What brought you here? How long have you had this kink? Have you always, or did you have an experience?

[CaughtOfLore]

Having to edit people's clothes on in post is a surprisingly common film practice. 90% of the most famous ENF/ENM scenes in movies were actually just budget-constraint related.

[RaccoonBatteryStaple]

I've mentioned in the past that my view on young ages in ENP works is that the young characters are required for most of the plots to be believable. Much of ENF and ENP centers around fantasizing about the nervous, awkward, and shy adolescent years, which is why stories set in that time period are so popular.

One hundred percent. Some of the most impacting moments from my younger years were those of embarrassment, and they have stuck much harder than anything that I experience as an adult. Even moments of embarrassment that I merely witnessed as a young'un are more heavily ingrained than things that have happened since my twenties and after.

For me it came out of all the contradictions involving public vs. private and my body.

I have a partial memory of being in a locker room when I was very young, probably at a YMCA. The memory contains four fragments: I was mostly (or completely) undressed; there were a number of people around; I have a strong image of "lockers" that were wire baskets; and I was deeply embarrassed or at least upset. This is one of the oldest memories I have, which speaks to the intensity of it.

At one point our basement was getting refinished and after the old flooring was pulled up, I was allowed to draw roads on the concrete floor with washable markers since it would all get washed before the new flooring went in. At one intersection, I decided to draw a traffic cop. Well, I decided I was going to draw him naked and then draw clothes over top. After all, I start out naked and put clothes on, right? Five year old logic at its finest, I suppose. Anyway, as you would expect, my artwork was discovered after I drew his penis but before I could "cover" it with his uniform which led to questions and admonishments and my not really understanding why there was such a fuss.

Up until around age 11-12, I would hang around the house in a shirt and briefs. I may have started out in Carters -- I don't remember any recognizeable markings, only that they were fairly heavy in terms of material. But from kindergarten forward it was Fruit of the Loom -- except for one brief (pun intended) period when I was around 10 when mom bought me a pack of Hanes instead. I hated them, because they were cut differently than the FTLs. If I sat on the floor (particularly "Indian style") the fly would part ather conspicuously, giving a window to the contents inside. Worse, depending on how I would stand up afterward, my penis would get trapped in the fly.

Then there was the time we did a Greek play at school in the gym. I'd forgotten all about telling my mom I needed a costume and suddenly it was the day of the play. The last-minute, wing-it costume solution was a bath towel and a safety pin as a kind of drape. In my head this was totally fine until the instant I walked out onto the gym floor "stage". I suddenly felt the eyes of the audience on me and I felt very underdressed, especially once I realized the waistband of my briefs was pretty clearly visible on one side.

I also have a very specific memory of going to a department store for a new swimsuit and there was a specific one I became absolutely enamored with. They were white with blue naval designs (anchors, ropes, flags, stuff like that). They were short in the leg (today I'd describe them almost like boxer briefs), and rather close-fitting (the only pair they had was one size too small). For some reason, I really wanted them anyway but mom said no, and I specifically remember her comment: "They'll be almost see-through when they get wet. Do you want everybody to be able to see your peepee?" That comment was embarrassing, but it also gave me butterflies in my tummy.

I grew up in a rural area and my neighborhood was all houses on large lots with half of the acreage being wooded, so there was a fair amount of privacy. When I would play outside as a kid, I frequently liked to pee on the big rocks in our yard, or in the corner of a short retaining wall next to the house. It made me feel free somehow.

Well, at one point my cat had kittens and a neighbor was bringing his daughter over to adopt one of them. I thought I had plenty of time before they arrived so I took up my usual spot by the wall. Things had just started flowing and that's when their car came down the driveway. I desperately tried to pinch off and get things back into my shorts as they came around the bend behind the house. I have no idea if they saw or suspected anything although I was very aware of a wet spot in my briefs from the last drop or two and obviously I was pretty embarassed.
As I became more modest, my activities moved into the woods. We had a pile of rocks and old cement, and I wedged and old tailpipe from one of our cars in the rocks and would pee into it until it rusted out. We also had an old round metal tabletop with a hole in the center for an umbrella. I took it into the woods and wedged it upright between two trees almost like an archery target, and would put my penis through the hole and do my business. That always gave me a little thrill that I could never explain.

And then there were the annual physicals at the doctor's office. Once I was out of diapers the procedure was always to disrobe completely and put on a paper gown, then sit on the exam table and wait for the pediatrician. Once he started checking things with his stethoscope, the gown would always tear or get pushed aside so by the time I was lying on my back for the abdominal palpation I might as well have not bothered to put it on to begin with.

Once I sprouted hair I started leaving my briefs on under the gown, which the pediatrician would lower to mid-thigh at the start of the belly check for the next couple of years. The thing about these checkups is, he would frequently make comments like "everything looks good here" or "you're doing fine" which I guess was meant to be gently reassuring to me and/or my mom but as an overweight kid with body image issues, it kind of felt like he was praising my penis and that felt funny but it also felt good.

For a long time as a kid, I had a recurring dream that I was part of a group of boys with a treehouse club. To get into the treehouse you had to open your pants and display your penis to the other members. Somehow this was a form of identification.

And one of my earliest sex fantasies involved being a spy caught by a female agent. In the "story" I was restrained spread-eagle against a wall and my penis would be "tortured" while she taunted me for being a male with easily manipulated genitals. This would go on until I (unwillingly) climaxed.

So I feel like I've always had this tension between modesty and exposure. The thought of flashing random people, for example, doesn't interest me. But the thought of being seen once put into a situation is exciting. From the time I discovered masturbation, I've fantasized about being made to keep wearing those gappy Hanes briefs through junior high (visibility in PE locker room), and having to wear those white swim trunks to the beach and the pool all summer despite them being as revealing as I was warned they would be.

Once I reached my 30s, I managed to get past being mortified of most casual nudity and now I can do things like change in a locker room or disrobe at the doctor's office without complaint. Of course, now that I'm at the point where I can enjoy it a little bit, the world seems to be moving toward giving people more privacy than before. But in any case, the feelings I experience now aren't nearly as intense or as stirring as when I was younger.

But the intensity of being seen still plays a part in my life. I think sometimes about being a model patient at a teaching hospital. I like the idea of being talked into doing a session or two as a nude model. And I have a fantasy where a friend who knows my kinks take me into a closed theater and gets me to disrobe on the empty stage, only for the curtain to pull back and there's an audience and a spotlight comes on...