Tag: men losing clothes

THIS IS HOW I WANT TO SEE HIM NAKED: ARTISTS, COLLABORATION AND RECLAIMING ENM FANTASY

December 15th, 2025

Like I’ve said time and time again in my pieces, let’s collaborate more. Let’s have more artists that are ENM enthusiasts to make the films and projects we want to see.

I have made what I want to see in an ENM story no secret: a male character that’s fully dressed that gradually introduces a theme of humiliation. Let’s not just see a guy naked, but really see how he got naked. Another thing I’ve said before, it’s not just the nudity that’s the star of the show, it’s the journey the character went through to being naked and exposed. That build-up of tension, the hot flush of embarrassment that slowly takes possession of a man’s face before even one article of clothing is removed? That really gets me going.

To me, embarrassment? Humiliation? Especially when it’s tied to the theme of a fetish is an art form, a manufactured thread that’s slowly peeled from masculine attire to reveal the flesh of the creative work compiled of artists and actors that really know how to invest in the bullet factories compacted in the realistic sweat of their brow. It’s fiction that’s specifically tailored to fit into the niche of ENM. And since this is a piece written from my point of view, I am compiling together just a few pieces I’ve written that I’d love to see made into films. More a sampling, really, of what I like to see when it comes to ENM…

DAVID’S NEW FRIENDS

This is one of my more requested works. If someone reaches out to me and asks me where to find one of my stories, this is usually the one they’re referring to.

This story centers on Dave. A husky bear-like type guy that’s shapely and has body hair for days. Dave is minding his own business, just walking listening to music when he suddenly finds himself surrounded by a bunch of guys that fancy themselves a “gang”. They’re actually dressed like West-Side-Story rejects and their “gang” activity is more PG-rated compared to actual gang violence. But, when it concerns Dave, their motivations are definitely more X-rated when it comes to public exposure.

These guys talk to David in a rather intimidating fashion ultimately leading up to asking Dave for articles of clothing: Hey man, can I have your shoes? Can I have your socks? Can I have your vest? So on and so forth until David really doesn’t have anything else to give up.

This story was fun to write because it encompasses a slow humiliation. Not only that, but the dialogue really revs up the tension. There are many points in the conversation where the character feels they may let him go, but it’s ultimately a false pretense. And by the point they start asking him for his clothing one piece at a time, the character is already in the throws of intensity.

Since this character is more beefy, it would be great to see a husky, bearish guy with a lot of body hair and a real nice face to be cast. One that can carry such a physique well. This would be fun to make into a short fetish film.

PROFESSOR DOLTON LEARNS A LESSON

One of my favorite kinds of ENM storylines is ones that involve a comical slant, where there’s a certain light-hearted nature and a playfulness that edges into a spicy territory. The main character can find himself in the slow shock of embarrassment that singles him out before his clothes start to gradually disappear.

In this story, Professor Dolton has started his class, but, what’s this? A mysterious voice enters the picture. No one knows where the voice is coming from and as the professor is thrown by the confusion of this disconnected voice, it starts to talk to him about the importance of teaching and how he doesn’t need much to realize that: not his papers or his desk or his blackboard and, eventually, not even his clothing.

This was inspired by a movie I saw when I was younger called “Kentucky Fried Movie”.

This was a parody that involved different skits and vignettes. One of them centered on a housewife that didn’t realize all the things that a certain product was made with that a voice was telling her about. It was one of those single-camera commercial parodies and obviously played for laughs. Every time something is mentioned that the product is made with, it disappears. While her clothing doesn’t disappear, her bra and the buttons on her blouse do.

This was actually my least favorite part. I personally don’t like ENF or embarrassed-nude-female material. It makes me uncomfortable and, personally, to me, media is too littered with images where women are more objects of desire. How many times in a drama or a suspense or horror or even a comedy where a woman is reminded she is just an object or something to be ogled and is humiliated or violated for it? That’s what those kinds of scenarios make me think of and it just gives me the ick

With that said, if that’s your thing and you don’t carry it out with malice or intent to harm, that’s fine. Like I said before, I don’t kink shame. And if everyone involved is a willing participant or it’s just a fictionalized story, then have at it. It’s just not my thing.

But, I did think to myself, what if the genders were reversed and it was a man? While it’s not the exact same scenario, it still has the playfulness and the sexiness of what I’m sure the original intent of that scenario was.

JAY’S WORDROBE MALFUNCTION

Okay, this, I think, would involve some kind of special effect or AI engine to pull off. And AI is something I haven’t mastered. Hell, I haven’t even gotten control of the basics.

This story involves Jay Dandridge, a smug business man in a cafe that is pretty pompous and treats everyone else like they’re less important than he is. He’s got things to do! And everyone else is just in the way.

This is also taking place in a reality where a certain type of magic exists. A world where certain people have certain abilities to make things happen. And when Jay treats the wrong person like carp, she soon takes vengeance by slowly making his clothing rip away from his body by magical means. And not only does she get in on the act but several other people in the cafe do.

Okay, this I’ve always wanted to see get played out. A man being slowly and gradually stripped completely naked in public by magical means has always been a fascination of mine and really gets me goin’. If you’ve read my previous stories and articles, then you know that the more public the scenario, the hotter I find it. And what’s better than a man being forcibly exposed in a coffee shop full of people in broad daylight?

Also, I put some dialogue in here that I really enjoy. One part I wrote involves an officer that Jay thinks has come to help him, but as the officer continues talking, he’s reminded that no one is going to be saving him from public humiliation. Here’s an excerpt….

“’He said there was some naked man exposing himself to everyone at the café.’

‘Huh, really?’ Justin says, caring this playful look and directing his eyes to Jay. And Jay doesn’t like the look on this smug guy’s face.

‘Naked!?’ Jay says. ‘Officer,’ he says, nervously laughing, ‘as you can see, no one’s naked. These people have been taking pieces of my clothing off using magic!’ he yells. ‘Thank God you’re here.’

The officer squints his eyes and shrugs his shoulders and pulls out a report. ‘Well, I’ve already got the report filled and, ugh,’ he points to a part of the paper and shows it to the baristo as Jay looks nervously onward. ‘I mean, Justin, does, ugh, well, that says naked, right?’

‘It sure does,’ Justin says.

‘Well, I mean, I’d have to fill out another report and it’s just a lot of red tape. I wouldn’t want to have to make more work for myself by having to do another report over again with you being partially dressed. It clearly says naked here, sir, soooo…’”

I really like writing dialogue like that. The kind that drags out the embarrassment and humiliation and really drives home to the character that, at some point, he is not going to be wearing anything and he will be the only person that has no clothing.

This, to me, is what ENM is all about: the embarrassment, the humiliation, and, most importantly, seeing how the clothing is taken away. Actually, more importantly than that, the dialogue and the tension leading up to that point. How it hints, at first, and makes the main character unsettled and slowly, it’s making him feel that sting of embarrassment and may even make him hold himself in certain ways and how even the clothing he’s currently wearing is feeling like a security blanket because it will soon be taken from him.

This is the type of fiction I like. This is what’s spicy to me.

And speaking of that, there’s one more type of scenario that really gets me going and it’s more of a classic to me. The ol’ dependable forced-to-strip scenario:

RICK’S EXPOSÈ

This story focuses on Rick Sals. An attractive red-headed gent that’s a public figure opening up a bank. But there are some protesters that are not liking the politics of this bank or how cavalier Rick has been about it all.

These armed protesters take control of this very public live-news event and decide to have a moment to chat with Rick. They want him to feel the embarrassment and the humiliation and degradation that he’s put others through. And, eventually, they force him to strip at gun point.

This simple premise has been at the baseline of my fetish ever since I’ve had it. It’s classic and dependable. Plus, I just really like that command being spoken: take off your clothes. Or, even better, in this case: take off all of your clothes.

This goes into seeing how the clothing is removed. Hearing certain commands is pretty hot. And listening to everything leading up to that command is exciting. This I would love to see in a film or a movie.

And, in all of these scenarios, there is one very important thing that is especially important to me: enforced full-frontal nudity. And none of that implied shit. No. I want to actually see it.

You see, for me, what’s missing in many forced-nudity/ENM scenarios of a visual medium is how it’s shot. What I want is a full body shot from head to toe from beginning to end. I want to see the embarrassment and the sweating bullets of the character and I want to see the clothing being removed or them having to remove clothing from a full-body shot. I want to see a man’s body being slowly unveiled just as I would if I were actually there. This, to me, is hot. Nothing annoys me more when the camera cuts away as the character is undressing or the clothing is being removed from him. Even if it does have full-frontal nudity, we didn’t see the best part… them actually stripping or being stripped.

With all of this said, like I’ve said before, it’s imperative to me that this all takes place within the realm of fiction. This is not something I would like to see carried out in reality. But it being acted out as it’s being filmed? That’s awesome. Or, if AI ever gets to that point or if I’m ever able to master AI to that point, creating a scenario where we see it play out just like this. And, hey, if anyone has any AI pointers, that would be helpful. Because, seriously, I am a complete novice.

But, this is just a sample of what I like to see as an ENM fetishist. This is what turns me on. I get that it’s not the same for everyone. And that’s what I like about this. It’s not for everyone who even shares this fetish. But the main thing is we all share this fetish. I would like to, one day, be able to make a short film or even a short fetish film, and gather some people together that are just as enthusiastic about this as I am where we all have the same end goal, how we want to see ENM portrayed. I say, you can do the same. However you want to see it, as long as no one is getting hurt or is actually being put through any kind of emotional distress or turmoil to get to the end product and everyone is a complete willing participant, then have at it. It would be awesome to see what people will come up with when they have the passion and the drive to create what they want to see.
Rick’s Exposé

December 15th, 2025

Rick Sals has his red hair slightly tussled, today, but just enough to make it look like he did it on purpose. His tufts of eyebrows are sculpted above his eyes, giving him this gruff softness and usually make his emerald green eyes shine. He left some stubble dusting the bottom half of his face that often gives the shape of it this playful look that he often cannot live up to. He has on a suit and tie today, but when he’s out, it’s just a T-Shirt and jeans. He usually has on a V-neck that often hints at the red chest hair he has which gives him this touch of spice. A little bit of fire.

Today is very important for him. It’s the grand opening of this bank, this bank that’s directly across the street from where Hope Bank used to be. It got closed down about a year ago. It was known as the people’s bank. The most transparent one in place many of the town’s people said. And now, Westingfield Bank has opened. And not a lot of people like Westingfield.

It’s gotten quite the reputation what with the unfair working conditions overseas. Those branches were closed down and now it’s pretty much all American. As an attempt at good faith. Today mark’s the first US branch to open.

Rick is standing in front of the reporters from the local news that have come to record the event. With everyone dressed in their best attire. That was the memo. The very same memo Rick followed as well. He found it an honor when his boss told him he’d like Rick to be the face of the opening.

“Mr. Sals, any word on any more banks opening?” one of the reporters ask.

As the cameras go clicking off, causing flashes to blink in and out, he nods his head, smiles, and says, “We anticipate all to go well. This is the beginning of a new era for Westingfield. We have now taken the helm of being transparent.”
“How does your employer expect to gain the people’s trust again?” another reporter asks.

“We’re aware our brand hasn’t been tied to very savory activities in the past, but that is why we shut down those places of business and are opening anew. More trust, more faith, more value.”

“What about all of those people in the third-world nations that are out of a job, now? How are they going to get their livelihood back?”

“We actually enacted a severance package. Once we caught the news of what our cohorts were doing, we were, of course, appalled, and upon shutting down those branches, we invested into the very communities our partners, that are no longer with us, mind you, put those people through. We believe that everyone deserves a chance to a fresh start.”

He smiles again as he nods to the cameras.

“Really?” he hears a deep male voice say, booming in the background.

