The Psychology of Stripping

We were sitting on the observers' side of the one-way mirror looking through into the adjoining room, which was furnished with two simple chairs and one of those beds you see in doctors' offices - mercifully without any stirrups. Jack, who had just finished setting up two cameras in the room we were in, then said he would like to show me how they worked. He asked Ruth to go into the other room while he and I looked at the screens. On the screen for the infrared camera I could see Ruth in the room showing up as bright colours, while the second screen showed the output from a regular video camera. The amazing thing was that it showed a blurring over Ruth's face. No matter how many times she turned around or tried to trick the camera, the software wasn't fooled for a second. It was amazing.

Next Jack showed me the body monitor I would be wearing, which was nothing more than a band which I could wear on either my upper arm or my thigh. Since the blouse I was wearing had long sleeves, I elected to wear it on my thigh like a garter. Sitting down, I straightened out my leg and pulled up my skirt to mid-thigh to allow myself to strap the monitor in place. It was an easy enough thing to do without showing anything, but it reinforced to me how unnatural the situation was that I was in. The skirt I was using to hide my panties would soon be taken off, with the panties certainly following. How could I possibly go through with this?

As if on cue, Ruth's phone suddenly beeped and she announced that Ian had arrived. Jack went to unlock the door for him while Ruth and I waited in silence. I was pacing the room nervously. The room was very warm, so I took off my overcoat and draped it over a chair. A few moments later Jack reappeared, followed closely by Ian.

Ian looked nothing like I expected him to. In my mind I had been picturing a dirty old man, or maybe a misogynistic rugby player. Ian looked surprisingly young. He must have been a freshman, but he could easily have passed for a 16-year-old. He was of average height, but he still managed to look gangly. But the most striking thing was his face, which looked young and fresh and innocent. Well, actually, not all that innocent. Naive and shy might be better terms. There was a certain look in his eye as he greeted me, as though he knew he would be getting away with doing something naughty. He said hello when introduced and he shook hands with me politely.

Jack turned to me. "It's time for you to go through into the other room. We have to spend a few moments with Ian before we send him through. When he goes in to join you, it will be time to start."

I went through into the other room and resumed my pacing backwards and forwards. No doubt they needed to take a moment to go over the rules with Ian, particularly the no touching rule, thank you very much. In my nervousness I had forgotten about the other variable of the experiment, so I was momentarily shocked when Ian stepped through the door a few minutes later.

As Ian stepped sheepishly into the room, he was wearing only his underpants, a pair of grey briefs. His face was bright red, and it was a few moments before he seemed able to look in my direction. During those moments I had an opportunity to look him over. He was thin and gangly, but not overly skinny. Maybe sinewy is the right word. There were certainly some muscles between the skin and the bone. His hands were sometimes covering himself in the front, as though he was trying to force himself to act naturally, and I had glimpses of his obvious erection outlined in his briefs. There was no hiding his arousal.

After a few awkward moments he finally looked me in the eye, and I could see excitement mixed with nervousness and fear. His look pushed me into action. My fingers went to the top button of my blouse as I said "We might as well get started."

"Wait," he said hurriedly. "Stop!"

"What?"

He took a few moments to find the words for his response. "It's just that I'm meant to be the one giving the instructions, and I've, um, got some ideas."

"What like?" I asked, a little bit snappishly.

He recoiled a bit, but he held his ground. "I want to try something first, while you've still got your clothes on. I want you just to stand there with your legs apart."

I didn't understand, but I did as I was asked. Then I started to figure out what he wanted when he lay down on his back and started to slide himself under my skirt. I was startled and I immediately took a step back. "What the hell?"

Again it took a few moments for Ian to figure out what he was going to say. "I know it's weird," he said, "but you need to understand that this is like a free ticket for me, a chance to get away with some of the things I'll never be able to do in any other circumstances. Did you ever think how sexy skirts are? They're just bits of fabric hanging down, but I'm always thinking about how much I would see if only I could look under them. Now's my chance."

