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Girlfriend in Control

By: jdwhite1315



Years ago when I was in college I was home visiting my folks over the summer. They had gone out for the whole day and evening and I had their place to myself. My girlfriend at the time (who was at home with her folks in another city) thought it was great, and that I should feel free to "expose" myself to new opportunities while they were out. My folks have a screened-in pool and a secluded backyard so I was pretty sure what she had in mind (and since I am a somewhat-reluctant exhibitionist, I was hoping she had some good suggestions).

As soon as they left I called her from my folks' portable phone (this was before cellphones) and she told me to strip, which I did gladly. She had come up with a list of activities for me, which basically consisted of me doing things around the house naked. It was easy to get the mail because the mailbox is just outside the front door, so all I had to do was lean out the front door--there was a low wall in front of the door so even in bright daylight the odds of being seen were very slight. She had me spend time in front of the open fridge so I could feel the cold on my naked body, and she had me frequently look at the pile of clothes I had stripped off (and other clothes) to remind me that I wasn't allowed to cover myself with any of it. She kept reminding me that I would do whatever she told me to do, and that she was sitting at her home comfortably dressed while I was running around naked, and how I would remain that way for as long as she wanted me to. With every reminder I was getting more turned on, which of course was why I was agreeing to it.

However, as the afternoon drew on, she told me to grab a bathing suit and towel and head out to the pool. The towel I understood but the suit didn't make sense since she had seemed intent on keeping me nude. I grabbed my favorite pair of trunks and a towel and walked towards the back door that led to the patio and pool area. Once I slipped the suit on she asked if it felt good to be covered again, since I had been kept "bare-assed naked" (she used that phrase a lot that day) for several hours at that point. I said it did, that I had been embarrassed being kept unclothed so the suit felt wonderful. 

I opened the door and stepped on to the patio. As I did she told me to keep the door to the house open. Casually, she asked if there were any other towels or any clothes out on the patio. I looked around and told her no, that the only clothes out there was my suit and the only towel was the one in my hand (the patio was basically empty except for some patio furniture).

"I guess that means there are no clothes on the patio, since that suit is going back in the house," she said with a laugh. 

I told her I wasn't sure what she meant (of course I was, I just was so turned on my mind was turned off).

"Quit stalling," she replied. "The suit is coming off now, naked boy. Let's go, strip it off."

I tried pleading for a moment, but she said nothing. In my state it never occurred to me to say I would do it and then not (since she never would have known), so I gave-in: I untied the suit, pulling it off my hips (and over my erection), down my legs and then off my feet. I was standing naked on my folks' patio with my suit in one hand and the towel in the other. I told her when it was done.

"So you're now outside bare-assed naked with your only covering in your hands?" she asked/observed. "Well, then toss them both back into the house. First, the towel, please."

I did so, tossing the towel a few feet inside the door.

"Now, the suit. But, before you toss it, look at it. Remember how good it felt when it was covering you, how you weren't naked for the first time all day. And the last time all day. Now toss it in the house, and close the door."

All of her dirty talk was turning me on to a near breaking point, and so I did as she commanded (because, let's face it, at this point they were commands that I was dutifully obeying), shutting the door after the suit was safely back in the house.

"I can't believe you thought I'd let you tan and swim with your bathing suit on," she commented. "Doesn't seem like much fun for me. Here I am, in my house with my family all around, and I'm perfectly covered and decent. What good would it be for you to be covered and decent? My family keeps walking by and saying hi--can you imagine if your family could see you now? By the way, do you mind if I tell my family that I am keeping you stark naked, and that I have you outside without a shred of covering in sight?"

I begged her not to. My heart was pounding in my chest. There was little chance anyone could see me, but that didn't matter. She was right, having the suit on had been wonderful. I had loved what she was doing to me at first, but I had begun to feel like I had been naked for long enough. Stripping me of the bathing suit had been incredibly disheartening. The idea that the suit was only on the other side of the door was almost too much to bare (pardon the pun). 

