r/ENM_embarrasednudemen

I like the idea of having the dynamic where you just show off and do funny things for me even though we just friends, dm if interested

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

The young college professor stood at the large wooden lectern in the auditorium, his freshly printed lecture notes spread out before him. He had arrived almost an hour early, determined to make everything perfect for his very first class: Anatomy 101.

He was still adjusting to the idea that he was no longer a student himself. Though he looked barely older than the undergraduates who would soon fill the seats, he was determined to project authority and competence. A crisp button-down shirt, neatly pressed trousers, and polished shoes completed the professional look he hoped would command respect. He kept running through his opening lines, underlining key points and scribbling small margin notes. His heart beat a little faster than usual—nerves, of course—but he told himself it was natural. This was important. He wanted them to take him seriously from the very first minute.

He was so absorbed in his notes that he barely registered the soft sound of footsteps behind him. A firm hand suddenly landed on his shoulder, making him jump.

Must be an eager student, he thought, already turning with a polite but professional smile. “I’m sorry, the lecture doesn’t start for another hour. If you’re looking to switch classes, you’ll need to speak with administration—”

The words died in his throat.

Behind him stood not one student, but a group of muscular young men in their mid-twenties. Dressed casually but moving with quiet confidence, they had fanned out slightly, blocking the easy escape routes down the steps on either side of the stage. Their expressions were calm, almost amused. One of them, standing directly in front of him, leaned in closer.

“Somebody’s getting naked!”

The cheerful tone of the familiar phrase hit him like a slap. For a split second he simply stared, his mind refusing to process what he was seeing. Then realization crashed over him with sickening clarity.

He was the strip gang’s next victim.

Before he could even think of bolting or shouting for help, strong hands seized his arms from both sides. The gang moved with practiced efficiency, dragging him backward behind the large pull-down projector screen that stretched from the ceiling to the stage floor. The heavy fabric swung slightly as they disappeared behind it, shielding them from the empty auditorium.

A knife flashed dangerously close to his face, the blade catching the dim stage lights.

“Don’t try anything stupid,” one of them hissed, voice low and firm. “Do as you’re told and you’ll be fine.”

The professor’s heart hammered wildly in his chest. He knew exactly who they were. He had read the stories and watched the videos on social media. And now it was happening to him—on his very first day, in the very room where he was supposed to establish himself as a respected teacher.

They stripped him with ruthless speed. His carefully chosen shirt was yanked open, buttons scattering across the floor. Trousers and underwear were pulled down together in one rough motion. Shoes and socks followed. In less than a minute, he stood completely naked behind the screen. The cool auditorium air raised goosebumps across his newly exposed skin. His face burned with humiliation. Even though the thick fabric hid him from view, the sheer vulnerability of being stark naked in this professional space made his stomach twist. This was supposed to be his auditorium. His first lecture. Instead, he was bare, trembling, and utterly at their mercy.

And he knew this was only the beginning.

One of the gang members wheeled out a bar stool from the side of the stage. Mounted on its seat was a thick butt plug. The professor’s eyes widened in panic as they bent him forward over the stool. He felt cold, sticky lube slathered over his virgin hole, a finger roughly working it inside him.

“No—wait—” he gasped.

They lifted him effortlessly. The blunt head of the plug pressed against his entrance. He tried to clench and resist, but a knife suddenly appeared again—scarily close to his soft cock and balls. The message was unmistakable. With a broken whimper, he stopped fighting. They lowered him slowly onto the stool.

The massive plug stretched him open, filling his virgin ass inch by inch until he was fully seated, impaled and gasping. Strong hands quickly secured him—wrists zip-tied to the sides of the stool, ankles fastened to the legs, and a thick strap across his waist. He was completely immobilized, naked and trapped on the podium behind the screen.

Then the plug began to buzz.

A deep, powerful vibration surged to life inside him, pressing relentlessly against his prostate. The unfamiliar, intense sensation tore a choked moan from his throat. Despite the terror and humiliation, his cock surged to full hardness almost instantly, standing rigid and throbbing in the cool air.

That was when the real teasing started.

Hands were suddenly everywhere. Rough palms stroked his chest, pinched and twisted his nipples, ran down his sides and along his inner thighs. Fingers teased his balls and tickled the sensitive skin behind them. Finally, a well-lubed hand wrapped firmly around his aching cock and began to stroke with slow, expert precision.

The edging was merciless and unrelenting.

They brought him right to the edge again and again—stroking faster, squeezing just right, letting the buzzing plug work his prostate—only to stop completely the moment his breathing turned ragged and his hips tried to buck. Each denial left him whimpering and desperate. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. His mind melted into a hazy fog of pure arousal. All rational thought vanished. The lecture notes, the incoming students, his career—none of it mattered anymore. If they had demanded he teach the entire semester stark naked on this stool, he would have agreed without hesitation, just for the chance to finally cum.