This is followed by some actual screams and some people running. Many of the reporters turn their cameras around and as the blinding white from the from the eruption of camera flashes subsides, Rick sees what everyone is looking at.

Men. Smiley-face masked men with guns. Five of them. All in front of the bank. Rick’s heart sinks as his eyes go wide. His blood flushes cold as the color in his skin drains. This isn’t good.

“Your bosses, the people that have paid you to be here today, they paid you to say that, too, Mr. Sals?”

The reporters back away as many of the people are looking onward, frozen in fear.

“We’re not here to hurt anyone,” one of the other gunmen say.

“We’re not here for your money! We’re just here to make a point!” another one of the gunmen say.

“And we need everyone’s cooperation. Including Mr. Sals, here. The reporters keep reporting. Keep the cameras going. We’re more concerned about how this event goes than what happens to us.”

He doesn’t like the sound of that.

The main gunman walks up to Rick. He’s dressed all in black and his smiley-face mask is bright yellow like the sun. It’s strapped from the back of his head and completely covers his face. He’s built like a linebacker. He points the gun to Rick.

Rick’s heart jumps. He reacts by putting his hands up.

“You can keep your hands to your sides.”

Rick does as he’s told

“I have some yes or no questions for you, Mrs. Sals. I already know the answer, so answer wrong, and well, things could get very messy for you”

Rick really doesn’t like the sound of that, either.

“First one is simple enough. You got a bonus for being here today. True?”

Rick nods his head.

“Good. Next question, were you made aware that not all the branches in those third-world nations were actually closed?”

The answer to that question is yes. He could be honest. But that could mean his job. If he’s not, it could mean his life. He takes a gamble and his nerves nearly jump out of his skin when he says, “Um, n-no, sir.”

Silence. The gunmen looks at him. Rick doesn’t close his eyes, he just keeps looking forward . He does whatever he can to not make himself look guilty. No darting eyes or sweats or anything of the like.

“Really? Okay, well, did you also know that that some of the very people here were not only hired from Hope bank, but are getting paid far less? That they were pretty much told they had to deal with less than a living wage while you, Mrs. Sals, you are getting paid at least 90% more than anyone here?”

There’s no way he’s going to say yes to that.

“No, no, I didn’t,” Mr. Sals said, shaking his head. If the gunman makes threats, he’ll just start saying yes and later, say he was forced to under duress.

Again, silence. The gunman tilts his head. As he moves the gun in just a little close, he says, “You are . . . lying.”

Rick doesn’t say anything. He just tries to stay calm but is shaking. There’s some sweat coming down from his red hair.

“And, there’s a price to pay for that, Mr. Sals.”

“All right, yes, I knew!” Rick just blurts out. He’ll be able to explain this away. It’ll be fine.

The gunman tilts his head again, and chuckles. He can’t see past these masks, but if he didn’t know any better, he’s thinking that some of these masked men are smirking at him.

“You’re a fucking coward, Mrs. Sals. And today, we’re going to teach you a little lesson in what it’s like being stripped of some of your power.” The gunman shakes his head. “Kick over your shoes and socks please. Now.”

Rick quickly removes his shoes. Fumbling with the laces, but eventually gets them untied. He almost rips them off his feet, then his socks and tosses them.

“Good. Now, you see this gun in my hand, Mr. Sals?”

Rick quickly nods his head.

“Look at it.”

He narrows his eyes and looks down the barrel of it. How the gunman holds it with such precision and ease. Completely still. As if it’s a predator stalking its prey.

“What do you think would happen to your head if I pull this trigger?” the gunman asks.

“Um, well…”

“HUH!?”

“It would pr-probably explode,” he answers, looking around him and to the reporters that are still filming this.

“It would leave a pretty bad hole wouldn’t it?”

Rick nods his head.

“Wouldn’t . . . .it?”

“Ye-yes. Yes, it would.”

“Good. Keep that in mind. I want you to picture exactly what would happen if the bullet in this chamber goes off and goes right through that head of yours. Your blood, brains, pieces of your scalp and even skull embedded into the carpet. How horrible that would be on live TV. Are you picturing it?”

“Yes, yes, sir.”

“Good,” the gunman says, calmly.

Rick’s heart is clawing out of his chest. Rattling against his rib cage as if it’s an Attica prisoner running a metal coffee cup back and forth against the bones like bars. He’s still shaking. Of course, he’s shaking. His breathing is catapulted out of his mouth. Flaring through his nostrils. The sweat now dripping from his red eyebrows. Falling down his softly chiseled face. His suit clinging to his tightly defined physique as his skin pounds underneath the throbbing fear pulsating in his nerves.

“Because, Mr. Sals,” the gunman stops as Rick can practically smell the metal of the chamber, “I’m not going to kill you. That’s not what here to do, today. But make no mistake, there are a thousand ways to hurt you with this and even permanently injure you and I need you to keep that in mind when I say I have the gun. My . . . cohorts . . . have guns. And we’re not afraid to use them. On you. So, you will do what I say. Got it?”

Rick nods his head.

“Good. Now, the company paid a lot for you to be here today. I mean, how much is that suit? Huh?”

“Um,” Rick wants to hold off on the answer.

“Remember, I need you to answer, honestly.”

“Six thousand dollars,” Rick says.

The gunman whistles as a way to say, Holy shit. “Must be a nice suit. You are literally dressed in the injustices of the very company you work for. You realize that, right?”

Rick nods his head, again.

“Good. So, know this. My partners have this place held pretty solid. Cops are coming, of course. But we’re gonna be here a while.”

The gunman laughs as if a light bulb went off above his head. He moves his head up and down as if he’s giving Rick this scanning look while moving the gun the same way.

Rick isn’t sure what he’s going to say. He just wants to get outta here.

“In fact, we’ll let you go.”

Rick’s heart lifts up out of his chest. He’s never felt so relieved.

“Just after you do something . . . for us. For the people. As a sign of comradely. As a symbol that you are aware that everything down to the attire you chose for today is thanks to the people that you and your company are oppressing”

“O-okay,” Rick says.

The gunman inhales before he speaks and tilts his head again. “Take off all your clothes.”

Rick can’t believe what he just heard. He shakes his head. “Um, wh-what?” He laughs a little nervously. He looks to the reporters with all of those cameras facing him. To the other bank employees looking onward. His heart starts beating faster.

“I will say this once more, and if you don’t comply, I’m going for the knee. Take . . . off . . . all .. . . of . . . your . . . clothing.”

Rick’s hands move up a little and then stops and then move up more to the buttons on his blazer. As his shaking hands can barely hold onto the buttons that slide through the fabric of his blazer, opening it up further. “What do you think this is going to prove?” he asks as he opens the blazer up and slides it off his arms.

While he takes off the first article of clothing, the gunman says, “Throw it over to any of my men.”

Rick tosses it through the air and one of the gunmen catches it.

“Anything to take one of you fuckers down is a good day.”

“This really worth going to jail for? A juvenile prank?” Rick asks as his still shaking hand starts untying his tie He loosens it, un-knots it, sliding it through each twist of fabric, making it looser around his neck until he can slide it through his collar and tosses it to the same gunman.

“Oh, Mr. Sals. This is just the beginning.”

The gunman says that knowingly. Although, he doesn’t know what this maniac is hinting at.

“No one told you to stop, Mr. Sals,” the gunman says, motioning to his shirt.

He unbuttons his sleeves, then pops the top button on his collar. It springs open to either end. And as he moves his hands down, undoing more buttons, his white T-shirt underneath is revealed, clinging against his slim build. The V-neck dips down, revealing some of that red chest hair peaking through. He untucks his shirt from his pants and undoes the last button. He then removes it as if he’s surrendering a white flag. The lean muscle is seen shaping the length of his arms extending from the short sleeves of his V-neck. He tosses this shirt to the same gunman.

He can’t believe he’s doing this. He hopes that this is it. Because standing around in his underwear is humiliating enough. He thinks of this as he unbuckles his belt. The clanging of it can be heard over the dead silence. He slides it out of the buckle and then pulls straight through the loops of his pants and Rick can feel the warmth of the friction caused by the belt moving against the fabric of his pants. The slight tugging of his waist and then the release as the belt drops out of the last loop. He tosses it to the same gunman.

He then pries open the button of his slacks, which slides through. He waits for a second before reaching for the head of his zipper. And as he pulls it down, he starts and stops a few times. All the while, that sound. The very sound of a zipper being undone. Air is now being breathed open into his underwear. Which are a pair of briefs that his undershirt is tucked into. He holds either side of his pants, now completely open. Rick shakes his head. “C’mon man.”

“If you don’t continue, Mr. Sals, I will blow out your knees. Do you know how painful that would be?”

Rick rolls his eyes as he slides his pants down. He bends down. Now completely showing his underwear and how it clings against his ass. Which is firm and rounded. When he gets back up and throws the pants to one of the gunmen, the shape of his briefs can be seen clinging perfectly to the shape of his rear end. Which shows how he dedicates himself to squats and all that jogging. Then there’s the front. Where is penis is clearly seen packaged in the front, bulging out.

Rick holds himself, trying to cover how the outline of his nipples are poking through.

The gunman motions his hands up, obviously referring to his undershirt.

Rick sighs. But then reaches into the bottom of his undershirt, curving his fingers into the fabric and pulls up. The red hair on his chest is evenly displayed. It’s not thick, but it’s just enough to give further definition.

He tosses the undershirt to the gunman and continues to hold himself, now standing in his underwear. The hair on his chest and stomach is a thin layer, but all moves in one direction. Angling downward as if it’s a field of red-tinted grass crop dusted over his chest. A thin stream of hair goes down his toned stomach and reaches into the top of his underwear.

“Now, Mr. Sals,” the gunman says, still pointing the gun at him, “I did say all. . . of your clothes.”

His eyes widen as his heart sinks. This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening. Reporters are still standing on both sides of him. Patrons and employees are still looking forward. He’s about to be completely naked in front of everyone.

“C’mon man.”

“Do you know how it feels to live life with one of your knees being permanently out of commission?” the gunman asks, pointing that gun at him. Still and confident.

Rick shakes his head.

“Would you like to?”

Rick cautiously lifts his hands up. He lays his fingers on the band of his underwear. He starts digging into the waistband, feeling his nails scratching against his skin. He slowly pulls down. Revealing the shape of his firm butt cheeks. His red pubic hair springs up and out of his underwear as he immediately covers himself. With one hand, he steps each leg out of his underwear and tosses it to the gunman, now holding all of his clothes.

Rick stands back up and holds his dick with both hands.

“Those clothes you just took off have a little something extra in them, you know that, right?”

Rick appears confused as he narrows his eyebrows in together.

“Drugs. At least, that’s what the police will find.”

Rick’s heart sinks again.

“Now, you’ll be able to go outside, just need you to do one more thing.”

Rick doesn’t like the sound of that.

“Each person working here, each and every living human being that was working and some that still are working in those national branches go out every day, degraded, and humiliating themselves for you and your company.”

Rick breathes in more deeply as he continues to look forward.

“Now, answer me this, Mr. Sals. A person that has profited from all of that, that has benefited from such extreme debasing of human rights and the humiliation of your fellow kind,” he points the gun down to his hands, “Do you think that kind of person should be given the right to cover himself?”

He widens eyes as they nearly pop out of his skull.

He moves the gun to either side, knowing what this person is indicating. He wants Rick to take his hands off of his dick and show it everyone. This fucking pervert.

“I will shoot your hands,” the gunman says.

Rick looks down and take one had off his dick. The shaft is peaking through his fingers. The shape of his testicles is showing through in the curves of his one remaining hand. The one thing left that is standing between him and complete and utter humiliation.

Then, closes his eyes hard as he lifts his other hand off his penis.

