tagExhibitionist & VoyeurThe Naked Gymnast's Night Out

The Naked Gymnast's Night Out


Hello again, I'm Miranda, remember me? Perhaps you have read my account of my misadventures at a gymnastics contest, where I ended up naked in front of a crowd. I put my story on this site when I was advised to talk about it to overcome my deep sense of humiliation. I did feel strangely liberated by doing it; oddly knowing that the whole world could read it took away some of the shame.

What I didn't expect was for it to land me in another, similar situation only last month.

Since leaving university I have been working for a financial company in the City. Recently I changed departments and found myself working with a girl of my own age called Linzi. We quickly became friends as well as colleagues, often going out after work to have a good time. One Friday she told me that she had arranged for us to go on a double date. She had met a guy over lunch and arranged to meet him and his mate at a club that evening. I wasn't exactly dressed for clubbing but she was so insistent I agreed. Linzi suggested that we went back to her place, using the tube, where she'd find me something to wear.

On the way she chatted incessantly about James, the guy she had met. He was apparently, perfect, good-looking, sensitive, a real gentleman and nothing like her previous boyfriends. She may have said some more but I stopped listening a few stops into our journey and just tried to appear interested. Her flat was a short walk from the tube station and we soon arrived.

Once there she sorted me out something to wear to the club. This proved a little problematic as our dress sizes weren't a perfect match. As I mentioned in my first story, whilst I am not fat, I am quite curvy whereas Linzi is less well-endowed, even a bit skinny. Thus any of her dresses were quite snug. Wearable, but definitely figure hugging! Eventually we settled on a white halter-neck dress and now the seeds for disaster were sown.

Linzi passed judgment on my appearance. "The dress looks fine, but your bra straps are showing and you have the worst case of visible panty line in the history of the world!"

"Well I'll have to take them both off then. I'll go commando!" I replied giggling.

Perhaps if we hadn't had a couple of glasses of wine already or perhaps if I wasn't feeling quite so self confident after unburdening myself by posting the story of the gym contest on the internet I would had said something different, but I didn't and so a few minutes later we were on our way back to the tube to go back into town for our double date.

The walk back to the tube station had proved that the dress provided almost, but not quite enough support for my boobs, which jiggled furiously as I walked, and that the dress was very figure hugging. I was attracting lots of admiring glances from passing men, which I found very flattering. On the tube even the motion of the train caused my boobs to jiggle, which proved of great interest to the guy opposite. Unfortunately for him his girlfriend didn't like the way he was staring so he got a dig in the ribs and I got a filthy look. As we neared town the carriage filled up and people had to stand. A sleazy looking businessman, in a cheap suit, took advantage of this to stand in front of me trying to look at my cleavage. However I didn't mind too much or so I kept telling my self. A small voice inside my head kept telling me I should have worn a less revealing outfit and kept my underwear on.

At the club we met James and my date for the evening Mark. We stood around drinking for a while. For someone who was supposed to be with Linzi, it struck me that James was paying me rather a lot of attention. Things got worse when Mark took a call on his mobile and made his excuses and left.

"Never mind Miranda, we'll just make it a threesome!" said James in the sort of tone of voice that suggested that he was only joking, but that if we were up for the idea, then he was serious.

"No thanks, I probably leave too soon."

"Oh that's a shame" said Linzi in a voice full of relief. She'd obviously noticed James eyeing me up.

James took control and bought another round of drinks, postponing my departure. Obviously cross Linzi went to the loo. James made his move.

"You look stunning in that dress, Miranda."

"Thanks, but aren't you Linzi's date?"

"Well she's very nice, but I like a woman with curves in the right places" he said leering at me, adding "Like you."

"Sorry James, but Linzi's a good friend so I'm not gonna do this to her."

"Ok Miranda, fair enough. Can I have one dance as a consolation?"

I probably should have refused. Once we were on the dance floor he took every chance to pull me close to him, feeling my curves, which he so admired, through the thin material of the dress. It wasn't unpleasant, quite the reverse, but I knew Linzi wouldn't be too pleased. As we came off the dance floor I could tell from her face, furious, rather than unhappy, was nearer the truth.

"Having fun?" she snapped.

"Look, Linzi, it was just one dance, I didn't wanna be rude and refuse."

"Yeah, right!" she muttered and then she threw her drink over me. I was drenched in rum and cola all down the front of the white dress. Immediately she was apologetic, as concerned about me as her dress. We set off for the loo to try to repair the damage. She wet some paper towel and began dabbing at the dress, muttering "I'm sorry" over and over. Her dabbing was having little effect.

