like she would any day of the week and pulled out a pair of panties. And then she stopped, still holding them in the air as she remembered Carlton’s instructions. Remove your clothes and spend the weekend meditating on this decision in the nude .
Margaret released the lingerie and let it fall back into the drawer. She glanced down at her body. Am I really going to lie around naked all weekend? How would he know?
He’d know. She didn’t know how, but he’d know. He’d read it on her expression.
She pushed the drawer closed and headed for the bathroom. Think of all the time you’ll save not having to pull your pants down…
After using the toilet, she took a quick shower and headed for the kitchen. It felt odd, disconcerting, to roam around her apartment naked. She didn’t want to spend the day in darkness, so she managed to tip the blinds so light still filtered in, but anyone walking by outside couldn’t see her. At least she hoped.
Coffee was first on the agenda. As soon as she had her first steaming cup in hand, she flopped onto the cool leather couch. The smooth surface felt refreshing against her bare skin as she settled back against the armrest, swinging her legs up and planting her feet on the cushion. I look ridiculous .
Margaret had been with a few other partners before Lori. She’d even had a few experiences with other Dommes since Lori. However, none of them had ever requested she remain naked, especially not alone in her home.
Trying to ignore that aspect of her obedience, she took a fortifying drink of coffee and set the mug on the coffee table.
She’d been aware she was submissive for almost as long as she’d known she was bisexual. In her teenage years she’d read everything she could get her hands on concerning sexuality, dominance and submission.
Once she graduated from high school and moved out of her parents’ home to attend college, she’d been free to explore more than her sexuality. She’d joined GSA clubs and dated several women over the next four years. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been attracted to men. She noticed them, some more than others. But it was simply easier to date women, less complicated.
As for submission, the girlfriend she’d had her sophomore year had taken her to her first club. Margaret shouldn’t have been shocked. But in those days, she hadn’t had the availability of rampant Internet articles to explore.
It turned out her girlfriend was also submissive, so their relationship didn’t last long. But in those first few visits to a BDSM club, Margaret’s eyes had been opened wide. Another woman she’d met at the club had flirted with Margaret mercilessly. As soon as Margaret had broken up with her girlfriend, she began her first experience with submission.
It was easy. For the first time in her life, Margaret felt like she was being true to herself. By day, she attended class and worked hard to earn her accounting degree. She was an excellent student and had a good rapport with her professors. Anyone she spoke to touted her good business sense and believed she would make an excellent employee for any company willing to hire her after graduation.
By night, Margaret preferred to let the stress of the day’s events slough off her skin by turning herself over to the will of her Domme.
Why was she submissive? She wondered if she was wired differently from other people. What made a woman want to be controlled by another? There was probably some dark, hidden reason for her fetish that lay in the fucked-up events of her childhood, but she’d never bothered to seek a counselor to explore the possibility.
Undoubtedly her father had caused her to become submissive. The man was domineering toward both Margaret and her mother. He ruled a tight ship and didn’t take any lip from the women. Hell, the fucked-up church her family attended was so patriarchal it had made her want to retch growing up. She’d never fit in.
Had her father’s insistence on her
Margaret released the lingerie and let it fall back into the drawer. She glanced down at her body. Am I really going to lie around naked all weekend? How would he know?
He’d know. She didn’t know how, but he’d know. He’d read it on her expression.
She pushed the drawer closed and headed for the bathroom. Think of all the time you’ll save not having to pull your pants down…
After using the toilet, she took a quick shower and headed for the kitchen. It felt odd, disconcerting, to roam around her apartment naked. She didn’t want to spend the day in darkness, so she managed to tip the blinds so light still filtered in, but anyone walking by outside couldn’t see her. At least she hoped.
Coffee was first on the agenda. As soon as she had her first steaming cup in hand, she flopped onto the cool leather couch. The smooth surface felt refreshing against her bare skin as she settled back against the armrest, swinging her legs up and planting her feet on the cushion. I look ridiculous .
Margaret had been with a few other partners before Lori. She’d even had a few experiences with other Dommes since Lori. However, none of them had ever requested she remain naked, especially not alone in her home.
Trying to ignore that aspect of her obedience, she took a fortifying drink of coffee and set the mug on the coffee table.
She’d been aware she was submissive for almost as long as she’d known she was bisexual. In her teenage years she’d read everything she could get her hands on concerning sexuality, dominance and submission.
Once she graduated from high school and moved out of her parents’ home to attend college, she’d been free to explore more than her sexuality. She’d joined GSA clubs and dated several women over the next four years. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been attracted to men. She noticed them, some more than others. But it was simply easier to date women, less complicated.
As for submission, the girlfriend she’d had her sophomore year had taken her to her first club. Margaret shouldn’t have been shocked. But in those days, she hadn’t had the availability of rampant Internet articles to explore.
It turned out her girlfriend was also submissive, so their relationship didn’t last long. But in those first few visits to a BDSM club, Margaret’s eyes had been opened wide. Another woman she’d met at the club had flirted with Margaret mercilessly. As soon as Margaret had broken up with her girlfriend, she began her first experience with submission.
It was easy. For the first time in her life, Margaret felt like she was being true to herself. By day, she attended class and worked hard to earn her accounting degree. She was an excellent student and had a good rapport with her professors. Anyone she spoke to touted her good business sense and believed she would make an excellent employee for any company willing to hire her after graduation.
By night, Margaret preferred to let the stress of the day’s events slough off her skin by turning herself over to the will of her Domme.
Why was she submissive? She wondered if she was wired differently from other people. What made a woman want to be controlled by another? There was probably some dark, hidden reason for her fetish that lay in the fucked-up events of her childhood, but she’d never bothered to seek a counselor to explore the possibility.
Undoubtedly her father had caused her to become submissive. The man was domineering toward both Margaret and her mother. He ruled a tight ship and didn’t take any lip from the women. Hell, the fucked-up church her family attended was so patriarchal it had made her want to retch growing up. She’d never fit in.
Had her father’s insistence on her
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