It’s uncircumcised and is quite hung. Swaying, freely now, from the patch of red pubic hair that merges with the trail of hair going up his stomach and then up his chest. All is shown now. His balls now moving slightly as they swing back and forth with the delicate pendulum-like movements of his dick.

“You’re free to go. Keep your hands off your penis or one of my men will still shoot you.”

He swallows hard as he walks past the gunman and the past the reporters and the other patrons and all those people outside. His dick swaying with the movement of his legs. How the back of his legs bounce, firmly, and then ripple into roundness of his ass cheeks. He walks outside the bank, showing everything to everyone.
Professor Dolton Learns A Lesson

December 15th, 2025

Professor Jamie Dolton looks like he should be posing for a black-and-white Old Spice or Calvin Klein ad. At least that’s what he’s been told. His silver hair with the remains of dark brown blended into it is distinguished. He has it tussled but in a very organized way. Taking on the look of ocean waves crashing into the beach sand. The dark of his eyebrows is sympathetically lined above his eyes with the dark, dark hair that make his crystal blue eyes burn through. He also has a salt-and-pepper beard lightly defined around his jawline and going around his mouth that paints his features into this model chic. It’s like the musk of salt water spayed around the lightly tanned skin. He also has a tightly defined physique. It’s slightly bulky, strong, and muscular, and enough definition to give his build outlining into the shape of his clothes he always wears that is just tight enough to show his body shape, but only a hint.

“Professor?”

Not the voice he wants to hear.

Professor Dolton sighs and looks up to Randall. He’s standing there with his hands twiddling and he’s lifting up back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Randall. You’re not in my class, anymore, remember?”

“I, um, I know,” Randall sighs, nervously laughing. The curls of his dusty brown hair look a little more unkempt. He hasn’t kept up well. But that’s not Professor Dolton’s problem.

“Look, I wasn’t there,” Randall says. Regarding a fraternity prank that drove a fellow student off campus. They’d revealed some pretty personal secrets and the student just couldn’t be at the University anymore. He left to go back home and said he’d return to another campus in the fall. But the damage had been done.

And actually, the professor knew he wasn’t there. But he was pretty much the fall guy. He, unfortunately, is not only good friends with the people that did pull the prank but is part of the fraternity. In fact, he’s the one that turned them in. But the media was wanting everyone to pay. This meant Randall. And the professor is not about to sacrifice his reputation or position for some kid who doesn’t know better than to be involved with such a nefarious crowd.

“Randall, it’s done. I’m sorry, you can’t be here. I’m going to need to call security.”

“Please, Professor, I have nothing,” Randall says, putting his hands up. He can see tears well up in Randall’s gray-green eyes. “You know as well I do I didn’t deserve this. Please.”

“I’m sorry, ugh, Randall,” the professor says with some pangs of guilt.

Randall must have sensed this, because he then says, “If I can just sit in, I’ll, I’ll even go to the back, I don’t care.”

The professor turns his expression steely and emotionless. He is not risk ruining any of his reputation for this guy, even if he is innocent.

“You knew the consequences.”

Randall was about to start speaking.

“I will call security. Please leave,” he says sternly.

Randall looks down and runs off. The desperation of his slight cries cringes into the air and it makes the professor even more guilty for at least a minute. But he reminds himself the importance of his reputation.

He looks up and sees students beginning to fill in as Randall leaves through the front door. Some of the students look concerned while others ask what’s wrong, but he doesn’t answer and just flies past all of them.

The professor goes to the podium and begins gathering his material for the day. He looks up and sees some still arriving and finding seats. He looks to the clock as he walks away from the podium and to the front of his desk, facing everyone. There’s a few minutes before class starts.

Today, there’s a guest speaker, but he hasn’t seen him, yet. And there’s only about a minute left. He doesn’t like that any of his time will be wasted. So, if the speaker isn’t here on the dot, he’s going start without him. He’ll introduce the speaker, still, but will go about his lesson for the day until he arrives.

The clock strikes 8. He looks up and opens his mouth prepared to exhale his voice.

“Good morning, professor,” a voice says. He looks around as well as the other students. He looks up to the intercom, confused.

“Okay,” the professor says. “I’m not sure who just said that, but, um, good morning to you, too,” he says, looking out into the crowd. There’s some laughter. “So, today___”

“As a professor, you must realize the importance of teaching,” the voice says.

That, Professor Dolton didn’t much appreciate. “Okay, who’s saying this?” the professor asks looking out into this class. All of the students look confused. He’s sure it’s one of them. Maybe one of them can throw their voice.

“I realize this must be confusing for you, but today, I am here to show you and the class that you do not need much of anything to realize the power of teaching.”

“Okay, is this the guest speaker? If so, can you come out and play with the rest of the class?” he says, chuckling. “It’s not fair that no one can see you.”

“Oh, professor, you see, teaching is all around you. You as a leader of knowledge must know that nothing is as important as the words you relate.”

“This is not funny,” he says looking around. The students look to each other, now, some laughing. Some having a worried expression. Some just looking forward with a face that says how ridiculous this is.

“First, a professor knows how to stand. Straight and hands off to the side ready to express the lessons he is about to give.”

“Okay, I don’t know what is going on here,” the professor says out into the class, “but whoever’s doing this needs to stop. If the Dean put you up to this, it is not funny.”

He looks down and realizes that he is standing with his hands to his sides. He can move fine, but for some reason, he just stays like that.

He arches an eyebrow.

“A professor, a teacher, has much power in their personality and everything they give. They just need the power of their own words. They don’t need fancy computers.”

He hears a noise behind him. It’s almost like a hollow clicking sound. The students widen their eyes, and each have a genuine expression of shock.

He’s able to look behind him, but oddly, still stands up front with his hands to his sides. His computer that was on his desk. It’s gone.

Now, he’s pissed and he’s about to start raging. Then the voice says, “they don’t need their lesson plans.”

This is getting weird.

He wants to start looking around, seeing who’s doing this, but for some reason, he’s staying in the same place, still with his hands to his sides.

He looks down and even sees the papers he had in his left hand are gone now, too.

“Okay, who’s doing this?” Professor Dolton says, looking around the now confused class.

“No one’s really doing this, Professor. I’m just showing you how effective you can be as someone leading people. You, yourself, as the man you are and accompanied by just your personality and the words you carry. You don’t need all that much. Like that podium or chair.”

There are some gasps from the class as Professor Dolton hears that hollow clicking sound twice, now. It occurred after the voice said podium and then again after it said chair.

He tries to look behind him but is betting those are gone, now, too.

What the fuck?

“This is absurd!” Professor Dolton exclaims as he looks up to the class, his mouth agape.

“Oh, Professor,” the voice says. “I’m just showing you how effective you are as a person. Why, you don’t even need that desk.”

This time, after the hollow clicking sound, he hears things fall and clatter to the floor, causing him to flinch. He heard all of his items fall to the floor.

He’s about to object when the voice says, “you don’t need that watch you have on.”

Again the clicking sound as he looks down and his watch is gone. He looks around his class and tries to make sense of this. “This is____”

The voice interrupts and says, “Or those shoes.”

He drops a little to the floor as he gasps. His shoes or gone.

“Those socks.”

Pop. And now the socks are gone and he can suddenly feel the cold floor beneath his feet. His students are looking confused and some have a small smile on their face. He can even begin to hear some slight laughter. Not good.

“Those glasses.”

Within an instant, his vision goes slightly blurry. He can still see without his glasses, but they help and keep things in focus.

“Now, wait a minute,” the professor says.

“Or that belt.”

Clicking sound again. He can move his hands up to his pants and suddenly doesn’t feel any kind of belt in the loop.

“Okay, I get it!” The professor says. “You can stop now.”

“Or the buttons on that shirt.”

Suddenly, he can feel the air in the middle of his chest wisping against the grey and dark chest hair shaped against his solid pec muscles and rippled overtop his stomach and abdomen.

“YOU CAN STOP NOW!” the professor exclaims as his students start to look shocked.

“In fact, you don’t need the shirt at all.”

“NO!” the professor yells and he suddenly feels the air all around his now bare chest and back. The hair is extending over his shoulders and trails down the very defined muscles on his back. The class could now see how rugged his upper body is. His heart is beating a little faster as his nerves are beginning to unravel. There’s a slight embarrassment starting to well up in him. “Um, okay, okay, mysterious voice guy. I get it. I’m a good professor and all I need are my essentials. Can I get back to teaching my class?”

“Of course,” the voice says as relief jumps up into him. He’s still a little nervous because he still can’t entirely move from the position he’s in.

“Um, I think you forgot something,” he says looking up.

There’s actually some stifled laughter, now, from his class.

He arches his eyebrow in frustration, but it mainly clenching onto his feeling of humiliation.

“You can teach all day long,” the voice says. “You are great as just you.”

“Thank you,” he says, bowing his head a little. Although he finds he still can’t move around too much. “Um, do you mind?” he says extending his hands and looking up, still trying to see where the voice is coming from.

“Not at all. Professors of your caliber don’t need too much. In fact, you don’t need___”

“NO!” the professor yells looking up out of a panic.

“That white board behind you.”

Pop.

He looks behind him and the board is gone. There are now some gasps in the class.

A bit of relief eases into him, but it settles into a rather discomforting unrest that he refuses to let go of until he can actually move around.

“Or the button on those pants.”

Pop.
He dashes his head to the front and looks at his class, widening his eyes. Some students are hiding their faces while others are red faced and others are laughing a bit.

He darts his head down and sees the button on his pants has now vanished and there’s nothing in the horizontal slit. The very top of his pants have curled open and there is a dark elastic waistband peeking through that is his underwear.

“Okay, I, um, I get the point,” Professor Dolton says nervously. “I’m a great professor, I don’t need much. Point proven. Can I move on, now?” his voice cracks through.

“You are leading his nation and can go on by the very power of your presence. And you’re correct, you don’t need much, like that zipper.”

This time the hollow click that pops into the air is accompanied by a zipper sound that is descending as if it’s being pulled down. He can feel his pants have popped open at the zipper and when he looks down, the zipper is gone. Now, more of his dark underwear is seen. The fabric is clearly shown beneath his pants and it swells near the bottom where his penis is securely held in.

“Ummmm,” is all the professor manages to say while swaying his arms from side to side and moving his legs to the extent that he can with nervous, periodic movements.

“Now, don’t you see professor, don’t you see how you can help the world?”

“Yep, I got it. We’re all good here,” he says emphatically moving his head up and down as red begins to flush through his cheeks.

He can see some of the class is taking notice of his upper torso. The bulk of muscle defined through the length of his arms and his thick chest hair merges between gray and dark as it extends down his chest and his stomach that is concretely rippled with the strong abs that can clearly be seen beneath the hair heavily sprouted from his skin tightly shaped over his muscles.

“Good,” the voice says. “I’m glad you understand. So, you won’t be needing those pants.”

He can feel the very instant they vanish. He looks down and sees he’s just in his underwear. There’s a series of gasps that deeply inhale through his class.

He wants to curl his hands over his crotch or at least his stomach but can’t.

He has very strong calves and every one can now see he’s hairy everywhere. The dark hairs are ruggedly layed out overtop his calves emboldened with solid muscle extending all the way up to his dark blue briefs. And his briefs are swelled, tightly, over his rounded and high butt cheeks, and the bottom of his round ass is seen. Hair gets slightly darker as it extends into the bulge of his underwear.

“Okay, this is great. Really, it’s fan-fuckin-tastic. I get it. Can I move on with my day?”

“You can always move on with your day, professor,” the voice says. “Look at how defined and professional you are. Although, you would be more professional if you stood up straight.”

He jolts his body up and his arms are now tightly held at the sides of his body.

“See how much better that is, professor.”

“Um, ye-yes. Yes, I do.” He practically exhales his words. His voice is fading through like this nervous strand that is unfurling from the base of his throat.

