Girls Embarrassed Stripped Public

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Girls Embarrassed Stripped Public
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Stories about girls getting pantsed, stripped and humiliated by anyone or anything.
Hi. I think you are all very weird.

I don't mean that as an insult. I am a very weird girl myself. But we are different types of weird. You are weird because you like to read stories about young girls being naked and humiliated. I am weird because I am one of those girls, and you don't live through what I have gone through and end up normal.

Are we incompatibly weird? I don't know. I hope not.

I was kind of shocked when I first found this site. I was looking for...advice, I guess? It feels silly to put it into words, but I was using Google while wondering if there might be some kind of 'support group' for girls who have been through what I have. After looking through a few topics I quickly figured out this was not what I was looking for!

Even though I didn't find what I wanted I couldn't look away. This place is so strange to me, so how could I avert my eyes? I read what felt like a lot but was probably only a few stories. They made me feel...weird. They are so much like what I went through but so different at the same time. It is like my life, but if all the horrible things I felt were subtracted and replaced with...I don't know. Good or fake-bad feelings? Like even when the girl is feeling bad, she is not feeling it for herself, she is feeling it for the people watching her. It is like there is some director telling her, "cut - this time, be miserable but do it sexier."

Which I know that is pretty much what a writer does! It is their job. I am not (that) dumb. I am just trying to describe my feelings of reading these things. I also don't know if writing like that is bad. Just because somebody's fantasy is my nightmare doesn't mean anything. They are just words in the end, right?

But then, these are just words too, and if these stories aren't hurting anyone then me saying what I want to say isn't going to hurt anyone either, right? I thought for a while about what to say, because I didn't want to just show up and tell you that you're all weird and your stories made me feel bad.

Also, they didn't even make me feel bad, exactly? They just felt wrong. Like when my sister sees software programmers or hackers on TV and complains about how none of that stuff is how it actually works.

So I want to tell you what being an "embarrassed naked girl" is actually like. Maybe it will give you some sympathy for them. Maybe you will show how sad and ruined they are after they are exposed. Maybe you will go the other way, and give them a happy ending, because you understand them now and want them to be okay at the end of your story. I don't know. Maybe you won't change anything at all, because fantasies are like TV hacking and it is supposed to be exciting and not realistic. I just felt like I needed to write this (I kind of have to force myself, because I feel so many things I know I need to do something, but I don't like thinking about it too much) and I hope it means something to you.

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I was a little older than 13 at the time. I think I looked pretty normal for my age. I hadn't gone through puberty yet though, so think young 13. I will say that if you had to guess how old I was from just a picture, you would guess 11 or 12 before you guessed 14 or 15.

I have a mom, and a sister who is 2 years older than me. My dad passed on when I was 7.

We are apparently from Israel, but we moved to America when I was 3 and we didn't go 'home' too often, so I feel like any other American. We lived in California but not on the coast, so it wasn't waves and surfing all the time like you see on TV. It was like any other city.

This day we did visit the beach, though. My mom got a new swimsuit for herself and a big floppy hat and sunglasses. My sister and I just wore our old swimsuits, but we had to drive for 2 hours to get there and I remember being excited. We didn't have very much money, so travel didn't happen a lot and going somewhere so far away felt like an adventure.

I remember having a pretty good time, mostly. I liked running around in all the sand and I got to play frisbee with some older kids. I was too scared to get into the ocean, though, even with my mom and my sister holding my hands. I had watched some show about sharks at some point and I didn't want to get eaten. In the second half of the day I was pretty cooked by the sun so I remember just hanging out in the shade under the docks (boardwalk? there weren't big boats or anything, IDK the proper name) and making structures and drawings in the sand. I was super determined to make a sand elephant statue and bring it home with me, I don't know why but I remember it clearly.

Once it got late my mom told me and my sister to go shower off. I really wish the showers at this beach were the normal basic "public fountain" ones, then I would've understood them better and none of this would have happened. But they were really nice ones, with small individual wooden stalls and benches in the middle of them all. It was kind of like an open air locker room.

There were other people showering at the time, so my sister went into the only open one and left me to wait with the bag (it had all our beach towels and stuff). She really could have just let me shower with her and again none of this would have happened, but this a good time to let you know that my sister was kind of a bitch at this age and tried to have as little to do with me as possible.

Honestly, a ton of this is her fault. I split the blame three ways equally between her, myself, and my mom.

A different shower opened up a minute after my sister went into her stall. This is where I have to explain my logic a little, because it made sense to me at the time but in retrospect I was so stupid and unobservant and I hate myself for it to the point where I feel like I probably deserve what happened to me. I know that's not true but sometimes I'm so mad at myself that's what it feels like.

Basically, I thought that taking a shower meant you had to be naked. It's what I did when I showered at home, it's what I did when I showered after gym, and nobody bothered to tell me otherwise about showering here. My mom never bothered to explain anything to me, I was just expected to magically know how things worked at a certain age. Are all parents like this? "you are 12 years old, how do you not know how to cook your own eggs?" Because you never showed me, mom, did you expect god to just beam this knowledge into my head or something? I am mad just thinking about it.

