Stripped and Humiliated in Public: A Real-Life Experience

Strip-Humiliation Real Life Experiment

This dare was a total set up, but not for me, but for strangers in public, to test and see how regular women and men would react to seeing a stripped and humiliated male. It would be late at night, in a fair-to-OK neighborhood in the Los Angeles suburbs. The LA Basin is made up a lot of small cities with their own little downtowns: Torrance, Santa Monica, Compton, Paramount, Lomita, Carson, El Segundo, and so on. The male was me, of course.

The rules were simple. I’d be in just underwear, socks, and shoes, acting normal, but embarrassed. My story would be that my friends had played a prank on me, stripping me and making me survive for one hour on the street in just tighty whities, shoes and socks. I would not be allowed to ask for clothes, or money, or any help at all beyond asking for directions and what time it was. I couldn’t look like a criminal or victim of a crime. I am a good looking, middle aged, slender white male with a short haircut and polite manner, clearly not impaired by drugs or booze. The kind of fellow whose plight was designed to bring out pity and empathy ... or whatever.

(Two previous shots at this dare failed to get any response, One night I ventured out in a polo shirt but no pants on, just full-cut white boxer shorts. Some drunks laughed and sympathized, suggesting that I had lost my pants to a prostitute or in a bad dating experience. Similarly, colorful boxer briefs got no reaction—I think because they look too much like regular casualwear. So, the obvious option was to throw me out there in the most classic embarrassing underpants. Specifically, 32”-waist white Covingtons, a department store brand of briefs with two stripes on the waistband and a keyhole fly as opposed the Y-front made famous by Jockeys and UK makers of briefs.)

So here is the factual story as it happened, with a few details changed to protect the exact location, the innocent and the guilty.

Using alleys, like any stripped and humiliated guy would do, I emerged on the edge of downtown on Flower Street, a major thoroughfare near a filling station and liquor store. A guy driving by saw me and shouted, “Hey! What happened to your pants?” “It’s a long story.” (True enough.) “I want to take your picture!” He produced a cell phone and pointed it at me. “Please don’t!” I said. “Are you kidding?” he answered. “It’s like getting a tip in Las Vegas.”

To this day, I don’t know what he meant by that. 

I retreated back to the alleys, with barely 15 minutes into my hour of the public strip humiliation dare. What a high fear factor, being out there after midnight in nothing but my underpants! I saw a street corner with about 10 young men and women smoking cigarettes standing there. I crossed the street as if avoiding them then crossed again in their direction, with an alley to my left to escape but one of their young men was too fast and intercepted me.

“Hey man, are you in trouble? Where are your clothes?” he asked.

I explained that I wasn’t in super deep trouble, except for my buddies had got mad at me and decided to strip me and say Come back in an hour, nerd, and maybe we will give you some of your stuff. 

A big smile spread over his face and he walked me over to his friends. They were smoking and vaping and may have been getting bored, judging by how suddenly they were all surrounding me and grinning.

“My buddies stripped me and told me to get lost for an hour. The problem is, they took my wallet, keys, everything along with my clothes! Even my watch and cellphone. It’s after midnight and I have until 12:30 to meet them at Main Street and Landsberg to get my stuff back! But they took my watch! Do you know the time?”

He looked at his watch and said, “Dude, it’s 12:25, you have five minutes.”

“What? Yikes! Which way is Main and Landsberg—quick!”

They were falling all over themselves laughing, nudging one another, and pointing all over the place. I knew the answer: two blocks west, and one block south would get me there in two minutes.

The guy who first intercepted me shot a look at his buddies to shut up, and placing a hand on my bare shoulder, pointed east and advised me in all sincerity: “Keep going straight for four blocks and then turn left. It’ll be three or four blocks to Landsberg.”

None of them could keep a straight face at these ridiculous directions which would send me almost half a mile in the wrong direction. It wasn’t enough that they got to see a guy publicly humiliated in his underwear, and lost and confused on top of that. Their immediate instinct was to humiliate this perfect stranger even more!

“If you get to Beechwood Boulevard, you’ve gone too far,” one guy said.

That was a nice touch of ridiculousness. There is no street by that name anywhere near here.

“Thanks guys, really, I’m sorry you had to see me this way.” I hitched up the waistband of my briefs and walked away in the stupid direction they had sent me.

“No worries, sir, you look really cute in your tighty-whities,” called one of the women. Before I got to the end of the block, I heard them finally all burst out laughing. They couldn’t hold it in any longer.

It’s just one experiment, but it really struck me. A bunch of people saw a stripped and humiliated idiot stranded in his embarrassing white briefs, and their reaction was to conspire to fool me just for fun, and humiliate me even more! Pretty cool, I think.