“Great. See, professor, you don’t need much. Don’t you look great standing there in just your bare essentials?”

“Yep,” the professor agrees, quickly, “yes, I do.”

“Although, it’s not entirely your bare essentials, is it?”

“Um, well, yes, yes, it is,” Professor Dolton says in almost a pleading voice. “Don’t you see, I’m confident. I’m confident and ready to start the day,” he says more loudly in a demanding voice.

“Well, you certainly sound it,” the voice says. “And that is a great pair of underwear you are standing in.”

“Um, great, thank you,” the professor says with red beginning to flush into his cheeks.

“I don’t know, though, professor. You are suddenly certainly not acting confident. I’m wondering if even need to be wearing that pair of underwear.”

He widens his eyes. “Um, yes, yes I do. I’m sure I can teach.”

“Well, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Great, um, well, class,” he says looking around trying to keep his composure. Sweat begins to collect at his forehead.

“Why are you sweating, professor. Do you need to cool down? Maybe___”

“NO! No, I’m good. Really, I can go on.” He says looking around.

Some of his class is smiling. Most are now looking straight at him, amused. His stomach is sinking.

“I don’t know professor. I think you’d be much more comfortable standing in nothing but your potential.”

“I’m good, really,” the professor says. “I’m fuckin’ great, man. Truly.”

“No, I think you’ll benefit a lot from being in your natural state.”

“No, truly, I’m fine. It’s all great.”

He hears now laughter coming from the class.

“No, professor, I really don’t think you need that underwear.”

And then, pop.

“Oh, my God,” someone exclaims as others take an even bigger gasp.

He can feel his dick drop and sway slightly. He widens his eyes and is able to slowly look down.

Everything is revealed, now. How his body hair gets even darker as it merges into his pubic region and is heavily grown out into this bush just above the long, thick shaft of his dick and the skin of his circumcised penis pulled up above his helmet where the red bulbous shape is in clear view from the slit at the base of it. His testicles are hanging beneath his dick and hang like two marbles stretched into skin that connects into his dick.

The two boulders of his glutes are perfectly rounded. Hair is everywhere. All over his ass, his legs, his arms, grizzled over his muscular shape.
David’s New Friends

December 15th, 2025

David Bishop is a husky, bearish guy. He has a slightly shaggy head of hair. It is very short, but the front of it wisps up in tuffs and the rest of it covers his entire head in a thick layer of dark brown. His eye brows are somewhat bushy, but finely shaped at the same time and perfectly balance out his eyes that are slightly sunken in and have this brute kind of appearance and pupils surrounded by a copper tone that shine, the same kind of shine you’d see from pennies shimmering at the bottom of a wishing well. He has a nice, thick beard that is cropped just right and covers the entire bottom of his face and is perfectly lined past his jaw line. His physique is far from muscular. Definitely more of the teddy-bear variety. At least everyone that’s dated him has said that.

Today, David has on a knitted vest that has thick, vertical lines of brown and white over top a bright yellow, long-sleeved buttoned-down shirt with the collar folded over the top of that. And he is wearing his faded blue jeans that kind of hugs his bottom figure. Not too much, just enough to showcase his husky physique and one could plainly see that, for a guy with bulk, he has a nicely shaped ass. And he has on his black-and-white sneakers.

He is walking out in the city. He usually walks with his headphones on and sometimes, does it just to walk. And right now, he has a mission. He must go to the grocery store and pick up some cake for his friend’s birthday party. Another friend of his made him swear that it looks like a cake she made. But that was Steph.

As he’s making his way forward, he sees a group of young guys that look like they’re in their mid-to-late 20s. They look familiar. In a way that gives him a little chill. He thinks they’re that gang that’s been making trouble around the area. Well, “gang” isn’t really the right word. They haven’t killed anyone, just made things a little more difficult for some people. You don’t really get gangs out here.

He’s just gonna keep looking down. They’re getting closer. Maybe he’ll smile and nod.

They’re all dressed up in leather jackets and jeans and have this kind of immature appearance. Like they just wanna make trouble. But David shouldn’t judge.

He then nods and smirks at one of them. A guy with jet-black hair that’s kind of swoopy and powder blue eyes and a chiseled face. Not a bad lookin’ dude. In fact, they’re all rather attractive gents. The main guy, at least that’s what he looks like to David, the one with blue eyes, is wearing a wearing a black top. Much like the one you’d see in a certain late-seventies musical. The guy nods back and then lifts up his hand and points at his headphones while saying something, making a genuine look of interest.

He really shouldn’t, but against his better judgment, he takes out one of his headphones and says “Huh?” in a kind of playful, innocent way to make him look more approachable.

“Whatcha listenin’ to?”

“Um, I think it’s one of the latest top 40s. It’s just one of those poppy kind of days, ya know?” David says, laughing a bit, but there is a slight nervousness hiding underneath his voice.

The guy isn’t shy about showing a devilish grin. He wants something, David knows it.

And the rest of his little gang look on at him.

“Nice phone,” one of ’em says.

“Thanks,” he says.

“So, uh, where you headed?”

“I’m going to get a cake. But it has to be soon.”

“Man’s in a rush,” one of ’em says.

“Yeah,” another chimes in.

The main guy looks at him and says, “I get it, you gotta get goin’, right?” He asks it more like a genuine question.

The other guys start walking around him, forming a circle. This . . . isn’t good. And shit, not a lot of people are out today. It’s mid-Sunday and some cars and people go by, but they all seem to be just out of reach of David.

He walks forward, expecting them to let him pass,

“Hey,” another guy says, this one wearing a leather cap. It’s like these guys stepped out of the Fifties. He almost wants to ask how’d they feel about being the remaining extras from “Happy Days,” but decides against it. “I know you gotta split, but, we wanna talk.”

“I’m sorry?” David said as his heart starts beating quickly.

“We saw you from round the corner and we thought, hey.”

“Now there’s a guy that seems like he could be fun. You got this real cool vibe about you, bro,” one of the other guys say.

“Look, guys, I gotta go…”

He tries to walk forward again and then the main guy yells, “Hey! Don’t you know it’s kind of rude to walk away. Now, I feel hurt,” he says, smugly, as he puts out both his hands, kind of like he’s saying, ‘c’mon, man.

“I’m, ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Well, now, we can’t let you leave . . . yet.”

“Oh, c’mon guys, I gotta go,” David says, trying to sound as confident as possible.

“You don’t really wanna leave this circle, guy.”

As one of the guys says this, he takes a good look around. He is definitely outnumbered. He could call the police, but one of ’em could simply knock the phone out of his hand.

He’s getting antsy and nervous. “Okay, um, look, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Yeah, we know,” the main guy says. “I’m sorry, brother, what’s your name?” he asks quickly, as if he’s expecting an answer just as quick.

“David.”

“Well . . . David, you gotta pay a price, not just apologize. We gotta know you really mean it. Don’t worry, you can keep your phone, but can you put it down please?”

“I can just put it in my pocket.”

“Just put it down on the ground, man,” one of the other guys say behind him.

He bends down and puts his phone on the ground and gets back up. Meanwhile, he’s getting more and more afraid.

“Now, about this price,” the main guy says. “One of my boys over there has a real sad story.”

“It’s sad, man,” one of ’em says behind him, almost tauntingly.

“His friend lost his favorite pair of shoes. They really mean a lot to him.”

“Yeah, like, a lot,” one of ’em to the left of David says.

“Okay, what do you want from me?”

There’s silence as he looks at David, almost like he’s feeling that David should know what he’s about to ask. Then says, “Can we have yours?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You don’t want to disappoint us, now. Do ya . . . David?” one of the other guys say as he looks at him while tilting his head and giving him this playfully evil look of curiosity.

Not enough people. Where the hell is everyone?

David sighs. “O-okay.”

He bends down and starts untying one.

“Take your time, David,” the main guy says. “We got all day.”

“But he doesn’t, man,” one of the other guys say.

“Yeah, dude, don’t you listen?” They all then laugh like they’re sharing an inside joke.

He takes one shoe off and then unlaces the other one, quickly. He wants to get out of here. He takes the other one off and hands it to the main guy.

“Thank you, David, that was kind of you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The main guy has this expression of feigned concern as he looks past David.

David looks at what the main guy is looking at. And it’s the dude whose friend needed David’s shoes. He has his hand over his mouth and is looking down at the ground while shaking his head.

“What’s the matter, man?”

“I mean,” the guy says, “The shoes are great and everything, but he’s gonna need socks to go with ’em.”

“But your friend has socks, man,” one of the others say.

“Yeah, I know, but these were very special shoes, man. My friend needs them to go in a pair.”

The main guy looks at David and tilts his head at him.

“I’m sorry to be such a bother, but,” he glimpses down at his feet, “do you mind?”

David hesitantly bends down again and takes off both his socks and then gives them to the main guy.

“Okay, guys, I, ugh, I gotta go, now.”

“Yeah, we know, man, you keep saying that,” one of the other guys say.

There’s a slight chuckle among the group.

“Well, we certainly don’t wanna stop you,” one of the guys say.

“Yeah, really,” one of the others say.

“Hey,” one of ’em chimes in. This guy, David hasn’t heard from, yet. “That’s a real nice vest, man.”

“Ugh-h-h-h, thanks,” David says, looking down at it then back up at him.

“Where’d you get it?”

“You can find this online. There’s a shop around the corner.”

This guy puts his fingers to his chin and then goes, “Huh,” while eyeing the vest. “Huh, huh, huh”

David doesn’t like where this is going.

“Well, that one specifically, looks great, and it’s just my size, too.”

“Yeah, man,” another says. “It’d look nice on you.”

“And, hey, I can buy it, but we’re buds, right, David? Pals,” the guy asking about the vest says. “I mean, I feel we’ve become close to you,” he says as he clasps his heart with both hands and nods his head, really playing it up.

“So-o-o-o?”

“Oh, I feel like such a heel asking, but,” he stops for a second, forming this questioning, cautious face. “Can I have yours, bro?”

He looks around again. Again, not enough people. And all these guys look like they could pounce on poor David any second.

He then leans his hands towards his vest and takes them away, not sure if he should. He holds onto the bottom of the vest, still deciding. Then, pulls it up over his head and hands it to the guy.

They all start clapping, while saying things like, “Good sport, David,” “Way to go,” “We knew we’d like you.”

The guy takes it from him and looks at it while giving it this approving look. “Good man, David.”

“Okay, ugh, I . . . gotta go, um, guys. Anything else?”

Why did he just ask that?

“Cool belt buckle,” another guy says. “Is it attached to the belt?”

“Um, no, they’re, uh, separate,” David answers.

“Nice, really nice. But, I’m sure they go best together, right?” the guy asks.

David looks over to the guy and says, “Well, um, you don’t really need ’em together.”

“I know that, David. But, you seem to have a really good sense of style. You just got it together, man.”

“Yeah,” another says. “We could learn a thing or two from our friend David, here.”

“I mean, you just got the right color,” the guy asking about the belt says, “ya know.” He adds those last two words in a tone that seems suggestive as he gives David this imposing look.

“Um, yeah.”

“So?” the guy says, lifting up his hand waiting for David to finish his sentence.

“So-o-o-o-o-o,” David says, his heart beating faster, now.

The guy looks down at the belt and the buckle and then back at him.

“You-u-u-u-u-u want ’em?” David asks.

“Wow!” the guy says, “you are very perceptive.”

David takes off the buckle and then unfastens his belt while the guy says, “Really, David, thank you. This means a lot, man. Won’t forget it, seriously.”

David slowly pulls out the belt from the loops of his pants and then walks over and gives it to him. This is his chance. He could make a run for it. But the other guys look at him like they know what he’s thinking.

“You naughty boy, David,” one of the guys looking at him says. “You were thinking of leaving us, huh?”