"Look Miranda, slip the dress off, I'll soak it in the sink and dry it under the hand drier."

"Linzi I can't, I've got no underwear on remember."

"Please, the dress will be ruined and you can hide in one of the cubicles. Please!"

I felt so guilty that she had thought I was trying to steal James and she was so insistent I agreed. In the privacy of a cubicle I slipped out of the wet dress and handed it to her.

"Be quick!" I hissed, closing the door.

"Have fun, you man-stealing slut! I'm leaving now, see you later Miranda!"

And with that she was gone! I was naked in a night club toilet, with just my shoes and my handbag. I sat on the loo seat and began to cry.

I wasn't left to cry for long. There was a banging on the door.

"Oi! There's people out here needing a piss, come out and snivel somewhere else!" called out and angry sounding woman. A few other voices were raised in agreement.

I kept quiet, not knowing what to say. The banging on the door got angrier then subsided as a new voice appeared.

"Keep the noise down! What's going on here?"

I listened as the situation was explained. There was a more civilized knock on the door and then a calmer voice asked "This is Ms Scott, assistant manager. Are you alright Miss?"

That's a good question I thought. Does naked in a night club loo count as alright I wondered?

"Umm, I'm not hurt or ill but I do have a bit of a problem."

"What's your name?"

"Miranda" I replied.

"Well Miranda, what's the matter?"

"My friend spilt her drink over my dress and she said she'd wash it out, so I took it off and she had gone with the dress." I hesitated, biting my lip, before adding, "So now I've got nothing on."

There was laughter from the crowd.

There were signs that Ms Scott was trying very hard not to laugh as she said, "Well if you'd unlock the door we can go to my office where you might be more comfortable."

Reluctantly I unlocked the door and emerged to be confronted by the crowd and Ms Scott. The anger had turned into amusement, although the woman nearest the door did push past me into the loo before I had got out of the door. Ms Scott took off her waistcoat and saying, "Put this on Miranda and we'll go to the office."

I did put it on but it was very short, leaving me exposed below the waist and its very fitted style meant that it wouldn't button up to cover my boobs. I held it as shut as I could manage with one hand and held my handbag so it covered my pussy, took a deep breath and followed Ms Scott out of the safety of the ladies loo and into the club. Her office was on the far side of the club to the toilets, on the far side of the dance floor and bar area, so I was lead right round the club. It was quite dark, as night clubs usually are, but it was too bright for my liking. Calling on all my reserves of confidence I tried to walk proudly behind Ms Scott, rather that skulking as if something was wrong, but it was a façade. Inside I was flinching from every look and every comment. It was hard not to flash a glimpse of my pubic hair or my boobs and every time I did someone seemed to see. Just like the time at the gym contest people, guys mostly, felt obliged to make some comment. "Nice tits!" or "Look at her arse; I'd like a piece of that!" or "Give us a proper flash darling". I felt my cheeks glowing with the redness of my humiliation and embarrassment. It was even worse than before as this time guys were able to slap or pinch my bum as I passed and believe me they did. It seemed like an eternity but eventually we reached the office.

I sat in the chair indicated by Ms Scott. We spent a few moments going over the events of the evening and discussing my options. We agreed that although it might prove tricky I needed to get back to Linzi's flat where my belongings and clothes were as it was much nearer than my flat and I did know where she kept her spare key. The helpful and efficient Ms Scott ("Call me Annie") agreed to help me find a taxi and something to wear, although not in that order.

Annie searched high and low. There was no lost property that was any use, just a few umbrellas and makeup bags.

"Oddly enough we don't get many people losing dresses and skirts" remarked Annie without a hint of sarcasm, "if it had been winter there might have been a few coats."

However, being summer no one was wearing coats for them to lose. There were no spare staff uniforms either. All the clothing her searching found was a cut-off tee-shirt, left over from a drink promotion a few months previously. It was clearly meant to be worn over something as it barely covered my boobs, but it was a start. I returned her waistcoat, guessing that she'd prefer me not to wrap it round my still exposed lower regions.

The worst part of the search was the constant flow of staff into her office. Every single one of the apologized for interrupting, but every single one of the men made sure they got a good long look at me as I sat there, trying to cover as much as I could with just my handbag and the tiny tee-shirt.