So, despite the fact that I had just clearly seen another woman leave the shower in a bikini (stupid, stupid, stupid), I took off my own little one piece, balled it up on top of the bag, and then went in to the stall to take a shower. I stayed in there for quite some time too, like it was a regular shower and not just a rinse, like it was the last shower I would ever get to take or something. I am pretty sure I got every grain of sand off of me.

Of course, when I got out of the shower, my sister was gone and so was the bag. I panicked and looked around for a little bit, but another woman got out of her shower so I ran back into my stall so she wouldn't see me. I was freaking out, not really embarrassed yet but scared I was going to get in trouble (we didn't have much money, so losing stuff was a big deal). I didn't know what to do, though, so I just curled up in the corner of the stall.

An older teen came to the stall I was in and saw me, said sorry, and left. I don't think he saw anything but I was still a little embarrassed. I had enough sense at least to turn the shower back on so people would hear it and nobody else would come in. I don't know how long I stayed like that. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes? Finally my sister came back. I guess she was looking around the beach trying to find me, because she was really mad.

She asked me where my suit was, I said it was in the bag. She said she had taken the bag to the car. I thought I would have to wait here a while longer and she would go get it, but for some reason she decided that it would be better to grab me by the wrist and drag me out of the stalls and the shower area entirely, back onto the beach.

I say "for some reason" but I have thought about this a lot. I think she was just in a bad mood from trying to find me and wanted to hurt me. My sister could be very sadistic towards me when she was that age. Every once in a while she would be nice to me, but for the most part I don't think she saw me as an actual person. Like when you burn ants or pull the wings off of a fly, you don't feel bad because they don't really matter (I actually do feel bad for insects, but I know a lot of people don't, and it is the best way to describe how I think my sister felt). Does anyone else have an older sister (or maybe brother) like that? Do you know what I mean?

This is the first part of the day where I felt actually humiliated. It is probably important to say here that my family wasn't big on making girls cover themselves up. You might have an image in your head of how girls from the middle east are forced to dress, but Israel doesn't really treat its women like other middle eastern countries do. We have a lot of freedom there, and Israeli living in America are just as free. Most of the time I just wore shorts and tshirts like any other American girl, and at home I might wear just panties down to breakfast, or even all day if it was too hot (we didn't have AC and summers got hot). So it wasn't like this was super against our culture or anything, I don't want to give that impression.

But being nearly-naked at home with just my mom and my sister was completely different from being dragged across a beach full of strangers stark naked. I think that is against basically anyone's culture. I was freaking out and trying to fight against my sister, but she was much bigger than me. I had one hand free, but that wasn't enough to cover myself. Probably if you are older you think you would cover your privates in this situation, but at the time I remember being very upset that people were seeing my butt. I think when someone is embarrassed and naked in cartoons, you usually only see their butts, so to me that was the part of me that nobody should be seeing.

I feel like a lot of people were staring at me. Again my body wasn't very much to look at, probably if i had been calm I would've just been overlooked as some naked little kid walking with her sister. It was the fact that I was fighting and causing a scene. At the time it didn't matter why they were looking, though, because at the end of the day it was strangers seeing my naked body.

My sister dragged me and my bare butt across half the beach, it felt like. I don't know if there are words to describe how it felt. My heart was beating really fast and I guess I was technically "excited", but not in the way girls in your stories usually are. I was sick with adrenaline. I felt like I was going to throw up or faint or pee myself. I felt exposed, but like in an unsafe way on top of the naked way. It is hard to describe. Maybe like when you're in a dark room and you don't have your blanket around you? It was terrifying. I felt weak and helpless, because there was nothing I could do against my sister.

You feel weak a lot as a kid, I think. One time in like 3rd grade a weird girl wanted to give me "a tattoo" that was really just her drawing on people in sharpie marker. In one of my rare bursts of wisdom I told her "no thank you, be on your way", but her friends pinned me down and she lifted up my shirt and drew all sorts of dumb looking flowers and suns and stuff on my stomach. One boy held my legs and one girl held my arms, and I struggled as hard as I could but I couldn't get free or stop myself from getting drawn on. I got in trouble at home for having marker all over me, but my punishment was nothing compared to the helplessness I felt at not being able to stop something I didn't want from happening to me. I can't think of any better way to put it, I think that lack of control really messes you up as a kid.

At some point I stopped fighting my sister as much (maybe I just gave up on life, it is hard to remember) and she led me over to where my mom was. It was one of those tables with built in benches. My mom had bought us all hamburgers and fries.

I think the conversation went something like this:

Mom: "Finally. You girls take forever. Why is Dalia naked?"
Sister: "She took off her suit to shower."
Mom: "Goodness, Dalia. Well where is it?" (She is paranoid about us losing expensive things, even though honestly it was a pretty cheap suit)
Sister: "I think it is in the bag in the car."
Mom: "Well, sit down and eat before it all gets cold."