“Ugh, no. Not at all.”

The guy frowns by pushing out his lower lip.

“And leave your phone behind? Not smart, man.”

David nods and backs up. But the guy that was frowning at him puts his hand up and says, “Wait. Wa-a-a-a-ait, wait, wait, wait.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I thought of a way you could make it up to me.”

“Um, okay, how?”

The guy is looking up and down at David’s yellow shirt. David looks down at the shirt and then back up at him. They won’t possibly ask for that, David thinks. What do these guys wanna do?

The guy eyeing David’s shirt taps his finger to his lips and goes, “hm-m-m-m-m-m-m. You just got a really good sense of style, David. I mean, really. And that is an awesome shirt, man.”

“It is, though,” one of the other guys say.

“I mean, how do you throw this stuff together?”

“Um, I don’t know. I just get dressed like all of you.”

They all laugh.

“Yeah, we all get dressed.”

“Just like we all undress,” one of the other guys say.

He doesn’t like that that other comment was added. God, why did they say that? What’s they’re end goal, here? That, David shudders to think.

“I’m sorry, dude, I know we’re askin’ a lot of you, but, ugh, can I have your shirt, man?”

“What?” David says, laughing nervously.

“Your shirt. You really don’t wanna make me ask again, do you, David?”

David looks at the guy and at the ground a few times as he slowly brings up his hands and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“Atta boy, David,” one of the other guys say.

He reveals the under shirt. A white tank-top with his thick chest hair above it. He pulls his shirt up out of his pants and unbuttons the cuffs before removing it, completely, and giving it to him. Now, more of David’s body is seen. His nipples are easily outlined and his pecs hang through the shirt like nice, thick chucks of meat. And anyone can plainly see, now, David is quite a hairy guy.

“Wow, dude, thank you.”

“I don’t know, man,” one of the other guys say.

“What?” the guy that took David’s shirt says.

“I mean, like you said, David has a nice sense of style. And only he would know you gotta wear that white undershirt underneath that yellow shirt.”

“Yeah, man,” another guy says. “It really pulls the whole outfit together.”

“Okay, guys, really.”

“What, David?” the guy that took his shirt says with fake concern. “I mean, you know they’re right, right?”

David looks around and reluctantly nods.

“So, I think you know what I’m gonna ask, David,” he says.

David nervously looks down at his tank top and then around the street.

“What, David? It’s not a bad thing to help your friends,” the guy holding the shirt says. “And anyone that walks past can see that.”

Nervously, David curves his fingers at the bottom of the undershirt and pulls up. Unveiling a stomach and chest that are completely covered in hair. There’s even this thicker line of hair that traces underneath his meaty pecs and then meets at a happy trail that’s going all the way down his stomach and into his jeans.

David gives the guy his undershirt.

“Great.”

“Well, gents,” the main guy said. “I think we should get going, yeah?”

Internally, David has a big sigh of relief. He’ll look funny without a shirt and shoes, but at least he won’t have less than that.

“Yeah,” another guys says. “David’s gotta get goin’, right?”

David nods his head as this big smile that practically swallows his face.

David is about to reach for his phone.

“Oh, wait, man,” one of the other guys says.

David stops. His heart literally jumps.

“What?” the main guy says.

“We got that party tonight, man.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Um, what did you say, bro? You, um, you wearin’ those jeans, right?”

David still is bent down reaching for his phone. Not sure if he should or not.

The guy clicks his tongue and says, “I don’t know, man. I mean, these jeans haven’t been washed in a few days.”

“Well, you got other pairs, right, bro?” another of ’em asks.

“You know what, you’re right,” the guy responds.

David continues to lean for his phone.

“Wait, bro,” another guy says, “Didn’t you say that your girlfriend is borrowing your pair of jeans?”

“Oh, that’s ri-i-i-i-i-ight. She is.”

“Well, did you have another pair?”

“I don’t know, man.”

David’s heart starts pounding again. This red begins to flush out his cheeks.

“I mean, I got my other pairs, but none of ’em really have that look, ya know? I mean, like, our friend, David, here, right? I mean, man, just look at those jeans.”

“Yeah, man,” another dude says. “You gotta admit, David really knows how to pick ’em.”

“Hey, where’d you get those jeans, David?”

He quickly turns around and looks up at the guy. “Um, online,” he says, almost breathlessly. “I mean, really, you can find ’em anywhere. Really, you can.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. You’re smart, David.”

“Great.”

David’s about to turn around when he notices the guy is putting fingers to his chin. “Bu-u-u-u-u-u-ut, I mean, I don’t think they’re gonna have your touch, David.”

“Yeah, dude. Only you can rock a pair a jeans like that, bro”

“For sure.”

“I mean,” David says, “you, you don’t want mine.”

The guy asking about his jeans gives him this look like a light bulb went off above his head. “Actually, now that you mention it, David.”

“Oh, c’mon, man, you don’t want my pants.”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

“When he’s right, he’s right,” another guy says.

“But, dude, this is David we’re talking about here,” the main guy says. “I mean, look at what all he’s given us. He’s a really selfless guy.”

The guy asking about the pants squints his eyes and shakes his finger at the main guy. “You do have a point, man.”

“Oh, c’mon guys, seriously?” David asks, almost exclaiming it.

“David, calm down, man,” he says. “We’re not gonna have you do anything that is gonna make you feel uncomfortable,” he adds.

“Yeah,” another guy says.

“Although, sometimes, we just gotta be pushed.”

“He’s right,” the guy says, eyeing his pants. “Be a pal, David. Can I have your jeans?”

David twiddles his fingers and bobs back and forth. He nervously smiles and reaches for the button of his pants and slowly begins to slide it out of place. This is followed by him pulling his zipper down. The very sound of it is making David shudder. He then pulls his jeans down, exposing his white underwear, and thick legs. He pulls his feet out of them, one at a time, and then hands them to the guy.

David walks backward while covering his crotch.

“David, you seem like a proud guy,” another guy says.

“I g-guess.”

“Then why you standing like that, bro? Pull your back up.”

David stands up.

“There ya go. And put your hands to your sides. That’s how real confident men stand.”

“Yeah, dude, I read that in an article.”

David looks down and up a few times and then cautiously puts his hands to his sides, pushing his very hairy chest and belly forward. He is now in his underwear in the middle of the street.

“Oh, you’re wallet, dude,” the guy says.

“Yeah, we’re not thieves, David.”

The guy pulls David’s wallet out and then brings it over.

As David takes his wallet from the guy, he tilts his head and goes, “Huh.”

David doesn’t like this. What the guy is looking at is David’s underwear.

“Man, that’s a nice pattern on your underwear, dude.”

“Um, thanks,” David says, quickly, taking the wallet.

“I mean, they’re just white underwear, but I think we’ve learned by now, no one does it like David,” the main guy says.

“Hey, dude, what’s your underwear drawer look like?” the main guy asks one of the other guys.

The other guy seethes in air through his teeth and says, “It’s lookin’ pretty slim, man. I mean, I got a lot of colors, but not your typical tighty whities like David here,” the guy says pointing at David’s last remaining piece of clothing.

David starts breathing hard.

“David, you okay, bro?” the guy pointing at his underwear said.

“Um, yeah.”

“Hey, ya know,” another guy says. “I heard somewhere that there’s a kind of meditation.”

“What kind of meditation?” another guy asks in that feigned curiosity.

“Well, you see, you’re calm, you’re collected, and it works.”

“Really?” one the guys say.

“Yeah,” the guy that brought up the meditation says. “Exce-e-e-e-ept, you gotta be wearing a bit less than David over here.”

David looks at him, quickly.

“It’s, it’s okay, man.”

“David, you’re our friend man,” another guy says.

“And friends know when friends are in trouble.”

“Yeah, we care, David. Really, we do, and you need to de-stress.”

“It’s um, it’s okay, really. I’m, I’m calm,” David says.

“Man, you are just screaming for help and you don’t even know it,” one of ’em says.

“Okay, look,” the main guy says. “You should really try it. I mean, you don’t wanna disappoint, us, do you?”

“Yeah, dude. You won’t like how that ends,” one of ’em says as they close in on him.

David’s breathing becomes a bit heavier as he notices the guys are walking closer towards him, tightening up the circle, almost breathing on him.

“Really, David, we’re doing this because we care,” one of ’em says, all looking at David with a bit more menace hidden underneath their sarcastic expressions.

David has his hands at his crotch again.

“David, I thought we talked about this,” the main guy says, eyeing David’s hands.

David removes his hands from his crotch and stands at attention.

“Great, now, I don’t wanna see that back slump and I don’t wanna see those hands anywhere else but at your sides,” the main guy says. “Okay, David? Or we’re gonna have to,” he squints his eyes cautiously. “Or we’re gonna have to get violent.”

David nods.

“Okay, now,” the main guy says, putting his hands on his shoulders, “Just calm down. Keep calm, okay, David?”

David nods his head again.

“Now, close your eyes.”

David doesn’t like this.

“Close . . . your . . . eyes, David” the main guy says more threateningly.

David closes his eyes.

“Now just think of the ocean. Are you thinking of it, David?” the main guy asks as David still feels his hands on his arms.

David nods.

“Good. Keep thinking of that, okay? Just keep thinking of the waves going ba-a-a-a-ack and fo-o-o-o-orth.”

As the main guy is talking, he feels another pair of hands on his underwear. And feels them pry into his waist band.

Then feels the main guy take his right hand of his arm and put it over his heart. It’s beating very fast.

“Just think of sound of the wa-a-a-aves,” the main guy almost whispers.

The prying fingers are now pulling at his underwear.

“Just think of the clouds and the bi-i-i-i-irds. Are you picturing it, David?”

David nods quickly, as he feels the very thing he doesn’t want to feel. His underwear is beginning to be pulled down.

Instinctively, David reaches for his dick.

“David, keep your hands at your God-damn sides, all right?” the main guy says as he feels all the other guys breathing on him.

David nods his head, keeping his eyes closed.

The air is starting to kiss his butt, now, while he can feel his pubic hairs unfurling from the stress of the waist band being pulled away from them.

“I’m sorry I had to get a little mean,” the main guy says.

His shaft is now trembling a little bit from the waistband of his underwear rubbing his dick as it’s slowly being exposed.

“Now,” the main guy says, keeping his hand on his heart. “Just keep picturing the beach.”

His prick now flops up, slightly, as it now has completely escaped his underwear. His whole ass is now shown. They’re like 2 soft boulders. Smooth and rounded just like the moon. With a little bit of hair over them.

“Listen to those wa-a-a-aves, David.”

His underwear is now being pulled all the way down his legs and he can feel the pair of hands pressing against his feet. Reluctantly, David lifts them one at a time. And now, his last shred of clothing has been taken away. His cock hangs like a meaty twig from the thick curls of pubic hair and his balls are perfectly rounded into a pair shape behind his dick. He’s completely naked in the middle of the street.

David still has his eyes closed, and he can feel the main guy’s hand pull away from his heart and then feels his fingers trace the hairs all the way down his stomach.

“Keep thinking of those waives, David.,” the main guy whispers. He can still feel the body heat of the other guys tightly closed around him.

The main guy plays with David’s pubic hair, and then his hand caresses his dick.

“Woooooshhhhh,” the main guy says.

David can feel the skin of his dick being pulled forward and pushed back. Slow at first, then faster. The hand now squeezing his prick a little bit tighter. David feels another hand start to softly caress his nuts. And then two other pairs of fingers delicately trace the hair around his nipples.

David’s breathing is getting faster as he starts to feel lips over top one of his ears. Kissing it gently. The nerves on David’s ear lobe are tingling underneath the weight of very gentle breath and lips.

David’s nipples are beginning to grow sensitive and becoming erect, just like his dick in the main guy’s hand.

