So, I’d just joined the drama club. I’ve always had a thing for acting, and it seemed like a fun move at the time. Since I’m a pretty big guy, tall and more robust than most of the other members, the directors decided I’d be perfect for this "monster" role they had in mind. I had to be covered in bright red body paint with black tribal lines all over, wearing nothing but a basic loincloth.

They told me to come in on a Saturday afternoon, a time when the school is mostly empty and only a few clubs are hanging around to work. I was supposed to meet the makeup crew in the dressing room. When I got there, I realized the crew was just five girls: two were a year younger than me, two were my age, and one was a year older. I only really knew two of them from class, but man, all five were gorgeous.

They explained that they had cans of professional body paint for the red base and the lines, and they were going to diy the loincloth out of some brown fabric. The plan was to do a full "test run" to see how the paint looked and practice the tribal patterns so we wouldn't waste time on opening night. I honestly thought they’d just paint my arm or something to check the color.

I was wrong.

They asked if I could take off my shirt and pants since they needed to see how the paint sat on my skin. I was a bit caught off guard, but I figured, hey, I’m going to be in a loincloth anyway, might as well get used to it. Even though I’d been to the beach in tiny swim trunks before, being in a small, private room with five girls who were clearly having the time of their lives was pretty intimidating.

About 40 minutes in, after a lot of whispering and giggling while they painted my arms and legs, things took a turn. One of them looked at me and said, "Hey, sorry if this is bold, but it’s actually better if you just take off the boxers too."

I was totally confused. The others started chiming in, explaining that my underwear was "too absorbent" and the paint would "permanently ruin the fabric." Looking back, it was such a ridiculous, flimsy excuse, and I should’ve just laughed it off. But in that moment, with my nerves through the roof and five girls insisting it was completely necessary I just panicked.

"Oh, yeah... thanks for the heads up," I muttered, while my brain was basically screaming.

I dropped my boxers, and the room went dead silent. All five of them were just staring at my crotch. A few of them turned bright red, and I’m pretty sure I turned as red as the paint they were using. I awkwardly asked them to keep going, and they did, though they were a lot quieter after that. It was the first time I’d ever been naked in front of anyone, and being a guy, I couldn't exactly hide the fact that the situation was making me... well, hard.

They spent about two and a half hours painting all around me. They were professional enough not to touch anything sensitive, but I was still standing there buff for the duration. One girl even took a bunch of photos on her phone, claiming she needed them to "reference the patterns" for the actual show. I felt like I couldn't really say no at that point, though I spent the next few weeks praying those photos never left her gallery and it seems they didn't, because I never heard anything about it from anyone else. If she showed them to other girls, they were discreet.

When opening night finally rolled around, the process was totally different. They didn't make me get naked; instead, they had me wear the loincloth with plastic wrap underneath to protect it. I realized right then that we could have done that the first time.

After the play, my relationship with the girls was... fine? We’d give each other a polite "hey" in the hallways. One of them tried to be a bit more friendly and chatty, but it never really went anywhere. Still, I’ll never forget the Saturday I spent two hours painted red and completely exposed in a dressing room.