"This was a great idea," she continued. "I see a lot more time with you in this attire when we get back to school. Maybe I'll keep you naked whenever you are in your dorm room. Wouldn't that be fun to study like that? Me, dressed in comfy sweats and you dressed in, well, nothing. Maybe we can invite a few of the girls from my dorm over for a study break? Wouldn't that be great? You could serve us drinks and food while we watch you in your birthday suit." 

How this had gone from some dares she had for me while home alone to a small CFNM party at my dorm was beyond me, although the fact I hadn't come yet from the sheer thought of it said a lot about the stamina of my 20-year-old self. But I was cracking. There was no way I could avoid coming if I kept standing there naked, and I didn't want to come yet since it would have broken the euphoria. I decided to put my suit back on (but not tell her about it)--that way whatever she said or told me to do I could handle without too much embarrassment. I approached the door so that I could quietly open it, reach in, and grab the suit.

Except the damn door knob wouldn't turn. 

My heart almost stopped. I tried it again. Nothing. I turned the knob with all my strength, figuring I'd find a way to fix the door if I broke the damn thing. 

The door didn't even budge, and by then I was no longer quiet about it.

"Hey, John, what are you doing?" she asked.

I told her nothing, that I was just overcome with embarrassment about being naked outside and needed to take a deep breath.

"Oh," she said, "that's funny, because it sounded like you were struggling with something more than your continued nudity. Like, maybe you tried opening the door... and it wouldn't open."

I said nothing.

"John," she continued, "did the door lock? Are you locked outside?"

I kept staring at the door.

Her voice had lost a bit of its edge as she began to realize that our fun was becoming much more serious.

"John, are you still there?"

I said yeah, I was here. And finally, I said yeah, the door must have locked when I closed it. I couldn't speak my next thought. So she did it for me.

"And now you are locked outside. In your birthday suit," she added, as though I needed the clarification. She sounded concerned. But then she figured it was part of the game.

"You're not really outside, are you?"

I told her I was.

"The door isn't really locked, is it?"

Again, affirmative.

"John, are you... are you really naked?"

I looked down. I wanted to tell her no, that I wasn't, that I'd been faking the whole thing, that I'd been wearing boxers the whole time, or that I hadn't stripped off the bathing suit. I wanted to tell her anything--anything but the truth: That I was (in her words) bare-assed naked, locked out of the house (since all the other doors and windows were locked), and that I was going to have to stay that way for the seven hours or so until my folks came home and found me that way. A proposition that I decided was more horrible than jumping in the pool, submerging to the bottom, and staying there until hell froze over. 

Finally, I told her yup, I'm very, very naked. I asked her if she remembered how we joked anytime we heard of someone forgetting to take their key when they went to the shower and getting locked out in their bathrobe. I told her that was me... minus the bathrobe.

I couldn't believe it. The whole thing had started safe and innocent, and I think we were both turned on by what she had been making me do (not like I wasn't a very willing participant). But this... this was bad. I had no choice. There was no one to call to come and help me. I couldn't even call my folks and ask them to come home... and more than that, I couldn't face them when they did. 

I told her I didn't know what I was going to do. The prospect of my folks finding me like this (many hours from now), and me having to explain how it happened, was impossible to imagine. They would never let me live it down, the story would get out to the rest of our family, and forever I would have to pay for this in one way or another. They might even get really angry. They might decide I was too immature for college (somehow I worked myself up to thinking they would stop paying tuition, even though that was blatantly ridiculous). 

My girlfriend hadn't spoken for a minute; finally, I heard her take a breath. (I would later learn that she had quietly brought herself to orgasm sitting alone in her kitchen when she finally accepted it was really true: I was really naked, really locked out, and really, really embarrassed.) 

"Can I ask you something?" she said. "Can I tell Sara?"

Sara was her best friend, whose room was down the hall from hers at school. I asked her why she needed to tell Sara.