“Just think of the ocean,” the main guy says as his breath is nearing David’s mouth and he feels the main guy’s lips over his. David intertwines his lips with the other guy’s. Their tongues sliding over each other.

He feels other pairs of hands lift his arms up a bit and fingers start delicately tickling the hairs under his armpits, causing the skin around them to shiver.

David’s dick is growing quick now as the shaft is gasping over the head, making the slit start to get wet with pre-cum. Hands and lips all over his body. And he finds himself moaning. His stomach beginning to shudder as his penis is starting to throb in through his veins, now, underneath the grip of the main guy’s hand.

“C’mon, David,” the main guy says as he’s still kissing David. “C’mon, baby.” As the small little hairs on his ear lobe are standing on end, reaching up into warm breath and a gentle pair of lips. As his arm pits are shuddering as fingers continue to ever-so-gently tickle them. His entire body is being made to quiver. His legs begin to tremble as semen swells up in his balls still being caressed and screaming out through the shaft. The main guy’s hand continues to go back and forth. Going faster, now. Until his dick can’t take it. Like a squirt gun, it shoots strands of cum into the main guy’s hand. David moans and shudders as his dick continues to jump up in the main guy’s hand.

David leans his head on the main guy’s shoulder as his body shakes. The last strands of semen ooze out of David’s still twitching cock.

“That’s right,” the main guy whispers. “That’s right.”

The slowly pull away from David as the main guy says, “Keep your eyes closed, David.”

David shudders through the last bit of spasms in his dick.

“I’m putting your phone and your wallet in a bag,” the main guy says as he feels several pairs of hands firmly hold his arms and then force them behind his back. He feels what must be hand cuffs go around his wrists.

“Wait, wait, don’t do this,” David says.

“Sh-h-h-h-h, keep those eyes closed, David.”

He hears the cuffs lock around his wrists and then what feels like a string is placed around one of his fingers, must be the bag.

“Guys, wait!” David says.

“Keep those eyes closed for a good minute, David,” he hears the main guy say. He also hears him and his boys walk away.

“Wait! Guys, wait, please!” David says, keeping his eyes closed

He then opens his eyes and looks behind him to see the whole gang run away with every stitch of clothing he had on. And now his meaty, hairy body and dick still dripping semen and firm, full butt bouncing a little from side to side as he quickly paces his legs back and forth is all on full display. And he has no way to cover himself. He has no choice but to walk home with every part of his body fully exposed.
Why So Private, Dick? An Opinion Piece on Joseph Dain and the Slow Emergence of Frontal Nudity in ENM Media

November 16th, 2023

Joseph Dain. If this name doesn’t sound familiar, it should. Let me jog your memory with one memorable scene:

Bullet – 1996

Picture it: two arrogant college-rich kids arrive in the bad part of town to score some drugs. But when they’re forced up to the roof of an apartment building, they’re not taught about the evils of drug use via a resurgence of the D.A.R.E. program. Instead, they’re made to hand over their clothes before their threads star in the latest remake of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’,” as envisioned by the thugs throwing their garments over the roof. What follows is the two naked and embarrassed guys wandering around the building looking for some help. However, they seem to have forgotten that this is a town on the wrong side of the tracks, and people are more suspicious than helpful. So their attempts are in vain, much like D.A.R.E. attempted to try and convince their target audience that “drugs aren’t cool.”

While this part of the film may be a staple in the community of those of us who follow such scenes, and while, yes, even I have gotten off to it a few times, there is one important thing missing. While you do see the two guys’ butts for a while, their fronts are covered by their hands. Not to mention that the camera doesn’t dare go south of the equator unless it’s shielded and covered tighter than the chastity device on Amy Yasbeck’s character in Mel Brook’s “Robin Hood: Men In Tights.”

The aggressor was played by Micky Rourke. A former heartthrob from the ’80s who starred in films like “Diner”, “9 ½ Weeks” and “Angel Heart”. The dark-haired guy was played by Joseph Dain.

From about 2003 to 2004, Joseph Dain would parlay this exposure into a very short-lived portion of his career, where he starred in a few softcore movies involving minimal plots and men wearing minimal to no clothing. Imagine something like 2000’s Voodoo Academy. Except instead of featuring beautiful guys in their jockey shorts, they featured hunks sans jockey shorts.

However, the same can’t be said of Mr. Dain. He decided to carry on his modest status, even in films like this. And, for the longest time, I never understood it. Here, you have this good-looking guy surrounded by a bunch of other hunky, built dudes just letting their ding-dongs flop in the wind, while Dain only goes as far as to show this much:

Let’s take his debut into this foray, shall we?

DAYDREAM OBSESSION – 2003

In the film, Dain plays a character named Clayton. Clayton is secretly obsessed with his best friend, Brian, played by Chris Michaels. Clayton is living with not only Brian but a bunch of other dudes in this bachelor pad scenario. Of course, all the guys look like centerfolds. While pining for Brian, Clayton gets lost in these fantasies where he’s picturing the various men fashioning the suits they were born in.

Here is a breakdown of some of those guys:

We have Julian Cocoa as Raymond. A rent guy Clayton hires to put on a private performance for him while his roommates are away. Raymond then puts on a strip show and bares all.

Then, we have Steven. A neighbor played by Adam Blinn, whom Clayton spies on while he’s washing his car before proceeding to fantasize about said neighbor in the buff.

And then we have Chris Michaels, playing his best friend. Near the end, Clayton can’t take it anymore and wants to make his fantasy a reality. So, he does the reasonable thing and confesses to Brian, and they have a deep, meaningful conversation. Actually, no, no, that’s not what happens. Clayton goes a little psycho, ties him to a chair, and then proceeds to rip his clothes off.

Again, all this male nudity, all this dick flyin’ everywhere, and how much does Dain show of himself? Let’s review:

That’s pretty much it. So, you’re tellin’ me that this actor is starring in a movie where all these other guys are running around the set and revealing everything they’ve got to the camera and, even in one scene, where Dain, himself, is actually tearing the clothes off of one of the actors and we still see his penis, but all we get to see of you, Mr. Dain, is your butt? Oh, bravo, man. How brave you are to wiggle your ass for a few seconds while your co-workers are showing far more.

This wasn’t just a one-time thing, either. Dain continued this imbalance of exposure in two more films: 2004’s Group Therapy and 2004’s sequel to Daydream Obsession, Daydream Obsession 2: Infidelities.

After these films, he left gay softcore erotica and moved on to low-budget horror and TV, according to his list of credits on IMDB. However, his main page on IMDB lists him as “Joe” Dain instead of “Joseph” Dain. And even though his softcore films are included, you’d have to scroll down and expand the “actor” category to see them. They’re nowhere to be found on his main list of films he’s starred in. It’s almost as if he just wants you to forget about them.

But let’s investigate why Joseph, I’m sorry, “Joe” Dain would want to put these movies far, far behind him. Is it because he’s a fuckin’ hypocritical prude who refuses to show much of anything, despite that being the main point of the films he was the main character in? HELL, YES!! But, hey, I’m not bitter.

The other reason is because of Hollywood itself. Only recently has full-frontal male nudity become less taboo, both in film and TV. Film, however, is slower on that front. This is mainly because all the people on the ratings board are hypocritical prudes and are more ready to condemn anything more sexual than they are to anything violent. I highly recommend you watch the 2006 documentary “This Film Is Not Yet Rated” to get more information on that. Not only is it a fun film to see, but it is highly informative and reveals how antiquated and unnecessary the MPAA is in today’s world.

There has been more of a stigma against men showing what they’ve got between their legs than against women. And if “Joe” Dain were to actually go full frontal in these movies, then he may not have been able to proceed into the career he wanted for himself. All because the studios would have likely taken one look at his previous work and said, Oh, it looks like you were involved in gay porn. I’m sorry, but we are cleaner than that here. Okay, let’s get ready for that graphic, bloody death scene. As for you, get out of our sight! You make us SICK!

Maybe it wouldn’t have been that extreme, but, I’m sure, there would have been some bias and prejudice, at least causing some resistance in him moving forward simply by showing his willy.

Even though frontal male nudity is becoming more common, when it has come to ENM scenes in the past, especially ones involving disrobing or being disrobed by force, the penis was still only doing one show a year:

The Heist – 1989 _{^{skip to 23:30}}

Pierce Brosnan plays a man who’s recently been released from prison after serving a four-year sentence for a crime he didn’t commit. In this scene, he lures two goons down on the beach and shows he’s packin’. An actual gun, that is. He makes the two henchmen undress. And when one of them asks, “Keep our shorts on?” Pierce’s character slyly smiles and says, “Please.” We see this time and time again. A guy is running around with not much on, and the other men in the scene are not only trying to shield themselves from seeing anything, but they’re also acting like they need a bucket to vomit in. Because another man’s anatomy is just so offensive and so horrid to look at that it traumatizes them to such a degree that they end up in a mental institution: Poor George over there. Can’t talk, can’t speak. Because he was playing a game of strip Monopoly, and he happened to see a male player’s beef bus swing from the corner of his eye.

At least in this scene, Pierce isn’t that blatant about it. And even when one of the guys says he “can’t swim,” he makes it a point to look directly at the guy’s bikini briefs and respond by saying, “Of course not. You’re a hunter, aren’t you?” I’m not necessarily sure what that means, but I’m certain it’s something snarky and British.

Pierce plays the part with less repulsion and, let’s face it, homophobia as some other actors of the time in scenes similar to this nature. There’s still an underlying shadow of rigidity. Honestly, I think he does the best he can with the material he’s given, and his charm and charisma kind of make it work. And I’m not sure if looking at the dude’s package was improvised or not, but I’d like to think so. If only for the fact that he wanted to play it with a certain level of comfort and shy away from a heteronormative train of thought that was the reality for many films existing in that era. And while there were plenty of homoerotic scenes made in the oblivious attempt to display machismo (I’m looking at you, valley ball scene from 1986’s “Top Gun”) it was still understood that they were only supposed to be shown up to a certain point. Perhaps the two guys showing rear ends after taking off everything may not have been what the director envisioned. But if this were to show frontal nudity of these two muscle-bound bouncers, it probably would have been slapped with an X rating, and there would be no chance of this getting a wide release. The film probably would have been even more obscure had the men bared all, and it wouldn’t have been so easily found on YouTube.

Peaky Blinders

Peaky Blinders was a British series brought to the States and streamed on Amazon. (currently not a part of Prime, though). In this scene, Cillian Murphy makes two men undress for the visual pleasure of a couple of women. While we do get a nice look at their butts, we don’t see any frontal nudity… at all. The camera even stops at the waist.

Okay, first off, this show is British. We’re talking about a country that has a reality show about naked people competing to hook up. So, they have a show like that, but they can’t even show a couple of guys’ dicks in what, from what I understand, is a pretty violent and graphic show? The UK is usually more liberal than that. America may have a history of minimal frontal male nudity on the screen, but I am not sure why Britain would be following suit.

Crown Vic – 2019

Thomas Jane plays an officer who pulls over a guy to get more information from him. While doing so, he has the man perform a strip search in the street. And he doesn’t even let him have his clothes back. It’s a hot scenario, and one that I’ve certainly gone to the self-service station with.
However, as hot as this scene is, I still would have liked to have seen some dong from the guy being made to take his clothes off on a heavily populated city street. However, I have to wonder: if that were the case, would this scene have been made public on ThisVid? As many of you know, while ThisVid is a great resource for ENM and even has quite a few scenes with frontal nudity, it’s also notorious for the majority of those scenes being under lock and key, and whether you see them depends on whether the person that has that scene in their collection allows you access. I’ve found that that’s kind of a 50/50 shot.
The actor that is being made to strip is played by Devon Werkheiser, who got his big break on the Nickelodeon show Ned’s Declassified School Survival Guide. Maybe it was his choice not to go full frontal because this was how he got started. And, again, what does that say about our culture? That a man being seen fully from the front could do damage to his career? Why should it be? Wouldn’t it show dedication to the scene? Be more authentic?