The constant cycle of building pleasure and cruel denial continued. His cock leaked steadily, his body trembled, and sweat rolled down his bare skin.

“Please,” he repeatedly begged. “Please, let me cum.”

Through the thick, desperate haze clouding his mind, the professor gradually became aware of new sounds filtering in from the other side of the screen: footsteps, voices, the growing rustle and murmur of students filling the auditorium seats. His first class was arriving.

He opened his mouth to shout for help, but a thick ball gag was instantly forced between his lips and buckled tightly behind his head. All that escaped was a muffled, humiliated grunt.

A calm, friendly voice rang out from the podium area. “Hi everyone, I’m a student assistant for the professor. He’s running a little late—caught up in a faculty meeting—but he should be here any minute. In the meantime, he’s asked me to show you this introduction video for Anatomy 101.”

The lights dimmed. The large screen in front of him began to glow as the projector started. At first it was perfectly ordinary: welcome messages, course objectives, required textbooks. Then the content shifted. The narration turned clinical yet increasingly graphic, describing male reproductive anatomy in explicit detail—the blood flow to the penis during arousal, the role of the prostate, the mechanics of ejaculation. Diagrams appeared. Close-ups.

The professor’s face burned with shame as he sat there, naked and impaled, his own throbbing erection twitching in time with the lecture material.

Suddenly the video voice announced cheerfully, “And now the professor himself will give a live demonstration.”

The buzzing in his ass surged to brutal, full-power intensity. At the same moment, a hand grabbed his leaking cock and pumped it with several fast, merciless strokes. Then, just as quickly, every member of the gang vanished from behind the screen.

With a mechanical whir, the massive projector screen began to rise.

A bright spotlight snapped on, flooding the podium with harsh light and illuminating every inch of the professor’s naked, sweat-slicked body. He sat strapped to the stool, legs spread, the thick plug buried deep inside him, his rock-hard cock jutting upward and dripping steadily.

For one stunned second, the entire auditorium fell deathly silent.

Then the professor’s body betrayed him completely. The overwhelming vibrations, the built-up desperation, and the sheer catastrophic humiliation pushed him over the edge. He came harder than he ever had in his life. A raw, muffled roar tore from behind the gag as his cock erupted in powerful, rhythmic jets. Thick ropes of cum arced through the air and splattered across the stage in front of him. His whole body convulsed against the restraints, hips jerking uselessly as the orgasm tore through him.

The room exploded.

Cheers, laughter, gasps, and shocked screams filled the auditorium. Phones shot up everywhere, flashes popping, videos recording his public, spurting climax. The noise was deafening.

“It’s the strip gang!” someone finally yelled. “Call the police!”

But no one moved to clear the auditorium. The students stayed glued to their seats, whispering and filming as the professor remained helplessly on display. The plug continued buzzing at maximum speed. Over the next twenty agonizing minutes, while they waited for the police, he came twice more—shuddering, whimpering, helpless orgasms that only added to the growing collection of videos spreading across campus.

When the police finally arrived and freed him, they draped a small, inadequate blanket over his shoulders. It barely covered his cum-streaked torso and still-sensitive cock. In that state, he was escorted through the lingering crowd and marched straight to the dean’s office.

The dean stared at him for a long moment, then chuckled awkwardly.

“Well,” he said with a weak smile, “you’re supposed to picture the audience naked… not get naked yourself.”

The professor, still trembling under the tiny blanket, said nothing. All he could think about was the hundreds of eyes that had just watched him cum like a fountain on his very first day—and the fact that he would have to walk back into that same auditorium and face those same students again in just a few days.

My dad developed my embarrassment kink and it is linked with a specific moment from past. What do u think about what he has done?:)))

I was with my dad… we were leaving school and going home, and in the park I needed to pee, so he took me behind a bush. But he pulled down my pants and underwear and held me by the legs, lifting me up in the air (the way u hold a girl to pee), with my back against his stomach. He was crouched down. Then some guys walked by on the path behind the bush… So I couldn’t even pee anymore from embarrassment.😭🥹

So when I was in college, I was in a play with a bunch of my friends. I shared a dressing room with my friend Danny. While we were changing, I couldn’t help but notice the bulge in Danny’s boxer briefs. It was huge. Like easily the size of mine hard if not bigger. I looked away real quick when I saw Danny had caught me staring and I went on to change. As soon as I dropped my pants and was standing there in my tighty whiteys, I heard Danny sort of chuckle, but I didn’t think anything of it.

