Adrenalin and the risk of being caught completely nude

[Anonymous]

Not wishing to dominate things either but I have one last story (I promise!) from my early teenage years. It’s not as memorable as the one I posted on Saturday about getting wet and messy in the kitchen, in fact I’d forgotten all about it until I saw a cryptic reference to it in one of my very old diaries. So, once again, it’s all about adrenaline and risk, putting yourself in a situation where there could be a hugely embarrassing outcome if caught?

I’m a teenager again – still not old enough to vote – and I was in my bedroom, the tiny box room in our three-bedroom suburban house. It was, according to my diary, late afternoon early November and I was alone as everyone else was at work.  My brother worked variable hours and could have come home at any time, thundering up the stairs and barging into my room, invariably to spoil whatever I was doing.  This day, I was on my bed, reading a copy of Mayfair magazine I’d swiped from my brother’s stash.  I was wearing an old pair of jeans (quite possibly the same ones I wore when I’d stripped nude in the kitchen), an old flannel button-up shirt, and white cotton socks.  My jeans had a small hole in the knee (so fashionable now!) and as I read the magazine, gazing lovingly at the pictures, I started picking at the hole in the denim, pulling at strands of fabric, making the hole slightly bigger. Over the course of several minutes, the hole was about 2 or 3 inches wide but I was kind of oblivious. I started to fiddle with a button on my shirt, twisting it and twisting it until – oh no – it popped off. I moved to another button and slowly twisted that, straining the cotton thread, until that popped off too. I was getting turned on – who wouldn’t? I put the magazine down and returned to the hole in my jeans. It was big enough to get two fingers in – I grabbed the denim and pulled, gently at first, then harder until the fabric ripped, very loudly. Where the thought came from, I have no idea. But I reached up to my desk beside my bed and retrieved a pair of scissors from my pen pot. Heart beating, I made a hole in the other leg of the jeans and snipped away, making the hole bigger. I looked at my clock as the afternoon got darker – did I have time to take this further?  I decided yes – I was going to cut all my clothes off.

I snipped off two more buttons from my shirt, then made a hole in the sleeve, circling the shirt until the sleeve dropped off. I reached up the collar and made some more, deep cuts into the fabric and ripped it off. There were threads of cotton everywhere. I sat up, cross-legged on my bed, and snipped a hole in one of white socks – just a small one. Then another, then another, then cut the toe off the sock and eagerly ripped it off, more hole than sock. I did the same to the other one, where I was once again delightfully barefoot. I rose to my knees and snipped the button off my jeans and could feel my erection pushing against the fabric. I made further holes in my jeans, my hands shaking so much I was barely able to hold the scissors, as more and more of my clothes got trashed.  My shirt was hanging in tatters by now and I ripped the remnants off. I lay back down and cut more of my jeans off, a pile of fabric now on the bed and on the floor. Ripping and cutting, my jeans were finally removed, leaving me naked, except for my cotton white underwear. They didn’t stay intact for long…

I snipped small holes, careful not to cut my erection, and took great delight in cutting the fabric at both hips, finally pulling the shredded underwear through my legs, leaving me breathless and totally nude and completely vulnerable. If someone had arrived home, right at that minute, it was a situation that I could not have explained. But I was still alone, my half an hour or so of cutting and ripping my clothes off inevitably resulting in an adrenaline-fuelled orgasm.  I lay amongst the fabric for a few minutes, in post orgasmic bliss, feeling a bit guilty if truth be told. I eventually hopped off the bed and sprinted downstairs, still completely nude, and got a black bin-liner from under the sink. Back upstairs, I cleared up all the fabric, all the shreds of clothing, all the strands of cotton and stashed it in the bag. I found some new clothes, got dressed, then went and put the bag in the dustbin, burying it under other rubbish and bags.

Another exhilarating afternoon – I think that’s probably the last incident that would be of interest to anyone here.  I kind of miss that excitement though…the risk of getting caught.

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[NakedMadCat]

Apart from an uncomfortable situation many years ago, I’m not normally fazed, uncomfortable or embarrassed at being naked around others. I’ve done social nudity, do nude beaches, used to do a weekly nude swim, have done naked dares in Truth Or Dares, posed nude, been stripped nude, been caught accidentally naked as written about elsewhere – but there’s still something about going naked in a place you probably shouldn’t and being caught naked by the wrong person(s) in the wrong place at the wrong time, whilst trying to take a selfie!

 

Last week I did the open space challenge 11. I regularly do a powerwalk along the local canal. I’ve often wished I could do it, or some of it, naked, but it’s a popular walk with serious walkers, dog walkers, strollers, cyclists etc. I’ve even thought about doing a naked dare photo shoot – especially in summer when I wear just a t-shirt and shorts and go commando under the shorts – it would be very easy to get naked very quickly. However it wouldn’t be open enough to meet the conditions of the challenge.

 

But every now and then there are open fields either side of the canal, plus bridges originally built so farmers could get their cattle from one side of the canal to the other. One field, over a bridge and now going wild, is on a bend, goes slightly uphill and is, therefore, visible only to a short stretch of the canalside walk. So, on impulse, I decided to do the challenge. I crossed the bridge into the field and walked some way in. There is a mud trail through the field, suggesting that it is a regular shortcut – so there’s a danger that someone could walk through any time.

 

Although the day turned out nice, the morning had been frosty so the ground was wet.I was wearing shorts with boxers, two t-shirts and a fleece, and my proper walking boots.  Because of the wildlife along the canal I always carry a selfie stick that also turns into a tripod and has a remote, so I looked for somewhere to stand that where it wouldn’t fall over.

 

Then, deep breath, I stripped off, walked away from the camera and took a couple of pictures. Being in a rush I didn’t think about the lighting, so I am partly in shadow. I may try it again facing the other way, but the chances of getting a decent day to get naked before next spring are pretty slim!

 

It was fun, and exciting, and, fair to say the adrenalin was going and I was fearful of someone coming though the field and both of us getting embarrassed, or them threatening to call the cops!

 

I’ve submitted the photos to Ed and hopefully will meet the conditions of the challenge and be posted in the Master Dare List. Meanwhile, I’ve attached one below.

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[Anonymous]

You’ve been stripped nude?  That’s a story that needs telling!

That was quite a risky walk?  Very public.  I like the sound of summer walks wearing next to nothing…

[NakedMadCat]

Yes, I’m writing those stories up for the other thread.

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[NakedMadCat]

I don’t know why the formatting is so bad? I typed it directly in, and I tried editing. But I do find issues on the site on the Mac but not on the iPad! I may try and edit on the ipad later.

[Ed]

Are you using the visual editor or the text editor?

[NakedMadCat]

As I’m doing now, just typed it straight into the blank box below.

[Ed]

That box (or this box as I am writing) has a “Visual” mode and a “Text” mode (the tabs at the top of it at the right-hand end). Which are you using?

[NakedMadCat]

Ah, I didn’t notice that! It seems to be set to visual, so I’m now trying text.

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[Ed]

It should remember whichever tab you set it to. I have literally no experience of Macs at all, so I don’t know what they do. I’d tend to think that Chrome will work the same on every OS but I know that it’s pretty poor on Chromebooks, so that sadly isn’t the case.

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[Author]

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