However, today, directors are actually taking more chances. In addition to queer storylines being put to the forefront, when it comes to ENM, the penis has been upgraded to a guest-starring role in more works. There’s a liberation starting to happen:

Westworld – 2016-2022

Thandiwe Newton plays one of the robots that’s been gaining more sentience in a futuristic park. In this scene, amidst a rebellion of the robots, she makes one of the developers, played by Simon Quarterman, strip completely naked, and you see Simon’s uncircumcised penis flop around for a few seconds.

The Righteous Gemstones – Season 1, Episode 3

A group of thugs are hired to come in and start tearin’ shit up to send a message to Eli Gemstone, played by John Goodman. However, Eli puts a stop to it with his handy gun and decides to send the person who hired these goons a message of his own. So he forces all of them to strip everything off.

While this scene does show some dick, I have to admit, I really would have liked to see some dick from the hot, beefy redhead.

From how John Goodman is playing it, I can totally picture him saying something like, Got something to hide? You weren’t too shy about tearin’ through this place. C’mon, let’s see how much of a man you all are. You’re all big and tough? Why don’t you take those hands away and show us how proud and brave you are?

But, alas, he doesn’t. I, personally, think it would fit the scene more, especially a scene like this brimming with bravado that is nearly devoid of any kind of homophobic or heteronormative subtext. If these men are made to take everything off, then we should be seeing them made to show everything off. Perhaps the ginger-haired actor in this scene didn’t want to go full frontal, but how often do you think women were given the same choice in the past? Times may be changing, but there have been decades and decades of imbalance between male and female nudity to make up for.

And while we have made progress, we still get scenes like this:

Macgruber – 2021-present

The very hot and very hairy Will Forte is forced to strip completely naked by a group of mysterious kidnappers hiding behind the booming speakers from inside a tank. The scene is pretty nice, and it’s another one I’ve certainly enjoyed in the past. However, when it comes to seeing Mr. Forte from the front, this is the best we get:

That is so far away that I don’t even think Tumblr would consider this nudity. And why is the scene like this? Well, perhaps the answer lies in a comment made by Will Forte’s character: “C’mon, guys, it’s really cold out here!” Sure enough, everyone looks at Will’s willy as if investigating the deep, philosophical answer to life’s big questions.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a little tired of this. The ol’ his-dick-is-so-small-it’s-not-even-considered-fun-size joke as a reason to not show a dick in full display and close enough to appreciate it. I know that there are people out there who get off on the humiliation of small penises, or SPH, but I don’t consider myself one of them. With that said, I’m sure even an SPH fan would have wanted to see what Will Forte had to show off, and not from FIFTEEN THOUSAND GOD-DAMN LIGHT YEARS AWAY! This may be a fetish, but I don’t think that’s why this scene was made. I think that this is a layover from the more restrictive days of TV. Using a guy’s size to demean him and make him feel less than, and I, for one, would rather that be a relic kept in the past (aside from when it is a fetish and made for the sole purpose of satisfying that, I don’t kink shame). In addition to the fact that there’s this misogynistic intensity fused deep into the fabric of the thought process behind scenes like this. How often is there that joke made where a guy gets a magnum-sized condom to overcompensate? God forbid anyone to doubt your manliness and masculinity. Because you’re a BIG MAN! Others shall cower at the sheer veracity, power, and strength of your throbbing piece of man meat. We should all be bowing to you and admiring such virility in the epitomes of masculinity. And while this probably wasn’t what the director had in mind, it most likely is a joke that has its roots in such troubling groundwork.

For an example of a piece of media that’s a little more brave, we have to go all the way to France:

Nu – 2018-present

Satya Dusaugey is certainly no stranger to frontal nudity, as he previously displayed in 2016’s Tapette. Nu is a series about a police officer who wakes up from a coma and finds that societal standards about the body have changed. The law has made it so that, now, if you are clothed and covering up your private parts, it is considered indecent. Because of the culture shock, Satya’s character endures due to this sudden pride in nudism and exhibitionism now being an integral part of society, he inevitably ends up in quite a few ENM scenarios. And unlike other works of media that involve a scene where a man’s nudity is brought up in humiliating ways, they made this pretty much the entire premise of the show. Not only that, but they managed to work in some pretty complex emotions and even make it go deeper than just, well, skin deep. And Dusaugey, it seems, is not shy when it comes to his work. He plays the part to perfection. Because of his unabashed nature, we get many, many, maaaaany scenes where Satya’s completely on display and has no qualms about acting in such exposing conditions. This kind of show probably wouldn’t fly here in the States, even on streaming platforms like Netflix or Amazon, where actors like Nick Clifford have gone full frontal. While male nudity is getting there, I don’t think the American streaming services may be ready for a show so matter-of-fact about the male genitalia.

As I said before, with platforms like ThisVid, the availability of ENM scenes involving frontal nudity being limited to private videos and a community that’s split on the level of access to such media far outweighs the easily available videos you can find where a man is in a situation where his clothes are taken away and you see everything.

This video, for example, which I only know by the title:

Bearded Hunk Can’t Keep His Clothes On

In this comedic short, a rather attractive man lives in a house that’s haunted. But it’s not haunted by any ghost. It’s a ghost that randomly undresses him. The film work is inventive in how the guy’s shirt opens up and his fly is unzipped, seen from accurate angles to give the appearance that his clothing is being removed by an invisible force.

This is an online video that I never really got into. I’m sure others will find it hot, but, as for me, it just pisses me off. Apologies to the actor here; he put a lot of effort and work into this short, and it shows. But for a video with such an inventive and sexy premise and this kind of talent behind the camera, there should be more of a pay-off, I think. You see, this ghost doesn’t necessarily understand the concept of “naked.” It always stops at his undershirt and underwear. We don’t even get to see his undershirt being removed. So, basically, he’s dressed down to the point that he might as well be sporting a shirt and form-fitting shorts. Why aren’t we seeing everything? Why isn’t this unique and creative camera work being used to go further??

However, let’s say it did go further. Let’s say it not only stripped this nice-looking guy to nothing but forced his hands in place, and we actually see his dick swingin’. Would this actually be a public video? Would it be so easily found?

Let me answer that with a previous search I’ve done in the past. When I’m online and I go to just Google or Bing and look up “men forced to strip,” I do find scenes, but they’re often scenarios and snippets either made for commercial networks where it’s played safe or where it’s just shy of seeing everything. But, in this same search, results of ENF, or embarrassed nude females, are mixed in. I didn’t click on them because, well, quite frankly, I didn’t want to, but I can tell from the titles and from the look of the images that it’s fetish porn. And I can guarantee you that you see everything of these women.

So, in this same search where I’m looking for men, the results of frontal nudity are a rare gem to find. Yet, when it comes to women, there are actually more examples of forced exposure of frontal nudity, despite the fact that I just told the search engine that that wasn’t what I was looking for.

A change is indeed happening. I’m seeing all around us that, as a society, we are getting tired of such an imbalance in the display of the female body compared to the male body. HBO, Amazon, Netflix, Hulu, and Shudder are all services with original works that include full-frontal male nudity. But when it comes to the fetish of ENM, that’s still proving slightly more difficult to find. For the most part, a good number of them are still hiding behind the velvet rope of privacy functions and subscription-based platforms. And, ya know what? I get it. If you’re a filmmaker, a creator who’s spent money on resources to make and create such works, then, yeah, I believe you should have a profit. If you put in the work, you should have a financial benefit. But I also believe that if our ENM community had more creators who started making film projects with full plots and stories and resources to make a professional film that has fewer boundaries when it comes to male exposure, then who knows? It may have a snowball effect, and we can find ourselves in a place where these search results of fetish erotica actually have what we’re looking for instead of the equivalent of having someone dig through the bargain basement bin and say, “Sorry, this is all we’ve got.” It’s been the norm for women to be used as visual mediums of sexual expression pretty much ever since the first film near the beginning of the 20th century. That’s still a standard and a basis of thought that has been sewn into the fabric of our cultural cornerstones, and it may be a while before we can move even further past that.

In fact, I have an idea for a future article where I’d like to list the stories I’ve written in the past that I would love to make into films. So, I’m getting the message out there. It’s like that expression goes: Be the change you want to see.

Advances towards this movement may have started, but let’s keep this train goin’. C’mon, filmmakers and show-runners, if you’re going to have embarrassing nude scenes of men in your work, especially ones where they’re forced to remove clothing or have clothing forcibly removed from them, let’s see it all. Dick Tracy may be private in his investigations, but dick, itself shouldn’t be concealed in evidence.
Brendan’s Naked Analysis

February 5th, 2023

Two weeks!” Gerald yells at the plumber, Brendon, who was hired to fix his shower head. “I have to wait two weeks!”

“Look, sir, it’s a very specific model.

Brendon gets a text and looks at his phone.

“You fuckin’ use it, then!”

Brendon sighs as he looks at the phone, not responding to Gerald. He sees it’s from his boss.

Why are you arguing with Gerald Westfield!? He’s not only one of our prominent clients, but also an investor! We actually have the part you’re speaking of! Just do whatever he wants. If he says jump, you say how high! We expect you back here to get the part you need. If you fuck this up, believe me, no one in this business will hire you again! Everyone knows who he is, you dumb fuck!

A chill runs through Brendon.

“Look, sir, I___”

“Don’t you DARE apologize to me. Go and use my fuckin’ shower head!”

“We’ve got the part,” the plumber quickly explains.

“Great, I’ll get it from one of your competitors!”

“You, you don’t have to do that,” Brendan quickly says.

Gerald backs his head up and cocks it to the side. He smiles, devilishly and says, “Okay, I’ll get it from you and give your boss rave reviews about you.”

Brendan smiles and nods his head as he feels relieved.

“Provided you do one thing for me.”

Brendan looks up and says, “What.”

“Like I said, I wanna test it one more time. Go in the bathroom.”

“Look, Mr. Westfield….”

“Go in my bathroom, NOW!”

Brendan flinches as he walks into the bathroom, quickly followed by Gerald.

Once in the bathroom, he sees Gerald put his phone in the compartment usually meant for soap on the other end of the shower, facing the shower head. Brendan remembers how he said it was waterproof.

Gerald walks back over to face Brendan. He nods his head to the shower while saying, “Okay, take your clothes off and get in.”

“What?” Brendan says, nervously laughing while holding himself a little.

“You don’t take a shower with your clothes on.” He throws his hand up to Brendan. “Take ’em off.”

Brendan gives Gerald this are-you-serious look.

“I could always call your boss.”

Brendan sighs again while starting to take his shoes off.

“And hurry up, I got important things to do.”

Brendan then slides his socks off. He gets back up and quickly runs his fingers down the buttons of his shirt. Shaking with nerves all the way. He pulls his shirt open and out of his pants, then slides it down his shoulders and off his arms. He can barely grasp the button on his pants he’s shaking so bad.

“Okay, I’m calling your boss,” Gerald says as he’s about to reach for his phone.

Brendan then grabs hold of his pants and tears open his button and zipper and quickly pulls his jeans down his legs. He steps out of them, almost tripping on them. He’s about to step into the shower when Gerald says, “Really, you shower with your underwear on? Take those off, too.”

Brendan almost protests, but then remembering what his boss said. He puts his hands on both sides of his briefs. He pushes the waist band down into the middle of his hands and then pulls his last article of clothing down. He stands back, his buttocks exposed to Gerald. With his hands covering his crotch, he steps into the shower.

“Buddy,” Gerald says, putting his thumb and index finger to his head, looking restless. “You are testing the shower head and you are an established plumber. Because of that, I need you to face the phone, for a second, while I state who you are.”