Fast forward to closing night of the play. We just finished our last show, and Danny and my other friends Christian and Nick ask to get a photo with me. I get in the middle and wrap my arms around Danny and Nick while Christian stands behind us. Just as the photo is getting taken, I feel my pants and briefs whoosh down to my ankles, and all three friends and the guy taking the photo burst out laughing. Jake, the guy that took the photo, says “you guys have got to see this” and shows us the photo of me smiling with my 1 inch nub clearly on display right after Christian pantsed me. Danny then told them “I told you guys it had to be tiny! He had nothing in those tighty whiteys!” And they start laughing harder. After 10 minutes of begging, I finally got them to delete the photo, but the damage was already done. My cheeks burned bright red the rest of the semester anytime they brought it up again

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

He sat alone at the high-top table, nursing a warm drink and scrolling absently through his phone. The nightclub throbbed around him—flashing lights, pounding bass, and the constant surge of bodies on the dance floor. As always, he had volunteered to stay behind and watch everyone’s jackets and half-empty glasses. Dancing had never been his thing; he felt too awkward, too aware of his own movements, like every step made him stand out in the worst way. His friends had long since disappeared into the crowd, laughing and shouting over the music, leaving him in his usual role as the quiet, reliable table guardian.

Boredom had settled in deep. He checked the time again, wondering how much longer they would want to stay before moving on to a quieter pub. The flashing lights made it hard to focus on anything, so he kept his head down, thumb flicking across the screen.

A firm hand suddenly rested on his shoulder.

He turned around with mild relief, expecting to see one of his friends ready to call it a night. Instead, he found himself looking up at a large group of muscular men in dark clothes, standing close and boxing him in against the table. Before he could say a word or even process what was happening, the low, unmistakable whisper cut through the noise right beside his ear:

“Somebody is getting naked!”

He froze completely, phone still gripped in his hand, heart slamming against his ribs as the words echoed in his head. It was the notorious strip gang—and he was their next victim.

Before he could even open his mouth to shout or pull away, his phone was snatched from his fingers. Strong hands grabbed his arms and yanked him up from the stool with effortless strength. The group closed in tight around him, forming a solid wall of muscular bodies that shielded him from the rest of the club. They began walking him forward, steering him straight toward the crowded dance floor.

A knife flashed briefly in front of his eyes, low and hidden between their bodies. “Don’t make a scene,” one of them growled into his ear, voice calm but deadly serious. “Behave yourself and you might even enjoy it.”

His legs moved on autopilot as terror flooded through him. The dance floor swallowed them, the pulsing lights and thumping music disorienting him further. The gang kept a tight circle around him, moving with the rhythm of the crowd so they blended in seamlessly. No one seemed to notice anything unusual—just another group of guys dancing.

But then it started.

A foot hooked behind his heel, and his shoes were pulled off one after the other. His socks followed almost immediately, disappearing into the mass of bodies. The sticky, grimy nightclub floor pressed against his bare soles, making him shudder with sudden, intense vulnerability. Hands were already moving again. His shirt was yanked up and over his head in one swift motion, vanishing into the crowd before he could even register the cool air on his skin.

He tried to twist away, but the circle only tightened. His shorts were tugged down his hips, followed quickly by his underwear. A firm push on his shoulder made him stumble forward, and just like that, he stepped out of the last of his clothes. They were gone—kicked away or passed off into the darkness. He was completely naked in the middle of a packed nightclub dance floor.

With the gang pressed close on all sides, no one outside their tight formation seemed to notice the naked young man among them. The flashing lights and writhing bodies hid everything. But he had never felt more embarrassed in his entire life. Heat burned across his face and chest as the reality sank in—he was stark naked, surrounded by strangers, his cock and balls exposed to the warm, humid air while the bass vibrated through his bare skin.

Then, without warning, his arms were yanked behind his back. A plastic zip tie cinched tight around his wrists, locking them securely in place. He tested the restraint instinctively and felt only unyielding plastic bite into his skin.

That was when the full horror hit him. Getting their victim naked was only the first part for the strip gang. They always wanted more—much more.

The hands were suddenly all over him.

Fingers found his nipples, pinching and rolling them in time with the pounding music. Other hands slid down his body, tickling and cupping his balls, sending jolts of unwanted pleasure through him. He felt palms stroking slowly up and down the cleft of his ass, spreading his cheeks just enough for a curious finger to find his tight, virgin hole. The fingertip circled and teased the sensitive ring of muscle with light, slick touches—an unfamiliar, strangely intimate sensation that made his breath hitch and his thighs tremble.

He tried to fight it, tried to stay soft out of sheer embarrassment, but his body betrayed him. Blood rushed downward and his cock began to swell, rising steadily until it stood throbbing and fully hard, pointing obscenely into the air between the bodies surrounding him.

That was when a strong, lubed hand wrapped firmly around his shaft. To the heavy rhythm of the club music, the real edging began.