His words struck a chord with me. I had often thought about how sexy skirts were, and I sometimes used it to my advantage. I was often aware of how men would always be looking for a glance whenever I sat down or stood up again, and I knew all the tricks to thwart them. Today, however, the rules had been rewritten. It was with mixed feeling that I resumed the position with my legs apart. Ian lay back down, and his head disappeared from view underneath my skirt.

Of course, compared to what followed, this was a very innocent start to proceedings, but I would urge you to try to imagine what it felt like to have a strange man wearing only underpants lying on the floor at your feet, looking up your skirt. My heart was racing, and it took a lot of effort to suppress the urge to step away. As his face was no longer in sight, I had no compunction about checking out his erection pushing against the fabric of his briefs. I could just make out a tiny spot of moisture at the tip. A small part of me recoiled, but mostly I was pleased by his excitement.

After a short time Ian sat up again. I couldn't resist a quick jibe. "Are you happy now?"

He looked slightly hurt, but he made no comment. Instead, he went ahead with his next instruction. "I'd like you to take off your panties now."

For some reason, I don't know why, but this instruction threw me. I guess I assumed the stripping would go in a certain way, and his departure from this was unsettling.

"Why?" I wanted to know.

"Please," was all he replied.

I hesitated for a few moments, but there wasn't any valid reason to refuse his request. Taking them off had always been part of the arrangement, and I could hardly protest on the grounds I was still wearing all my other clothes. I reached up under my skirt and I pulled them down. I hadn't given him a peek, but he still seemed spellbound by my actions. In fact, I understood the sexiness of what I had just done. We both knew very well that the fabric of my skirt was the only thing preventing my pussy from being totally exposed. I was starting to feel excited.

As I placed my panties on top of my jacket on the chair, Ian couldn't help commenting on them. "I wondered what colour they were. It was almost impossible to make them out under your skirt."

I shouldn't have been surprised when Ian lay back down on the floor again, but I was still struggling to come to terms with how the evening was going. If he'd only let me take my clothes off at the start, he would be looking at my naked body already. Instead, he was spending all this time just trying to get a glimpse up my skirt. If he hadn't seen what colour my panties were, what chance did he have of seeing my vagina? I decided not to say a word as he lay down and had a look.

He only spent a short time looking up my skirt before he stood up again, confirming my suspicion that he had seen a lot less than he had hoped. The material of my skirt was very opaque, so it would have been very dark up there. Ian stood in front of me, working out his next move while I waited. His eyes roamed over my body, but most of the time they seemed to be looking at my breasts. My breasts aren't overly large - I wear a C cup bra - but they sit very high without sagging, and I am used to people staring at them. I started mentally preparing myself for the inevitable order to take off my blouse, so I was unprepared when he ordered me to take off my skirt.

I was surprised, but I was also starting to get angry. Ian's defiance of my expectations was unsettling to say the least. I was so sure that the worst that would happen next was to reveal my bra, but instead he was telling me to show him my pussy and ass. It seemed wrong, and I wasn't slow in expressing my displeasure.

"What the hell is your problem?"

He looked hurt and confused. "What do you mean?"

I went on the offensive. "Are you proud of yourself? What makes you think you deserve to see me take off my skirt?"

"That's not fair," he retorted. "I know you must have volunteered for this, just like I did. Don't think that I don't know what it's like. I've been through exactly the same thing. In fact, I had it far worse than you do. A few weeks ago it was me being ordered to take off my clothes by a woman I had never met before. But in my case, she kept on laughing at me and mocking me. You haven't had to deal with that. At least I'm aware of what a privilege it is to be in my position. I think you're a goddess. Please let me worship you."

This last line had a big effect on me. I had to admit that he was nothing but enthusiastic. It hadn't occurred to me that this was a lot better than him being cruel. I had gotten into this situation of my own free will, and the outcome was that this guy was excited and pleased to be here. What had I expected to happen? It occurred to me that Ian was at least as inexperienced as I was. Probably a lot less experienced. I had to ask.

"Have you ever seen a naked woman before?"

Ian blushed. "Not in real life."