Annie seemed not to notice, dealing with their questions quickly and then continuing her search. Finally she locked me in while she went to search a store room, returning a few minutes later.

"Have you ever worn a sarong?" was her greeting to me on her reply. My hopes soared.

"You could wrap this tea-towel round you like a really short sarong. It's all I can find."

My hopes plummeted. A tea-towel? Undaunted she produced a safety pin from her desk and made me try it out.

It was a very small tea-towel and whilst it could be pinned at the waist, it lacked the material to wrap around like a sarong. In fact it barely met at all below the waist, leaving a great expanse of thigh uncovered! We both looked and the expression on Annie's face showed that she felt as unhappy as I did. I was glad to be covered up at last, even if I still had a bare midriff, bare legs, right up to my waist on one side don't forget, and a top that just covered my boobs. We agreed that it was the best we could do. She tried to ring a cab for me, but was told that, due to a thunderstorm outside, about which we had no idea, there were no cabs for several hours. I was desperate to get home so I told her I would get the tube. She seemed doubtful.

"Are you sure you'll be ok, you've not got much on."

I wasn't sure, but I lied. "I'll be fine; there are girls out there with as little on, at least I am covered up now and there are umbrellas in lost property!"

Annie walked with me to the exit. This time, covered up somewhat, there were no comments, but plenty of guys still looked, undressing me with their eyes. Not that their eyes had much work to do. Outside it was pouring down. The tube station was only a few minutes away and I had an umbrella, but I still got pretty wet. My high heels made it dangerous to run in the wet and walking too quickly caused my tea-towel skirt to gape open even wider and my boobs to jiggle free from the tee-shirt, so I was only able to walk. By the time I reached the station my 'skirt' was clinging to me, tracing every curve. And I mean every curve. My tee-shirt was also a bit wet, just enough to cling to my boobs and show that the coldness of the air had made my nipples rather too perky for my liking.

I was close to tears as I made my way through the entrance hall and got on the escalators down to the trains. The downpour had made the station busy and in the harsh light off the station I could feel everyone staring at me. I felt my lip begin to tremble, but I bit it and force myself onwards.

'Let them stare', I told my self, 'I hope they enjoy the view, they're only looking because I look good.' I didn't really believe myself, but it helped a little.

The two minute wait for the train seemed like two hours, but no-one said anything to me. When the train arrived the rush of air through the tunnel ahead of it caused my makeshift skirt to flap about. I'm sure the men on the bench behind me must have had an excellent view of my bum, but they said nothing. Perhaps they couldn't believe what they were seeing! The train was busy, which was a blessing and a curse. It was full enough so that no-one dared try anything too outrageous, but full enough for me have my bum touched, 'accidentally' by the guy behind me, several times, before I stepped hard on his foot with my high heels before turning round and saying sorry. He gave me no bother after that and my coolness in dealing with him made my confidence rise, especially as no I was facing him he could see my jiggling boobs. Every time he glanced I caught him and he looked away shamefaced.

By the time I was taking the short walk to Linzi's flat I was ready to give her what for. Soaked to the skin, the tee-shirt virtually transparent, I lifted the flower pot to find the spare key, but as I did the door opened.

"Miranda! Its you! Thank goodness!" she cried, hugging me and dragging me into the flat. "I've been so worried!"

"Worried!" I exclaimed, "You left me naked in a nightclub in the middle of town!"

"Only long enough to give James a piece of my mind."

"You were gone ages."

"It took longer than I realized, he was quite reluctant to let me go. He kept saying you had thrown yourself at him and I so wanted to believe him. In the end I came to my senses and went back to the loo to find you, but you'd gone."

I could see how sincere she was so I calmed down a bit. Telling her the story, bits of it seemed almost funny, to her at least.

"I was so worried cos I knew how much you hated it the last time" she said.

"The last time?" I replied puzzled.

"At the gym contest; I read your story on the internet and when I was really cross I remembered it. I wanted to pay you back and what better way than to leave you naked in public again. I could tell from your story how much you hated it."

"You read my story?"

"Yeah, there were enough clues in it for me to see at once it was you. I visit that site all the time."

I was stunned.

"Can you forgive me?" she asked.

I nodded. "I can see I'll have to be more careful in future."

So there you have it. My cathartic story of nakedness caused me to have to suffer again. Linzi insisted we put this story on the same site, just for a laugh, although it took many glasses of wine to persuade me. She reckons I should ask readers if they liked this story.

Well did you?

Miranda x

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