"I love you," she said. "But I have to tell someone about this. I stripped you naked. I threatened you with more naked time back at school. That was all fun ([for her, I thought]). But this. I got my boyfriend naked outside his house. And now, that same boyfriend is locked outside. Locked outside naked." 

No, I told her, that would be as bad as my family finding out, since Sara would tell everyone at school. Then again (I did not verbalize this) if my girlfriend and I ever broke up, it would make the rounds at school anyway. No, I said more firmly, we need to figure out a plan for me.

"Because you're locked outside naked," she confirmed. She seemed to enjoy reminding me. "Are there any spare keys to your house around, maybe under a mat or in a plant near a door?"

No, I told her, no spare keys. And then I realized that wasn't exactly true. When I was younger my folks were close with one of our neighbors: Mrs. Lawson, who had a daughter a couple years older than me. She a cool mid-40s lady who always asked how you were doing and typically had a great sense of humor. Mrs. Lawson and my mom had given each other their spare keys years earlier. I explained this all to my girlfriend. 

"Is she still close with your folks?" she asked.

I said I didn't think so.

"Would she still have the key?" my girlfriend asked. 

I told her I couldn't ask because I didn't remember their phone number. 

"Well, is she home?" my girlfriend wanted to know.

I didn't know, I explained, since their house was diagonally across the street from ours. And why did it matter, I asked, since I was stuck in the back of the house...

"Maybe you should check if she's home," she suggested. "Can you see her house from the side of yours?"

Which is what found me, 20 seconds later, peeled flat against the side of my folks' house, staring diagonally across the street, trying to see if Mrs. Lawson was home (their was no Mr. Lawson, not in a long time). It felt odd using the house to cover myself.

The lights were on in their kitchen. The sun had been getting lower by that point and that much I could make out. I was fairly sure I could see a figure working by the kitchen window, but I wasn't positive.

Okay, I told my girlfriend, somebody is home. But how can I attract their attention to get them come over?

"You could move to the front of your house and try jumping up and down," my girlfriend suggested, the mirth in her voice barely contained. "Oh wow, I would love to see that. That would get the attention of most of the neighborhood, probably. Hey, do you know you've been naked for like five hours? Except for those two minutes you had your suit on. Whatever happened to that suit?"

She had left being sympathetic and was back to enjoying my predicament. I was still stuck, though, still naked, and still locked out. I stupidly asked my girlfriend so what next?

"It sounds like you're streaking the neighborhood," she said.

I didn't follow.

"You're at your house, locked out, bare-assed naked. Staying there means having your folks find you sometime tomorrow ([it would late that night, but she was going for dramatic]). Or, you could streak across the street, and see if cool Mrs. Lawson might help a nice naked boy from the neighborhood get back in to his little house so he might be able to cover his little naked tushy. Hell, "she continued, "Mrs. Lawson might even loan you some covering... though I'd really prefer if she didn't."

What am I supposed to, I asked her, run up and ring the bell?

"Yup, and when she asks who is it, tell her you're a Jehovah's Witness who lost his pamphlets when he lost his clothes."

I told my girlfriend at least some good would come from leaving the house: The portable's reception was already stretched to its limit, and I wouldn't be able to take the phone with. She wouldn't be able to join me for this exciting and terrifying part of my exposure.

"That's fine," she said. "I think I'll call Sara to check in. Oh, I can't wait 'till we get back to school. Your dorm room will have so much more space once we get rid of all your around the dorm clothes. Isn't it great, "she concluded, "you're gonna get to spend the next school year mostly naked?" Although she was mostly kidding (I hoped) she was clearly enjoying the idea.

"Run carefully," she said. "You wouldn't want to trip and fall, in your outfit." And with that, she hung up.

I clicked the phone off and dropped it in the grass. I couldn't tell if I felt more naked without her voice relishing the experience, but I certainly wasn't relishing what I was about to have to do.