His response was very sweet, and it had a big impact on what happened after that. Like any woman, I knew that part of my discomfort was being compared to other, more beautiful women. There is something special about being with an inexperienced man. I was curious. "What made you ask me to take off my skirt?"

Ian spent a few moments in serious thought before replying. "I may not have seen much in real life, but I've seen a lot of different pictures. You may think this is weird, but I've seen plenty of pictures of topless women, and plenty of women in just their underwear. They deliver lingerie ads all the time in the letterbox at home. But what you never see is pictures of bottomless women who are otherwise clothed. That's why I wanted to see that."

And to be honest, I was starting to understand where Ian was coming from. Even if it was a bit weird, who wouldn't take the chance to see the one image that you weren't normally bombarded with? I had to admit, the thing that made it weird was the thing that made it special. The decision that faced me now was, was I going to give him what he wanted, or was I suddenly going to renege on the whole arrangement? I had gone so far already that it would have been crazy not to take it to the next level. And just like that, I had committed myself to taking off my skirt.

The skirt I was wearing had a zip at the back. I reached behind and unzipped it and then started pushing it down to my ankles. The expression on Ian's face was priceless. Overwhelmingly he looked exceedingly grateful, and I had to admit this felt good. All of a sudden there was nothing covering my pussy. My natural reaction was to want to cover myself with my hands, but I knew that Ian was allowed to have me pose in any way I wanted. So instead of giving him that power, I took it instead. I stood before him with my hands at my side. As I did so, I looked up at the one way mirror, and all of a sudden I remembered that my audience included Jack and Ruth on the other side of the glass. This brought about some interesting thoughts. What would they be thinking? I suddenly realised that Ian's enthusiasm was motivating me, and now I was wondering if Jack and Ruth felt the same. They had watched action like this many times before. Maybe they didn't care that I was now showing them my most intimate body parts. For reasons I didn't understand, I was now desperately keen for them to be excited by my partial nudity.

Of course, I never got any immediate feedback from beyond the mirror, but the feedback I was getting from Ian was all positive. I noticed that his hand would frequently go to the bulge in his underpants, seemingly to readjust himself but in reality to give himself a quick stroke. His excitement was so obvious, but he had no option available to relieve his excitement. I knew that every time he touched himself he was only making himself more aroused, and this knowledge only made me feel more powerful. All of a sudden I felt the power of my situation. I knew it was me who was torturing him rather than the other way around. This poor inexperienced boy was at my mercy.

There was no surprise at his next request. He asked me to take off my blouse, leaving me in just my bra and shoes. As I fumbled with my buttons I realised I was hurrying to comply. As I pulled open my blouse and let it slip down my arms I was rewarded with an excited gasp from Ian. I placed my blouse with my panties on top of my jacket and stood to allow Ian to look at me.

At this stage Ian was sitting down on the other chair in a vain attempt to conceal his ever-present erection and the growing wet spot on his briefs. He asked me to turn around, and I did so. He stared at me long enough to take a mental picture of me clad in only a bra before he made the inevitable request for me to remove it. As it happens, this created a problem that I hadn't foreseen when I got dressed. One of the hooks on this particular bra is a bit bent, and it is very difficult to undo. This isn't normally much of a problem because normally I take off my bra the easy way - I pull my arms out of the shoulder straps and pull the bra around until the hooks are at the front over my stomach. That way it is far simpler to undo. Unfortunately, it doesn't look nearly as sexy.

I was enjoying looking sexy and loving the power it gave me, so I had a go at unhooking my bra at the back. Ian sat there, barely breathing, while I reached behind me and fumbled with the hooks. Unfortunately it wasn't to be. Ian continued to start at me. I guess he was wondering if I was chickening out. Our eyes met, and I got my inspiration for my next move. I knew that if I held his gaze, the eye contact would drive him wild no matter how clumsily I removed my bra.

I gazed steadily into Ian's eyes, and what I saw there was overwhelming excitement. I held his gaze as I slipped one shoulder strap off my shoulder, followed by the second. The eye contact was also having a strong effect on me. It greatly increased the intimacy of what I was doing. He had promised to worship me, and that's what he was doing. I knew I was becoming very aroused, and this was more than confirmed when a moment later I felt a small trickle of my pussy juices run down my inner thigh. And in that moment everything changed because I could not resist breaking my eye contact with Ian and glancing down at my thigh.