I think this makes my mom sound weird. Well, she still kind of is no matter what way you slice it, but I have thought a lot about her logic. It is probably a lot like my sister's logic, where she just didn't see me as a proper person yet. Remember that I still looked basically like a little kid. So I think she was exasperated with me but did not think I had anything "womanly" to worry about showing yet. Plus maybe she assumed since I didn't wear anything around the house I didn't have any shame and I was okay with being naked, or maybe she just didn't take my feelings into account as very important. She had paid good money for the food (fast food was a treat at my house) and she didn't want it to go to waste for a "dumb" reason.

I kind of let myself be maneuvered into a sitting position on the bench (it was one of those splinter-y benches with chipped paint, so it was uncomfortable and I was taking my life into my hands by sitting on it, but it felt less exposed than standing. I think I thought maybe people would assume I was wearing bikini bottoms if they couldn't see my butt? I was still deeply concerned about people seeing my butt.) My mom then tried to put food in front of me and make me eat, but I put my foot down at that point. I made a whole ass scene: I slapped the table, stomped my foot, possibly yelled and cried a little. Somebody was going to get me some motherfucking (I did not say this word but it was how I felt) clothes to wear.

Eventually my mom gave my sister the car keys and told her to get my suit. My sister then rudely handed them to me and told me to get them myself. She had such a bad attitude that day. I don't know where she got the nerve. I wish had half as much nerve that day. I wish that I had continued to throw a tantrum and demand that she or my mom do it while I hid under the table.

Really what should have happened was that my mom should have objected to sending the naked 13 year old girl across the beach by herself, but she seemed fine with it. I think because she was fine with it I felt like I didn't have grounds to object, because if my sister was in the wrong wouldn't my mom have said so and made her do it?

So like the dumb, compliant little idiot I was I got up and headed off to get my swimsuit. My legs felt weak, like they didn't want to support me. It still felt like I needed to throw up. I think in the moment everything felt almost surreal, like I was having wave after wave of vertigo, and the world kept flipping upside down and then rightside up. Nothing felt exactly real.

That is only my analysis of it after the fact. In the moment I would have said (if anyone bothered to ask, which they didn't) that I felt "dizzy and bad", and like I couldn't hold in my pee and needed to go right then and there.

I walked away from the bench and towards the general direction of where the car was parked. I won't cover the entire journey because I honestly don't remember it blow-for-blow and a lot of it is the same feeling of horribleness, but I will highlight parts that stood out to me and things I focused on in the aftermath.

First, my mother continued to just not tell me about things and assumed I knew. Where were we parked? I had no clue. Why would I know that? I didn't need to remember, I was 13, all I had to do was tag after my mom at the end of the day. I was an especially dumb kid who didn't pay attention to stuff, but damn, I don't think it was all my fault. Getting mad again thinking about it. Tell your kids stuff, they don't know anything and they're too scared to ask you, ok?

I didn't really have a strategy, I just stumbled in a sad, shaky daze across the sand until I found the area I remembered us being in when we arrived. I didn't cover up or anything, it didn't cross my mind at this point that it would help hide my butt, I just kept a death grip on the keys and kept moving forward.

I remember there was a gravelly section that hurt my bare feet. It was like some cruel joke. I had to go extra slow and step as lightly as possible when I got to that part, prolonging my nakedness. In a way I feel like the pain calmed me down a little, though? I was super upset still, don't get me wrong, but it made me focus on something else besides how exposed and humiliated I was.

Basically everyone ignored me. I wonder if they just didn't want to get involved? I still mostly think they saw me as a little kid and nothing about my body was very scandalous, so they didn't see a reason to panic. One man asked me if I was lost though (I was), and I panicked hard and ran off at a full sprint and hid underneath some docks until he went away.

I think I mostly want you to understand how ashamed, terrified, and upset I felt. I wasn't scared of the man really, I was terrified of something more abstract. Social rules, maybe? I was supposed to be wearing clothes and I wasn't, and everyone could see. It was the worst day of my life. I was so thoroughly humiliated...I was debased and degraded. Please really really think about those two words and their meanings, because the surface level doesn't do my feelings justice. That day I felt like I had my dignity, my status as a full human being stripped away. I wasn't a proper person anymore - an animal, maybe? Actually no, I'd say I did not feel like an animal, because animals occupy the station they were meant to. An animal is supposed to be naked and dirty and pee on the ground outside - which, by the way, I ended up finally losing that battle with my bladder and doing after a few minutes spent hiding and shaking beneath the dock. At the time I felt like the lowest of lowly creatures. I wasn't an animal because I wasn't meant to be in the state I was, doing the things I was doing. Animals were my betters. I was a fallen child, a failed person.

(I know this sounds super dramatic and overly thoughtful for a 13 year old. Again, I did not literally think these thoughts then, I am just trying to write truthfully and use words that give proper weight to what I was feeling at the time. I'm 28 now so I have a lot more perspective on the situation and a better vocabulary.)

it was like releasing my bladder released everything inside of me. I had myself a miniature breakdown in the relative privacy underneath the docks, runny nose and tears and ugly sobbing. After some time of this I pull myself together enough to keep going. Snot was running down my chin with nowhere to wipe it. My eyes were puffy and I could barely see where I was going through my tears. I wasn't used to peeing in a weird crouch without a toilet, so there was some pee running down my leg and some spattered o
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