Looking down, I found two large leaves (ironically from a fig tree). I held one in front of me and one behind me. Taking one last deep breath, I took off running, which was difficult with my arms fixed trying to cover me and my bare feet encountering every rock and stick in my folks' side garden. I broke through to their front yard and realized the sun was not so low that someone looking around would not notice a stark naked man running into the street. I thought about Mrs. Lawson and prayed she still had the key, and that she might give me some clothes, and that she would keep the incident to herself. As I crossed into her front yard I thought I heard a horn honk, but there was absolutely no way I was going to turn and look.

Seconds later I found myself out of breath on the Lawson's front stoop. I dropped the leaves to ring the bell, then proceeded to cover myself with my hands. 

"Who is it?" I heard through the front door.

I responded with Mrs. Lawson, it's John from across the street. I knew Mrs. Lawson had a good sense of humor, and that she would undoubtedly get a big kick out of the situation.

Unfortunately, I didn't really realize how good that sense of humor could be until I heard the next sentence.

"Oh, is it that very naked neighbor of mine I just saw streaking across the street? Because I had really been hoping to see more of him."

And with that the door opened, and I realized my exposure was far from over.

Girlfriend in Control Ch. 02



Standing in the doorway was Mrs. Lawson. She clearly had been casually hanging around the house, wearing an untied bathrobe over a tank-top and sweats.

I, on the other hand, was not-so casually standing completely and utterly stark naked on her front doorstep, my bare-ass directed at the street behind me as I attempted to preserve a shred of dignity by using both hands to cover my very naked groin. 

"My old eyes aren't what they used to be," she said. "Let me put on the light."

With a flick she turned on her front door light, which was directly above me. I was suddenly bathed in a spotlight, which illuminated my predicament for anyone who would choose that moment to look towards her front door (I still refused to look around and check if anyone else in the neighborhood was watching me).

I was blinded for a second, and almost raised my hands over my eyes... but didn't. Once my eyes had adjusted I took in the sight of Mrs. Lawson, who was smiling at me like the cat who had caught the canary. 'Old eyes' was not appropriate for her. Now in her mid-forties, Mrs. Lawson retained all the good looks that the neighborhood boys had fantasized about growing up (or at least I had fantasized about). She stood about 5'9" with medium-long brown hair, dyed a tint lighter, that framed a beautifully young face with a quick smile. The current status of her breasts was hidden by her loosened robe--as were her legs--but the body she used to show-off at neighborhood pool parties (typically at my house) was sensational: beautiful D-cups over a flat tummy, tight ass, and long tanned legs. A quick throb in my hands reminded me that none of these images were helping; the bikini-clad Mrs. Lawson of five years ago was only making me that much harder and making me more acutely aware of my nakedness.

"Why, John," she exclaimed, leaning gently on the doorframe. "I hardly recognized you, it's been ages since I've seen you without a shirt on. 

"You look good," she continued, almost licking her lips as she looked me up and down. "Although, I'm also having trouble remembering the last time I saw you without pants on. I don't think I can remember that happening. But, wait, that's not all, is it? I am searching my memory and I just can't think of a time I saw you without any underwear on. That's right, isn't it? You don't appear to be wearing any underwear. In fact, unless my old eyes are deceiving me, it looks like you are totally nude." She had raised her voice slightly at this last line (or maybe I only thought she did), and I cringed involuntarily.

I finally stammered the sentence I knew I'd have to say: I got locked out.

"Locked out?" she replied. "Well, that's terrible. I mean, it's annoying to be locked out if you're fully dressed, and slightly embarrassing if you're only partially dressed... but really, really terrible if you're totally nude." She did the up-and-down look thing again, her smile stretched wide and her body still blocking the doorway. "Well, John, how did that happen?"

I had an answer prepared that I had thought of right before I began streaking across the street. I told her my folks were away and I had decided to go swimming. As a laugh I had decided to go skinny dipping, and only realized the door had locked when I went back to try and grab a towel. 

