Stripped

No, not that kind of stripping. Not strip mining either.

Today, I feel like our lives are being stripped down to the essentials. And sometimes less, of course. But if you are like me – fortunate enough to:

  • Be healthy (so far)
  • Have your essential needs taken care of and
  • Be confident you can survive financially for a month or two (although that may not be enough)

Then this is a time for us to look at who we are and what really matters to us. I like to think that I do that regularly anyhow, but this is intense. If the outer things that I’ve come to rely on are stripped away, what’s left? Who am I then?

I am seeing people reaching out to each other in new ways. People sharing stories of courage, offering their presence, sharing their skills, and holding space for each other. Almost all of this on-line. People who’d never heard of zoom are holding classes and book clubs there. Some energy is shifting in the universe. I hope you’re experiencing that too.

**************

She was about to get dressed, standing halfway in the closet, moving hangars to see what felt right when she felt his hand on the back of her neck. “Stop,” he said.

She froze, not sure what he wanted, and waited.

“Do you have any on-line meetings today?” he asked.

She mentally ran through her calendar before saying, “No – no, Sir, not today. Really, I have some projects I’m working on, but nothing I really have to do today.”

“Then you don’t need clothes. Step away from the closet, please.”

He released her and she turned to him, eyes wide open in shock, “But – but -” and saw his eyebrows go up.

“Yes?” he asked, uber-polite, but with laughter beneath it. “Did you have a comment? An objection?”

“Um – um – no. Not actually an objection, you know not really even a comment, no, Sir. No clothes, no problem.” She was laughing now as she stepped away from the closet.

He smiled. “Good girl,” he said.

He started to turn away, but she stopped him, saying, “Oh, I do have – I have a couple of questions, Sir. Just – requests for information.”

“Of course you do, ” he said. “Go ahead, you may ask.”

“Um, you know, if I don’t wear some kind of bra, you’re going to have to look at me flopping around all day.”

“Yes.” he said. “That’s not even a question, but yes, I’m fine with that.” She bit her lip, shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Would you rather wear something? Maybe that open bra that just sort of lifts everything up?”

Eagerly, she nodded, “Yes, Sir! That would be good.”

He nodded. “What else?” he asked.

“Well, you know, I don’t know if you really want me to sit on all the furniture with my naked butt, you know…”

He laughed. “Also not a question. But I have no problem with that. You can rub your naked butt all over the furniture and it won’t bother me. But – would you feel better wearing a thong?”

“Yes! Yes, Sir, I really would.” She was feeling really proud of herself for having convinced him to make these accommodations for her. “Thank you, Sir.”

He nodded, but she noticed a twinkle in his eye and felt a touch of trepidation. “Of course, accommodations come at a price,” he said, and she thought, oh shit.

“You may wear the bra,” he said, “If you agree to wear nipple clamps 15 minutes out of every hour.” Her mouth fell open in shock, and he laughed at her dismay. Then he managed to stop long enough to add, “Oh, and the thong – it comes with a butt plug. We can play it by ear in terms of what size and how long it stays in. So you find the open bra and thong and I’ll pick the toys.” He grinned, “Feel better now?”

She was speechless. She knew she looked ridiculous, standing their with her mouth open. She closed it. And opened it again, “Sir -” but she didn’t know where to go with it. So she just stood there, naked, waiting. She knew he was enjoying this way too much.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Clover clamps or the ones with bells? The bells would be fun – then you could jingle when you walk.”

“Sir,” she said, half-laughing, half whining.

“And the medium butt-plug?” When she shook her head he quickly suggested, “Oh, you want to go ahead and take the large one? Cool. Good choice.”

“Sir…” she said plaintively,

“Yes?” He waited, but she just didn’t know what to say. She had backed herself into this corner and she had no idea how to get back out of it.

And just as she despaired and began to resign herself to nipple clamps, with all the bells, and the butt-plug, he said, “Ohhhhh – wait, are you trying to tell me that you really just want to be naked?”

“Yes, Sir!” she said, eagerly, more relieved than she could say.

“Oh,” he said, “I see. Well. You sound like you’d be happy to stay naked now. Is that right?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, laughing as she realized how smoothly he had walked her into this.

“Well, maybe if you ask me nicely,” he said, and he was almost laughing himself. “Kneel first.”

Obedient, and happy to do it, she knelt the way she knew he liked. “Please, Sir, may I just hang out naked today, floppy tits and all?”

He laughed, “Yes, baby, you may. I’m glad that it doesn’t take a whole lot to make you happy.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, “me too.”

11 thoughts on “Stripped

  1. Great thoughts Olivia, yes I have started to see people supporting each other. Of course, we are behind you in the impacts, but things ard rapidly escalating.

    Love the story, this was a fun read. She sure walked into his trap lol

    Hugs
    Roz

    Liked by 1 person

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