Brendan turns around, looking unsure if he should. While still covering up his penis, he faces the camera on his phone.

“Hands on your head,” Gerald says.

Brendan arches his eyebrow and turns to face Gerald. “Why?”

“Your job, here is not to ask questions,” Gerald says. “If you want an answer, then it’s because I’m Gerald fucking Westlake and I could make sure no one hires you again, understood?”

Brendan nods while he swallows a small piece of air.

“Good, now face the camera, and put your hands on your head.”

Brendan looks towards the phone and lifts up his hands and places them on the back of his head. His eyes expand while the right side of his mouth trembles upward, having no choice but to show his penis as it quivers with the rest of his fully exposed body.

Gerald begins, “This is Gerald Westlake. This plumber said I needed to wait two weeks for a new shower head. We’re about to test it….”
Zed’s Not-So-Free Ride

February 5th, 2023

“You think it’s funny taking other people’s property!?” the angry college student yells at Zed as he places the bike back against the pole.

Zed is laughing nervously, and honestly thought the bike was his. He thought it strange that it had no lock. But then saw his bike across the street just as the angry guy was running up to him.

Zed puts his hands up and is about to explain. He’s got his mouth open and is ready to speak when he hears another voice behind him.

“Why the fuck were about to go off with my friend’s bike, man!?”

Zed turns around and sees a group of guys approaching him. He doesn’t have much time to set things right.

“Look, gentleman,” he quickly says, “I thought it was mine.”

“Oh, you thought it was YOURS, huh!?” another guy in the group says.

They now have him surrounded.

“Look,” he turns to each one, “I, I’m sorr___”

“Can you believe this shit?” One of them says. “Thinkin’ that it was his? You believe that, bro?”

“I, I really thought…” Zed’s voice is shaky as he fumbles his hand outward to try and further explain.

“Maybe he’s right,” one of the group says.

“Yeah, maybe he is,” another one says.

This is interspersed with Zed trying to say something, anything, to make the situation better. But all that comes out is pieces of his voice as he keeps getting interrupted.

“Yeah. Since he thinks the bike is his,” the guy that was running up to him says, “maybe he’s got something that belongs to one of us.”

Zed looks back and forth between them. His eyes looking more desperate. His voice more anxious to speak.

“Yeah,” one of the other guys says as four from the group are getting closer.

It’s now or never, Zed has to say something.

As he starts speaking while saying, “Look, guys…”

Zed is still trying to explain himself as the four guys from the group grab hold of his arms and legs so he has as little movement as possible.

Zed is still trying to explain, words running quickly off of the fumbling curves of his tongue, but they’re not listening.

While they’ve still got him held in place, one of the other guys comes up to him and says, “Yeah, well, maybe I think this SHIRT is mine!”

As the guy says the word “shirt,” he uses both hands to grab hold of Zed’s collar and pulls his hands down in opposite directions. His body is thrust downward as the shirt quickly rips open. Splitting a quick tear all the way down to the bottom. As the man is angrily clawing at the sleeves, the fabric severing open beneath his grasping fingers, another person on the group comes to him from behind and reaches around his waist.

“And maybe we think these shorts are ours!”

Zed has no belt on, so the guy’s hands just blindly feels around on his shorts until they find the button. Then, as he’s unbuttoning the shorts and pulling the zipper down, the other guy tears the last few remaining strands of his shirt off. The fabric pulling from between his back and the backpack he has on.

Once the zipper’s down, his shorts are yanked down so hard that the skin on his legs giggle slightly while his butt bounces from beneath his underwear along with his still-covered penis.

They hold his legs up one at a time as they slide the shorts on the ground. Taking them away from him.

“Look,” Zed says breathlessly, looking around like a trapped animal, “You really don’t have to do this. It was a mistake.”

They collectively look amongst themselves and it appears an agreement has been reached. To Zed’s relief, the guys holding him in place let him go.

He smiles and crosses his arms over his bare chest and stands there with his back pack on and in his underwear.

“C-Can I have my shorts back?” Zed says.

No response, they just look at him. Zed nervously looks around and his instinct is to run.

“Dude, take the bike,” the original guy that approached him says.

“Mine is over there,” Zed quickly says as he darts in the other direction.

Zed’s heart jumps up in his chest when two of the guys grab hold of him again and walk him back to their friend’s bike. “Take it, man,” one of them says in this overly sweet, obviously fake voice.

“Yeah, you said you thought it was yours, so take it.”

He starts shaking his head no, but then sees all these college guys looking at him. They’re all eyeing him sternly, concentrating a hard stare that is practically shooting daggers at Zed.

“O-okay.” Zed agrees. At least he’ll have a way out of this situation.

“Except,” one of the guys says, approaching him.

Zed’s breath almost comes to a stop as he feels hands, again, grasping around his arms and legs. People have gathered, watching this situation unfold. “We just need one more thing which we,” the guy places his hand against his own chest, “Think is ours.”

Zed turns his head to the side. His eyes go wide and a gasp punches a hole in the back of his throat as it happens. A pair of hands are slapped either side of his underwear and then he feels his briefs quickly lowered, being pulled all the way down to his shoes. His now bare ass bounces while his exposed dick flops upward. They have him step out of it.

“Go on, get on,” they then say as they push him to the bike.

He puts one hand over his dick and nervously gets on.

He’s trying to balance himself with one hand as he rides off with not only the angry young college men looking at him, but many other people as well.

“If you’re going to ride like that,” one of them says as two come running up to him. They stop the bike from moving forward by putting their hands on the handlebars. One of them looks straight at Zed.

Zed looks back him as his eyes move slightly back and forth, afraid to fully look this guy in the face.

His eyes stay steely on Zed as he calmly places a hand on Zed’s hand covering his dick. He firms up his grip and then forces his hand up and out, revealing what he’s been trying to hide.

“Have an arm out for balance.”

He then leans in close to Zed’s ear and whispers, “Oh, and, ughhh, I called some friends, put the word out about you. They’re gonna watch to make sure you … get home safe.”

Zed gulps.

“And,” he leans in closer and lowers his voice to a hushed baritone, “if they see that you try to cover yourself in any way, we’re gonna not only report you but makes things a little more… difficult for you.”

The other person beside him coldly laughs.

The guy holding his arm pats him on the back and adds, “So, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll make sure that dick of yours is flapping in the breeze and everyone gets a goooood fuckin’ look at it. Do I make myself clear?”

Zed nervously nods his head.

They let him go as he rides off, one hand out while the other is on his handlebar. His manhood bobbing in different directions as continues to use his legs to peddle the bike forward.
Dusty’s Dance

January 29th, 2023

The spotlight lands right on Dusty. He has to put his hand in front of his face and squint.

“Hello, sir,” the DJ says.

Currently, Dusty is at a wedding. It’s not even his wedding. Hell, he doesn’t even know anyone here. He’s actually just the sound guy and was calmly minding his own business sitting at this table, enjoying a drink. Right now, he doesn’t know what’s going on or why this fucking spotlight is in his face, but he can feel everyone turning their attention to him.

There’s a small speck of nervousness that drifts up through his thoughts.

“Umm, he-hello?” Dusty manages to say.

“Why don’t you come up here?”

Even through all the light flooding through his fingers, he can still see the DJ has his hand directed toward the center of the stage.
Dusty wants no part of this. “I’m, I’m good, thanks.”

Suddenly, his phone vibrates. He takes it out of his pocket and looks at the text. It’s from his boss: Get the fuck up there. These people are paying us good money. We do whatever they want.

Dusty sighs and gets up out of the chair and walks up right to where the DJ is pointing, which has an iron pole installed in place.

“What’s your name, my friend?” the DJ asks, his voice booming through the system that Dusty set up.

He doesn’t want to give it, but with his boss’s words in his mind, he says, “Dusty.”

“Well, as you can see, Dusty, the spotlight landed on you.”

He hears some laughter, but also some women and men going Wooo! Yeah! UH-HUH! The phrases almost sound like cat calls.

“Okay, you know the rules, Dusty. Why don’t you put on a show for us?”
Rules? What rules is he talking about? Music starts up. Dusty hears a series of words and being thrown at him. They’re all collected into this mindless soup, which sends his mind into a twirling blender. But then, he hears three words spoken from the back corner that suddenly puts this all together: “TAKE IT OFF!”

Dusty laughs a little. But his heart still jumps up. There’s still an apprehensive lilt at the base of his voice. And his expression has a shadow of pensiveness. But, he’s a good sport. He starts curving his torso back and forth.

“WOO!”

“Yeah, baby!”

He smiles, kind of loving the attention. He gets into a groove and his backside begins to make a circling motion that moves into his legs with this comical seduction.

He then crosses his arms down and curves his fingers around the bottom of his horizontally black-and-white striped shirt he has on. He holds his hands there while grasping the bottom of the fabric tighter. Really teasing the audience. They respond with a humorous frustration. He can even hear some of the guys saying, “Stop teasing us, bro!”

He slowly moves his hands up above the button on his jeans, just to the point where you can see his gyrating stomach. The skin is mostly smooth with a kissed tan. He lowers the shirt back down and even stretches it downward. He cups his hand to his ear while making this expectant expression.

“C’mon, man!”

“Let’s see it!”

He lifts his shirt up again. This time, higher, showing more of his stomach up to the bottom of his chest.

There are claps and hollers and growing impatience that begins to take presence in the people’s voices and expressions.

Dusty suddenly and quickly pulls the shirt up. The fabric brushing up against his face and running through his hair. He slides it off one arm and puts his arms back down while still holding the shirt in his other hand.

He shakes his chest while motioning his fingers back and forth with a c’mon kind of look in both his expression and in how he presence his body.

Listening to the crowd, while still holding his shirt, he places his hands on his stomach and starts sliding them down. As he does this, he contours the bottom half of his body forward. Softly thrusting his package.

“YEAH!”

“Keep going!”

He undoes the button on his jeans. They expand open. The spotlight on him really highlights the top of the gray underwear he has on underneath. The hand holding his shirt floats up to his zipper. Slowly, he lifts it up and pulls. The teeth unbind and more of the gray underwear is seen. When the zipper can’t go anymore, he lets go. He gives a big smile, throws his hands up and bows. There are some boos.
Dusty stands back up and puts his hands to his hips. He shakes his head no.

Just before he moves his hands off his waist, he’s bumped forward. As that’s happening, he feels the shirt he’s been holding onto stretching in his grasp and it’s suddenly whipped out of his hand. He feels someone else’s hand on the side of his jeans.

A shock jumps up through his system as a cold chill sparks his lungs. He can’t let this happen. That’s when he notices his boss out of the corner of his eye, shaking both his head and his finger. Shit.

The hand starts pulling and both his jeans and underwear are torn down in a diagonal fashion. The tan line of his inner thigh peaks up through the bunched-up material.

He still has his hands to his hips and wears this cocky smile on his face. It’s only a slight uplift in his lips while his cheeks round themselves a little forward. He’s trying to appear like he’s playing along as much as possible. But inside, his heart is beating faster and his nerves shudder at the very feel of air touching exposed skin.

Then, with one good yank, the hand whips both his jeans and underwear halfway down his legs. He feels his pubic hair bloom out while his uncut penis flops upward and lands on his trembling nuts. He really wants to cover up, but he can still see his boss out of the side of his face, giving him this scolding stare.

He still has his hands on his waist, still wearing this knowing smile. But in his head, he’s already making plans to look for another job. In the meantime, though, his stomach is sinking as he almost clenches his bare ass.

“I don’t know, folks. Maybe he should stay like that for tonight?” the DJ says, half jokingly, half serious. “What do y’all think?”

He hears cheers and more hoots and hollers.

God, he really hopes the DJ is kidding.