"So, that's what you do for a laugh, huh?" she replied, quickly looking scornful. 

This conversation was going terribly, since I had hoped for absolutely no conversation--just to be let in and given some covering and the spare key. Instead, I was still totally naked, and worse, I was having to answer all her questions as she stood very covered while the spotlight of her front porch light shone down on me. I had nowhere else to go--the possibility that she still had that spare key was my only chance of getting home and covered before my folks returned.

For some reason I thought I was in trouble (which, of course, I was... hello! Naked on the neighbor's front porch...), so I blurted out that, actually, it had been a dare.

"A dare, huh?" she responded, smiling more now. "Now that's different. Who dared you to go skinny dipping?"

I told her it had been my girlfriend. That when I called and told my girlfriend I had the house to myself all day, she had dared me to swim and tan suit-less.

"But, she wasn't there. How would she know if you did all this?" Mrs. Lawson asked.

I chose to ignore her question for the moment and ask her for what I'd come for, if she still had the spare key. I tried to phrase it nicely, since a lot depended on her answer. However, she said nothing, just kept leaning with arms folded across her tank-top enclosed breasts taking in the naked guy in front of her. I felt like I stood there for hours, with only my hands for covering.

But not for long. "Oh c'mon, you can open up to me," Mrs. Lawson said. "How would she know? And, speaking of opening up, I think it's time you moved those hands. I mean, it's been fun looking at you all embarrassed and covering yourself, but I really want to see you with your dick pointing straight-up and your hands on your head. I mean, on top of the head on your shoulders... nothing should be covering the head down there." She greedily pointed at my groin.

I nearly came from the force of her words alone. Move my hands?! No way, I thought, no way could I give up my one last shred of covering. Yet, I knew in a moment I would have to do it--would have to completely expose myself to Mrs. Lawson who I had known since childhood. 

"Look, John," she said. "I like looking at you, and I'd really love to see your dick. But if you want to keep it covered up then we can keep on talking right here on the front porch until your folks start driving down the street. On the other hand, if you'd be so kind as to place your hands on top of your head right now... then we can continue this conversation in the privacy of my house. I can look for that key--which I'm pretty sure I still have--and maybe I can even find you a towel to wrap around that nude body of yours. So what do you say?"

I didn't say anything, because I couldn't. I did the only thing I could do: I took a deep breath, looked anywhere but at her or me, and slowly moved my hands away from protecting myself. I knew the instant my erection had become viewable when I heard her take a breath. That almost caused me to recover myself, but I remembered our deal, and moved my hands quickly to the top of my head. 

"Oh, John," she sighed, "it's lovely." 'Lovely' was probably a stretch, as I was only about seven or eight inches when rock hard (which, of course, I was), and I was bobbing up and down as I shook from my nervousness. 

"A deal is a deal," she said. I looked at her for the first time since exposing myself completely. She stood up from her leaning, and for a brief second I had a paralyzing fear that she would just close the door in my face. But then she stepped out onto the front porch with me.

She reached down and lightly grabbed my erection. I think she sensed I was about to blow, so she reached further down near the base and gave a good squeeze, effectively cutting off my orgasm. "Oh, yes," she said, "you should definitely come in my house."

She began pulling me into the house. "But don't come quite yet," she continued, "not yet. I have a few dares of my own you'll take care of for me."

I was pulled across the threshold of her doorway, and for the first time in many hours I was not stuck outside naked. But I was still completely naked. Mrs. Lawson reminded me of this as she let go of me to go close and lock the door behind us, taking a few moments to let her robe rub against my bare-ass, back, and legs. I didn't move my hands for fear she'd throw me out without key or covering, so I just remained pointed and bobbing into her living room.

"I think this is going to be a very good evening for me," she said, dragging her robe against my bare side as she came from behind me. "How it ends for you, John, still has to be seen." With the word 'seen' she again looked me over from top to bottom, still standing totally naked in her foyer with my hands on top of my head.

