Interactive Story - Greg's Naked Nightmare - Part 1 (Patreon)

Welcome to my newest interactive story. Each section of the story will conclude with a choice and you, my lovely patrons, will get to pick what happens next. That means that even I don't know what is going to happen in this story, so we get to be surprised (and hopefully entertained) together.

I will likely be aiming to do two updates a week with voting options, but it may sometimes just be one a week depending on his busy life is. Some parts may be shorter than others, but I'm sure you'll manage.

The story will be a patreon-exclusive, meaning only you lot get to vote on it. I will post the story when completed elsewhere, but for now this is for your eyes only and I hope you enjoy it.

So now, on we go with...

Greg's Naked Nightmare - Part 1

“I’m never drinking again!”

Gregory Fairweather, or just Greg to his friends, had first uttered that line one morning when he was sixteen. It was one he had repeated on a fairly regular basis for the four years since and one that most assuredly ran through his head again as he began to awake.

Consciousness was returning in gradual increments. First had been the slight awareness that he even existed, highlighted by the headache and nausea that signified another hungover morning. Next had been the cold, wrapping around every inch of him, not exactly freezing, but definitely colder than was comfortable. Next followed wetness. Thankfully not the wetness that came from loss of bladder control that had embarrassed him on various occasions before, more just a general feeling of wetness beneath him.

The next moment was the one that really shocked him awake, the feeling of bare skin against grass… lots of bare skin! His eyes shot open as he raised his head and glanced down at himself, his sudden fear fully realised before him as he saw himself naked.

“Fuck!” he gasped as he sat up, feeling the dewy grass beneath his hands as he pushed himself into a sitting position. It wouldn’t be the first time he had woken up outside. Parties at his house could get wild and passing out in the garden wasn’t entirely unusual, but doing so naked absolutely was. Then came the truly horrible realisation. “Where the fuck am I?” he asked, his mouth working ahead of his brain as the question actually sunk in. Naked, outdoors, with no idea where he was. He allowed himself a brief flash of hope that this nightmare scenario was literally just that – a nightmare – but it was soon shattered by the cool breeze and throbbing headache that grounded him in the harsh reality.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Greg muttered to himself as he stood up to look around, instinctively covering up his dick as he did so.

Greg was an attractive young man. He was certainly no model or adonis, just a typical twenty-year-old who still held the beauty of youth and the healthy metabolism that somehow stopped his party lifestyle from showing ion his physique. Far from being muscular, his chest bore the slight bulge of potential pecs while his stomach was pleasantly flat, though bulged a little when he sat down. Much like the rest of his body, his dick was average – more a case ‘perceived average’ at six-and-a-half inches rather than the actual ‘statistical average’ for the country. He kept his dark bush trimmed short and neat, though he wasn’t really sure why. He was pathologically shy about his body so nobody would ever really see it, especially considering his non-existent sex life.

Greg often found himself described by girls as ‘cute’, which was annoying when his friends would often be described as ‘hot’ or ‘sexy’ or ‘handsome’. No, Greg was just cute. Light brown hair always perfectly in place, dark brown eyes that gave his expressions a softness that really contributed to his ‘cuteness’ and a smile that was infectious. He had dabbled in the past with facial hair in an attempt to actually look his age or older, annoyed at constantly being asked if he was the little brother of one of his friends, yet it had just looked weak and patchy, forcing him to revert to the clean-shaven youthful look.

Both hands clasped desperately over his shrivelled cock as he frantically looked around. He was stood on a perfectly groomed lawn, his bare feet feeling the short, wet blades between his toes as he searched for any indication of his location. The lawn was expansive, likely either a sizeable garden or potentially a park, surrounded on all sides by trees and shrubs. Greg didn’t know which was worse, being in a stranger’s garden or being naked in a public park.

The sky was still slightly murky, the sun only just beginning to illuminate it as Greg staggered one way then the other, caught in his indecisiveness over which way to go. It was a common problem he had, often finding himself paralysed when forced to choose. He sometimes wished there was somebody to do it for him, some mysterious power that could guide him when mired by indecision, but that was a futile hope and right now he knew he was on his own.

Spotting a path that led between some of the trees, Greg hurried over to it, still keeping himself covered despite seemingly being alone. He started following the narrow, winding path but stopped as the area before him opened up into an even more expansive space. He could see a large gate stood between two large stone pillars, one half of which stood open. Stretching either way from the pillars was a high wall, easily ten foot tall, accentuated every few metres with a cut-out section filled in with large, ornamental wrought-iron fencing.

Just inside the gate was a large paved area, a circular brick-paved path with a raised flower bed in the middle, a sign sat in the centre baring the name ‘Wyndham Park’. Greg gasped as he saw it. He knew the name of the park, as well as vaguely where it was. Aside from not knowing the exact route home from it, he was shaken by the realisation this was no quick jog home, he was literally on the other side of the city, in the affluent area called Kingswood Heights. Even in a car, it was twenty minute journey at least from here, yet he was stood there, cowering naked behind a shrub with the sun rapidly rising and no transport beyond his own bare feet.

“Fuck!” he gasped. “Oh my fucking god,” he gasped as he moved back, leaning against a tree, desperately trying to remember what had happened the night before, as if figuring it out would magically transport him home. He was shaken from his thoughts by a tennis ball suddenly bouncing past him.

A dog suddenly appeared chasing the ball excitedly, flying past him to retrieve it. It was only once the small white mutt had caught its prey and turned to run back to its human that it spotted Greg. It barked, immediately dropping the ball.

Panicked that the dog’s owner was about to follow it, or at least come to investigate the reaction, Greg quickly scurried round to the opposite side of the tree, the dog continuing its uproarious noise.

“Ugh, it’s too fucking early for squirrels!” a man’s voice said. “Come on, ya daft mutt!”

Greg took a deep breath, not even realising he had been holding it as he heard the dog and its human walking away. He had barely gotten started and already been nearly caught. It was horrifying. His heart was pounding, his chest heaving as he panted, his palms sweaty… and his dick was rigid. “Fuck!” Greg said, apparently the word of the day, as he looked down at the unexpected erection. He was literally living out the worst scenario he could imagine and he was aroused.

“Fucking bastards!” he muttered as he ran through the possibilities. He and his friends were fond of pranking each other – in fact the entire situation may just be one of their pranks taken to an extreme – but one of the pranks that popped up now and then (pun intended) was slipping a Viagra into someone’s drink. While the pill wasn’t a guaranteed instant erection, despite the way the media portrayed it, the unfortunate recipient would usually have enough sexual thoughts of lingering horniness to allow the drug to turn a slight stiffening into a raging erection. Greg figured that had to be it, a pill slipped into one of his many drinks the night before.

Moving back to peer out once again, the dog walker was gone, but it suddenly occurred to Greg that being caught may have actually been a blessing. Humiliating as it would be to expose himself to a stranger, at least then he could ask for help. He heard a bark further into the park and figured the man was still close enough by to be a genuine option, yet he found himself torn, as always, over what to do.

He could run after the man, expose himself and ask for help. He could dash out the gate while nobody was around and try to figure out a way home. He could just hide, and hope that if this was a prank by his friends, that they would be along to rescue him soon. All good options, yet all terrible options, but he needed to choose!

For part 2 click here