The hand stroked him with cruel precision—slow, tight pulls on the upstroke, a teasing twist over the head, then back down again. Every time his breathing grew ragged and his hips started to buck desperately, the hand would stop completely, squeezing the base just enough to ruin the edge. The fingers on his nipples and balls never let up, keeping him right on the brink. The finger at his hole pressed a little deeper, massaging in gentle circles, adding a new layer of torment he had never experienced before.

It went on and on.

Minutes blurred into what felt like hours. The flashing lights and thumping bass merged into a dizzying haze. He was sweating heavily now, his naked body glistening under the strobing lights. His cock leaked steadily, clear precum dripping from the tip and running down the shaft onto the hand that refused to finish him. He no longer cared if anyone outside the tight circle saw him—naked, hard, and shamelessly desperate on the dance floor. All that mattered was release.

“Please…” he gasped, voice hoarse and barely audible over the music. “Please let me cum… I’ll do anything…”

The gang didn’t answer. They just kept going—teasing, stroking, edging him mercilessly. Every time he got close, they pulled back, leaving him whimpering and trembling.

At this point he would have gladly signed any contract they put in front of him. He would have agreed to wank off naked in the middle of the town square every single day for the rest of his life if they would only let him cum right now.

His mind was breaking under the relentless torture.

Then, suddenly, the DJ’s voice boomed over the speakers, cutting through the music.

“Alright, this next one goes out to the naked dancer in the middle of the floor!”

Through the foggy, arousal-drunk haze clouding his mind, the words barely registered. At the exact same moment, the strong hand wrapped around his cock tightened and began stroking faster—firm, relentless, perfectly timed pulls that pushed him right to the edge and beyond.

The new song exploded through the club. A bright spotlight snapped on, flooding the center of the dance floor with harsh white light.

In that instant, the strip gang vanished as suddenly as they had appeared—melting into the crowd like shadows. He was left completely alone, naked, arms bound behind his back, cock throbbing wildly in open air.

The pressure that had been building for what felt like hours finally broke. He couldn’t hold back even if he wanted to. A desperate, guttural moan tore from his throat as thick ropes of cum erupted violently from his cock. He bucked hard, knees giving out, and collapsed forward onto the sticky dance floor as spurt after powerful spurt painted his chest, belly, and thighs.

When he finally managed to open his eyes, the nightmare became complete.

The music had stopped. The spotlight was shining directly on him. The entire nightclub was staring at his naked, sweat-drenched, cum-covered body kneeling in the middle of the floor. Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by bursts of shocked laughter. Phones were already up everywhere, recording and flashing. He heard the words “strip gang” being whispered and passed around like wildfire.

His friends stood among the onlookers, faces frozen in a mix of disbelief and amusement. None of them moved to help.

It felt like an eternity before a bouncer finally pushed through the crowd. “Alright, back up! Give the guy some space!” The big man crouched beside him, blocking a few of the more aggressive phones with his body. “Hang in there, man. Police are on their way. Just breathe.”

Later, when the officers arrived, they cut the zip tie from his wrists and draped a small emergency blanket over his shoulders. It was far too tiny to offer any real coverage—barely reaching the tops of his thighs and doing nothing to hide the mess of drying cum streaking his skin.

They led him outside toward a waiting police car. A small group of journalists who had somehow already caught wind of the incident was waiting, cameras flashing. A sudden gust of night wind whipped the pathetic blanket completely off him, leaving him fully exposed again in front of the lenses.

As the cold air hit his naked, spent body, one exhausted thought ran through his head:

All I ever wanted was to get over my shyness and finally dare to dance… but fuck, this was way too much.

The only thing is, I've never been embarrassed. I'm an ex-stripper who is gifted; to say the least. I am an open book and you can ask me anything. Like how my entire high school saw my entire cock on stage. DM me.

Anyone have any bad experience? Got catfished to stick my dick under the stall turns out to be an immature guy. Heard a video recording start sound then he swiped the full pile of my clothes from under the stall and foot stomping on my dick holding my dick down till my tip was numb with plenty of laughing while I expected a mouth on my dick. Tf you supposed to do

I'm a slim latino guy.. and I like ENM stuff

But, I like being bullied and humiliated

I don't want you to be turned on by me, I want you to laugh at me and make fun

Look at me naked and make fun of me for being naked, I get off when I'm humiliated and exposed naked for clothed guys and they laugh at me and call me names

I want you to think I am a loser basically and embarrass me naked and laugh at how ridiculous I look 😵‍💫

Because.. men laughing at me makes my c0ck swell up 😵‍💫😵‍💫.. idk why, I just like it a lot

I wanna be the naked loser.... HMU

I'm in Pittsburgh like to meet older clothed man that into naked embarrassment sessions.