Meghan, at a riverside restaurant

Aunt Rita tells you about Meghan. A nice local girl around your age. Real smart and pretty, probably destined for bigger things than sticking around the countryside her whole life. You thought she sounded really compelling, especially since Meghan hadn’t been very interested in any of the guys who grew up here... You had the just the right amount of big city exposure that Rita thought you’d be a natural match.

Meghan wasn’t one of the girls that had seen you around the farm, since she isn’t a gawker like some of the other girls Rita told you about. This would be a completely blind date… so you agreed with Rita’s suggestion that you invite Meghan out to the nicest restaurant in town, and heard back through Rita that Meghan had a day and time in mind, and she would meet you there.

Rita loaned you her convertible to take out that evening. You wore some cologne and tried to thread the needle in terms of classy vs country by wearing a nice dress shirt but with jeans. You felt in a great mood, maybe just because of the wind in your hair and the excitement of meeting a local girl, but maybe there was something special in the air.

It was a pretty long drive into town, but it ended up being worth it. Just on the outskirts was the bougie restaurant that Rita sold you on. You were shocked at how charming of a place it actually was, now seeing it for yourself. All outdoor seating, wrought iron furniture on stone pathways, surrounded by tree canopy and old wooden buildings serving as the kitchen. But the best part was the whole thing was perched over a loud babbling creek and working vintage water-mill along a waist level stone fence for fantastic rustic views. What a place!

Fortunately you had reservations, because the place was full. Meghan hadn’t arrived yet, but the hostess brought you back to your table, right by the water mill.

“Best seat in the house, in my opinion” the hostess tells you. Quickly turning into a history lesson about this place. The hostess herself was a beautiful young woman your same age. It felt like there was a little twinkle in her eyes, and enthusiasm for telling you about the restaurant's backstory. You certainly enjoyed hearing her tell these tales.

You stand up to more closely inspect the water wheel as the hostess details the mechanics of its operation. You turn to listen intently to what you’re being told, while absent mindedly letting your hand run along the rotating wheel to feel the texture of the wood and dripping cool water.

While the hostess continues to give you a background story, you feel a small snag... You ignored it at first, allowing her to continue uninterrupted, until you started to feel your shirt sleeve being pulled tightly. With alarm, you look over and find that your sleeve has got snagged on some splinter or nail, and the shirt is already being wound up pretty tight by the spinning action of the wheel.

“Oh no, did you get caught?” she asks calmly.

“Yeah…” you say nervously, attempting to smile as you speak… “Does this happen a lot? What should I do?”

“I don’t know, this has never happened before. Let me ask somebody” the hostess says only just beginning to register that you were actually unable to get free.

The hostess quickly walks away leaving you alone as your shirt pinches you arm, and you are **** to pull it in from your sleeve.

“Well this shirt is ruined now” you thought to yourself, letting out a chuckle as you notice people beginning to watch your situation.

You did your best to laugh it off and make it seem like it was no big deal, as you unbuttoned your shirt so you could use both your hands to battle this thing. Worst case you imagined you would strip out of the shirt and be able to untangle it after-the-fact. a momentary embarrassment, and hopefully an interesting story for your date.

You climb up onto the stone wall, pulling on your shirt to no avail. You aren’t able to get any progress on untangling your shirt while you keep losing more and more. You naively stick your foot up against the wheel and pull with all your strength in an attempt to either stop the wheel from spinning, or free your shirt, but the inertia was greater than you expected, and it was clearly hopeless.

You grunt as the wheel keeps spinning and you pull your leg back, only to find that it was stuck. You look with horror to see that your jeans have caught on some part of the waterwheel now as well, and your shirt and pant leg were both being pulled off.

“Ahhhhhh” you yelled out in alarm, now seeing yourself in a dangerous situation. At this point it would be better to lose your shirt and pants rather than be torn apart by this mindless contraption.

You barely pull the bottom of your pant legs over your feet before the wheel cinched them down. You lose your shoes and socks in the process though, as they fall into the river below. People are standing up from their tables and rushing over to help you get out of your clothes.

You slip your arm out from the last sleeve of your shirt, watching it get sucked away into the darkness while you frantically try and slide out of your pants while balancing on top of the stone wall. Your heart is racing as you feel your pants tugging you away towards mechanical doom… but you triumphantly pop out in time.

You stand there in your underwear, embarrassed but relieved. You wonder how you would possibly explain this to your date if she showed up and saw you like this. That wasn’t really of the same scale of importance as your survival though you think to yourself, as you wipe the sweat from your forehead and hop down the wall. The only important thing right now was that you made it.

As you think this thought and relax against the wall, you feel an unexpected tug from behind you.

You look behind you and see that your underwear is being cinched tightly by the wheel, sending adrenaline through your body and renewed gasps from the crowd. It must’ve also caught on something when you were struggling to get your pants off.

Instead of just ripping them off, the **** of the mill wheel was cinching the elastic in your underwear into a tighter and tighter knot. Restaurant staff were in a panic, trying feverishly to untether the fabric from the wheel, as it the elastic clamped down tighter and tighter around your waist. A crowd of male staff were grunting as they fought to stop the wheel, and waitresses were climbing all over you grabbing at your underwear, in an attempt to relieve the pressure.

There was no way to even slip out of your underwear, it was so tightly wound around your waist. The pain was incredible as you grip the stone wall behind you facing the other tables watching in horror as the staff was seemingly unsuccessful at stopping the wheel. Your body is covered in sweat and all your muscles are bulging against the bodies of these tiny high school summer-job girls that are trying to rip away your underwear.

You close your eyes in pain, tears forming in their corners, when you begin to hear the joyous sound of fabric tearing.

Small tears start forming at first as fabric frays across widening gaps. Rather than being embarassed by the new developing holes exposing your most intamate skin, you couldn't be happier. Small holes start turning into longer shreds, quickly turning into tears racing across every surface, making a song of shredding as they rapidly reveal your last guarded bits of manhood.

You roar out in exhaustion and pain just as your underwear violently explodes into shreds and is quickly spun away into the internal working of the wheel. You stand there gloriously naked, but alive! You are glistening with sweat, panting heavily, and flexing every muscle in your body as you tightly grip the stone wall behind you... The girls climbing all over you fall to the ground around you. You are grateful to be alive, and as a result, you aren’t particularly concerned by your flagrant public nudity in this moment. Eyes still closed, you try and catch your breath and revel in the sensation of being here in this moment, and surviving.

You feel the cool still air against your sweaty skin for a moment and open your eyes upon hearing the sound of approaching footsteps. You are briefly startled that your glistening bare body is the center of attention of the entire restaurant. Of particular note though, is a beautiful woman standing alone a few steps in front of you. She is holding her purse and staring wide-eyed in disbelief at your body splayed out, almost as if presented for her in particular. Her eyes are fixed below your waistline for some time before they drift upward and meet your gaze unexpectedly, causing her to blush in embarrassment.

You awkwardly stare at each other for a few moments, unsure how to best continue on from this point. The woman takes initiative given your collapsed state, walking forward and stretching out her hand to help you up.

“Hi, I'm Meg” she says slowly, smiling so wide that it's difficult to squeeze the words out of her face. Her cheeks are blushing so brightly that it looks like it hurts, but she hides her smile with her hand and continues: “You must be John…”