As I posted earlier in this thread, I've always wanted to do a stress test wearing just a jockstrap, but I've never had an opportunity to do so. That opportunity finally came a few weeks ago. Here's how it went.
The morning of the test, I followed the plan that I had thought about for a long time. I wore a lightweight sweatshirt and some heavy jeans with just a jockstrap under it all as my underwear. I brought with me a small towel that I would use to mop up any sweat after the test. And rolled up inside the towel was a pair of light green running shorts (Soffe ranger panties). They are extremely short, lightweight and see through except for an inner brief liner. But I had previously cut out the inner brief from these shorts, making them now fairly obscene, especially with just a jockstrap underneath. Believe me when I say that without the liner, you see everything!
As I drove to the testing site, I thought about my options. If I was brave enough, I would take my towel with me, but deliberately leave the shorts in my car. That would force the issue and I would have to run in my jockstrap. Either that or run in my jeans, go out to the car to retrieve the shorts, or they might cancel the test entirely (not likely). But I didn't want any of those things. I wanted to do this in my jockstrap.
And if I got to the testing site and suddenly had cold feet, I could take the shorts in with me and run in them. If I did, they would still have a nice view of my bare, jockstrapped ass through the thin material of the unlined shorts. Not the jockstrap-only test that I really wanted, but still exciting.
My decision: Go for broke and leave the shorts in my car. I nervously walked into the testing site, checked-in and took a seat in the very busy waiting room. I was now fully committed to my plan.
After a short wait, a young black man called me in from the waiting room and took me to the testing room. He introduced himself (I'll call him Mark, not his real name) and told me that he's the technician that will do my stress test. He was a good-looking, athletic black man with a laid-back and very friendly personality. He spent a minute or two confirming who I was, why I'm there, why I'm having the stress test, etc. He then began to tell me how the test will be done.
At one point he told me to empty my pockets, saying that it's more comfortable running without anything in them, and I wouldn't want anything to fall out during the test. That's when I told him that I brought running shorts to change into. "That's great, you'll be more comfortable that way," he said before telling me to go ahead and get changed.
I began to undress, removing my shoes, shirt and jeans. While I did this, he remained in the room and continued to tell me more about the test. Now down to just my jockstrap (a white Omtex brand with a 1" waistband), I went to retrieve my shorts from the rolled-up towel that I brought. "No shorts," I shockingly announce. "What happened to them? I know they were in my towel. Did they fall out at home? Are they on the floor in my garage? Or maybe they fell out in my car? Or could they be laying on the sidewalk in front of your building?" It was an acting scene worthy of an oscar.
"Don't worry about it," Mark said. "You can still do the test. You can put on your jeans and do it that way. You'd be surprised how many people don't plan ahead and end up doing that. But it won't be as comfortable as wearing your shorts, especially toward the end of the test when you're running faster."
"No, I really don't want to run in my jeans," I mumbled back.
"The other option," he continued, "is to do the test in your underwear. We've had people do that in the past. Not many, but a few. Enough that it's not all that unusual. Honestly, if it were me and I was faced with the same choice, I would do it in my underwear!"
At that point I was encouraged and a bit shocked that Mark was going along with the plan. Maybe what I was about to do wasn't all that unusual afterall. Or maybe he was eager to watch me do the test in my jockstrap.
"You do see what I'm wearing, right?" I asked, making sure that he realized I was only wearing a strap.
"Yes, and I think what you've got on right now is all you really need," he answered. "The only rule we have is that your genitals must be covered," he continued, "so some kind of underwear is required. You can't be nude."
Then I remember that he made a few comments that were funny and a bit embarrassing at the same time. Embarrassing because he was drawing even more attention to how exposed I was standing there in my jockstrap.
"The way you're poured into your jock," he continued, "it leaves nothing to the imagination and it certainly doesn't hide the fact that you're male. But from what I can see, your genitals are covered. And it doesn't matter to me that your backside is exposed as long as the important parts up front are covered. So technically, we're following the rules and you're ready to go if you want to."
He stopped at that point to let all of that sink in. It seemed that he was trying hard to convince me that it was really OK to do the test in my jockstrap. Little did he know that I didn't need any convincing.
I told him that I was OK doing the test this way if he was. I was instructed to sit down on the exam table so he could attach the 10 leads to prepare for the test. Once I was ready (I also put my shoes back on), he stood me up and carefully walked me over to the treadmill, making sure that none of the leads were removed.
Now I'll give you two different endings to this story. One ending that really happened, and the other, my fantasy of how I would have liked it to end.
I carefully stepped onto the treadmill, still wearing only my jockstrap and shoes. Mark issued some final instructions and began the test, starting the treadmill at a slow walk. Following the protocol, the test continued into different stages, with each stage lasting a couple of minutes. Each time we entered a new stage, the treadmill got progressively faster and the incline increased. Throughout the test, Mark was monitoring my BP along with my other vitals. It took about 12 minutes, but I finally reached my target heart rate and the test was completed.
Unfortunately, that was the fantasy ending.
Here's what really happened. As I was just about to step onto the treadmill, Mark suddenly told me to wait while he looked for something in the cabinets lining the walls of the room.
"I just remembered that we might have something that you can wear," he said as he checked the contents of each cabinet. He quickly found what he was after, a pair of light blue disposable shorts.
"There, I think these will fit you," he said as he held them up for me to see. "It might be better if you put these on," he continued. "Once in a while someone will come into this room to get some supplies they need and we don't want to shock them by seeing you like this."
I didn't really have any choice but to put on the shorts. Since they fit me OK, I couldn't argue that I'd have trouble running in them. And I figured that I'd be labeled as some kind of weirdo perv if I refused to wear them. After pulling the shorts on, I stepped onto the treadmill and he conducted the test as I described above. But the disappointing reality is that I was wearing disposable shorts over my jockstrap!
Overall, it was a worthwhile attempt at something that I've wanted for some time now. It wasn't 100% successful, but I got very close. I would have succeeded if it weren't for those darn disposable shorts. But I'd do it all again if I could.