Our Reader’s SPH Experiences: The Riot

By Anon.

The riots and looting in London received much media attention in the UK and worldwide. Many shocking and disgusting stories filled news reports, Twitter, and newspapers. Death, fire, and mass disorder hit sections of the city. Many stories of people losing business, homes, cars, etc., were reported. Another story that shocked me was the stripping of people for phones and bags and a lot of what they were wearing.

It’s not uncommon for an expensive bag, sunglasses, jacket, or trainers (sneakers) to be taken when someone is robbed, and if you happen to be wearing something that the mugger wants, they may ask for it. But during the manic times of the riots, when gangs and hooded masked youths went feral, so did their boundaries pass past levels.

You can read about the riot here, in this news article.

Although the stripping of some victims was reported and was re-reported worldwide via the oracle that is the internet, the story was never thoroughly looked into again. Unlike the shopkeeper or the burnt-out family left homeless, this story was too difficult to report. Firstly nobody who was a victim came forwards to any media for, I guess, the shame and embarrassment. In the area where the mugging and stripping took place, the streets turned wild, and the police were overrun.

After some research, I have found five people reported being mugged/stripped to the police. But that was because they were left with almost nothing. But from my experience of the night, about twenty people were dealt with this crime. Let me make it clear that most were left in just their underwear. About three women I saw were naked, and two guys left butt naked. A third guy, perhaps a runner, was left in a jockstrap. It was a frightening and shameful crime to endure for all of them.

Many people commented on the reports wondering why people didn’t fight back, perhaps run or something? Let’s look at other attacks and muggings of those nights. Many people may have been left in their clothing but had broken noses, jaws, or badly beaten up, and sadly some lost their lives. When faced with a large group of hooded youths/men, you do not know your fate. Your only thoughts are how you can get yourself out of it, still alive and unhurt.

As I made my way home from work that night, it was still light. I knew things were bad in my area, but it has never been the safest and crime-free area. I’ve seen gangs out before, I know of the shootings, but I’ve lived in my neighborhood for eight years now. My job as a fitness coach means I am lucky enough to work in a fitness center near the local park, so I often cycle or walk to work.

I left my bike at work because I had read or been told that people had had their bikes taken. After all the main roads, the battlegrounds had been covered with glass, so it seemed pointless, and I wasn’t sure which way I wanted to take to get home. The park was empty, and a few people made a quick dash home from work. I only live a ten to 15-minute walk home. So I saw no huge risk.

There was a smell of smoke and a natural feeling of tension in the air that night, and I wanted to get home. My house is pretty prominent, and I wanted to check it was OK. I was halfway through the park, and several ‘rioters’ or thugs had passed me by, maybe a small group and one big group. I knew that they were cutting through the park. It was a quiet way away from the police, who had no control over the streets by then. There certainly wasn’t a police officer around the park. When the thugs went by, I was slightly concerned, but as with a nasty dog, you should never show fear, nor did I chat on my iPhone or have my earphones in.

My only concern was my favorite green pair of Adidas Originals green track pants, not that I thought they would want them, but along with my matching top, I certainly didn’t blend in. But nor was I dripping in furs and gold, but then, of course, these looters stole TVs, laptops, and high-end sportswear.

My first sign that there was trouble in the park was when I saw a guy in what looked like beach shorts or something, its summer and a park, but it wasn’t that warm, but then you do see runners bare-chested at times, but then he wasn’t running and had no shoes on. As I saw him pass me several meters away, he wore traditional boxers. I didn’t understand. My mind raced, and I thought perhaps his house was on fire, but it made no sense.

As I continued to walk, I saw something that made me confused. A naked guy dashed past me. I work in a gym, so I see a lot of naked bodies. I was in a locker room with many naked men only twenty minutes beforehand. But this was out of sorts. ‘No lie,’ I thought to myself. I didn’t understand. It was in the wrong direction and too far from my gym to be in trouble. Why would people have to run out naked that quickly?

I then continued to walk, slightly faster and wondering what the hell was going on. Then I saw another gang of thugs, about twenty. Fine, I thought. As I got closer, I saw one guy with a pair of trainers over his shoulder and another with a bunch of clothing ‘loot’ I thought it wasn’t. I didn’t know it was from that dude who just dashed past naked.

They got to me. The thugs surrounded me and stopped me, I knew I was in trouble, and it’s incredible, but beyond that circle of thugs, the rest of the world vanishes in your mind, and your number 1 goal is to get out. Quickly they demanded stuff, my bag with wallet and iPhone, and anything of value inside the rest was scattered to the ground.

So I thought that could be it. I wasn’t shocked when the thugs wanted my trainers, A. Because they are amazing, and I loved them, and B. Kids at HS used to steal other kids’ trainers. Things moved quickly, and it became clear it was a power thing, my Hoodie went, and they took my vest under it. I was so concerned about getting away as they had pulled out a knife I hardly noticed my track pants come off.

Perhaps I would be left alone like most of the other guys. My tight boxer briefs are designer, but if they wanted them, it was about power and domination.

Although I don’t hide the fact that I have a tiny penis, I am aware of its negative social standing but will shower nude, and I’ve always worn a speedo to swim.

I don’t know if they stripped that guy who dashed by or because they could see the simple sign of small genitals (A baggy pouch, unfilled out). Even though I was in black that couldn’t hide the baggy pouch of my underwear, they wanted them. Shameful and embarrassing for anyone, but the naked guy from earlier was OK hung. I am not. I’m toned and handsome if I say so myself, but I’ve never hung soft my whole life. My soft penis has been a hidden one, sitting lost in my pubes. I never showed soft, and although deeply embarrassing and shameful, I didn’t let it hold me back in sports and my work. I know people snigger in showers or stare, but I guess it’s part of being small.

But that night, several men lost everything and had to make their way home nude, and I guess they all just thought, ‘This one last thing and they will let me go,’ and I also didn’t even think what was happening. As I dropped my boxers, the biggest roar of laughter went up, and it continued for a short while, only silenced by the pulling out of cameras on their phones. I wasn’t allowed to cover myself, and to be honest. I dared not look down at my dick because it would make me aware of what they could see. I knew it wasn’t good.

They quickly moved off with my stuff, and I was left butt naked. I picked up what was worth picking up from my bag that had now gone. Lucky two guys, both in shorts, walked around. They were charming and ignored my clit sized dick, one kindly gave me his shorts as he had boxers on, and I made my way home. I was shaken and ashamed, but I also felt less worried as it had happened to other people, and there were hardly any people out by now, so I focused on getting home. After all, I was in my shorts and had my house keys.

I then saw a sobbing naked woman, not that hot looking, tubby but butt naked, and I chatted to her and explained my story, and she hers. Perhaps it was my inner gentleman, and I gave her my new shorts. It was strange I was butt naked. She smiled when she saw my penis and then, covering her big tits moved off to try to get home.

I then endured the short walk home, taking back street and having thugs take my pic. I’ve walked on nude beaches before, so I thought I was there.

Strangest day of my life, and now my local neighborhood knows that I have a tiny dick.

A true story.

 

The End.


 

*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Remember, even with limited editing. It doesn’t mean any possible major flaws in this story were fixed.

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