam took a deep breath as he obeyed, feeling the draft on his cock as the art students began giggling…