Of course, the trickle of pussy juices wasn't at all obvious to the eye. But all of a sudden the power of the moment had gone and I was acutely aware of where I was and what I was doing. I was standing naked in front of a man I had just met in a room at the university. Naked, that is, except for a pair of shoes and a bra hanging around my waist while my finger continued to fight with the hook to get it undone. I was also being watched by a man and a woman in the adjoining room, and everything was being recorded on video and infrared. There was a monitor strapped to my thigh taking readings of my heart rate and my perspiration and god knows what else. Suddenly I felt very, very embarrassed.

As my mind was flooded with all these feelings, my finger continued to work on autopilot undoing my bra. Finally it came undone, and I simply let it fall to the floor. Ian's eyes watched it drop, and then he did something extraordinary that changed the dynamics of the moment yet again. He stood up and stepped forward to pick up the bra, and he gently added it to the pile of my other clothes on the other chair. I know it may seem really silly, but that small gesture made an impact on me. Here he was, in the midst of exercising his power to make me strip naked, but he still thought highly enough of me that he didn't want my bra to come to any harm on the floor. I looked up at him and thanked him. My words helped him to find his own voice.

"You are amazingly beautiful," he said. "I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate this. This is the most awesome thing that has ever happened to me."

As Ian was still standing, he started circling me slowly, coming to a stop at my side where he could obviously get a good view of the profile of my breasts.

"They're so ...pert!" he said. "Can I ask what cup size they are?"

It didn't seem that I should have to answer that question, as it wasn't strictly part of what I had agreed to do, but he had asked with such puppyish curiosity that I didn't have the heart to decline him. "They're a C."

"Really? I was sure they were bigger."

My breasts do attract a lot of attention. They aren't overly large, but they sometime look bigger because they don't sag much at all. Two of my boyfriends had suggested that I didn't need to wear a bra, which is such a typical male idea. If you want boobs that don't sag, then wear a bra.

Ian went and sat down again. The wet patch on the front of his briefs was now about an inch in diameter, and he was obviously become self-conscious about it. He had remained continuously erect for quite some time now. He looked at me shyly, and I could tell he was about to make one of his unusual requests. I wasn't wrong.

"Would you mind if I asked you to put your jacket on?"

This request so surprised me that I started giggling. "Ian, I don't think you really understand how this works. The idea was to undress me, not cover me up."

"I know, I know. Just bear with me for a second. It's another one of my little fantasies. Did you ever hear stories about women who go to meet their boyfriends naked underneath their overcoat, sometimes driving across town or even taking the bus? I love that idea."

Ian was blushing shyly, and I was starting to think that he was quite cute. I put on my overcoat and did up a couple of the buttons. I was still wearing my shoes, and all of a sudden I regretted my decision not to wear high heels. High heels would have been heaps sexier right now.

Ian continued to talk about the fantasy. "Ok, let's pretend you've just knocked on the door of my flat. You've driven here wearing only that. You didn't even have any other clothes with you in the car."

As Ian spoke, I was starting to get involved in the fantasy myself. He stood up and actually opened an imaginary door for me to walk through. I found myself saying "Hi gorgeous. Are you surprised to see me?"

Ian seemed so excited by my participation that he seemed unable to say anything. Instead he nodded excitedly. Without needing any further encouragement, I continued on with our role play. "Well baby, I've got one more surprise that I know you're going to love." And with that I quickly undid the buttons on my jacket and pulled it open.

In real life I had never been in the scenario of arriving at a boyfriend's house wearing nothing but a coat. Not only had I never had the confidence, but none of those selfish jerks had ever deserved it. Now, however, I was impressed with how sexy it made me feel, and I resolved then and there that I would do it for real one day. I was feeling incredibly horny, and I felt another trickle of pussy juices run down my thigh again, this time reaching as far as the strap that held the monitor in place. The excitement was unbearable, and I wondered how much more I could take.