"So let's get started..."

(to be continued)



Girlfriend in Control Ch. 03



I stood now in Mrs. Lawson's brightly fit foyer, with the living room in front of me and the kitchen off to the left. I tried to remember the last time I'd been inside here, and I figured it had to be at least three years.

I didn't even bother trying to figure out the last time I had been inside her house while completely and totally naked, which was exactly what my current attire was (or, more accurately, wasn't). But there I was, without a stitch of clothing, and since my hands were on top of my head (at Mrs. Lawson's request/command), I had nothing covering my groin (or any other part of me). And Mrs. Lawson was definitely appreciating my exposure as she stood directly in front of me, clad in a bathrobe, tank-top, and sweats. She even wore sensible slippers to combat the cold of her tile floor--a coldness I was all too aware of due to my bare feet.

"You know, it's been a long time since I've had a man here," she said. "There are a bunch of odd jobs I kept meaning to get to... maybe I should get you to help? And the best part is that you wouldn't have to worry about your clothes getting dirty or sweaty since you aren't wearing any. I think we would really enjoy having a totally nude handyman for the evening!"

One word caught my attention. What did she mean by 'we'?

"Daphne should be home in a little bit," she replied. Daphne was her daughter, two years older than me. We had played together as kids, but by high school had only a passing acquaintance. An acquaintance that I realized was soon to get much more intimate. "I know she will just love seeing you." As before, with the word 'seeing' she took a moment to thoroughly look me up-and-down, an action that both humiliated and aroused me at once.

"But," she continued, "I think I should look for that key now." The key in question (I desperately hoped) was the spare key to my house--the only hope I had for getting back inside there before my folks got back from their day out. I had been equating that key with also getting some covering (as I was so incredibly tired of being naked), but now that I was in Mrs. Lawson's house I held out some hope she would offer me some. A hope that was dashed with her next sentence.

"It would be really embarrassing for you if I didn't have that key, since all of the clothes you have here in town are in that house. If I can't find it, why, you'd probably have to stay here all naked until your folks got home. Then I'd call to let them know you were here, since they might worry when they found the house empty. After that, I imagine they'd bring you some clothes to walk home in... or they might ask me to bring you over myself, which I would gladly do, walking you home in your birthday suit so they could see how naughty you'd been... or maybe they'd let me keep you for the rest of the summer!!" With that last possibility in mind Mrs. Lawson clapped her hands giddily like a young girl.

She stepped up to me, reaching her hand down to cup my testicles. As she gently rolled them between her fingers (and as I squirmed under her ministrations, breathing heavily once again), she continued her thoughts. "Oh, it would be such fun to play with these for the rest of the summer. Waking up in the morning, and then walking into the living room and playing with your balls. Or, going outside to water the lawn, holding the water hose in one hand while stroking your hose with the other."

I shuddered at her last comment, though I knew that soon I would be shuddering much more violently as I came all over her living room floor.

Mrs. Lawson sensed this, too, as with her other hand she repeated that little trick from earlier where she squeezed the base of my erection quickly hard enough to postpone my eruption.

She stepped away slightly, letting her nail gently scratch my scrotum as she let go. "Oh right, I forgot you probably would prefer not to be back outside totally nude, since that was where I found you. Remind me again how that happened." She acted as though she had no recollection, making it clear I had to relive the experience for her benefit.

I rehashed the story from earlier: My girlfriend had dared me to swim and tan suit-less since I had the house to myself. I walked outside naked, realizing I had forgotten to bring a towel with when I found the door had locked behind me.

"I wonder what she would say if she found out how it turned out for you," Mrs. Lawson said.

I muttered that she seemed to really enjoy it, actually. I realized my mistake the second I said it but I couldn't take it back.

"You were on the phone with her, weren't you? When you found yourself locked out totally nude," she surmised, a grin on her face. Portable phones were common at the time, their range known to extend beyond the house to porches and yards. "So, where did you leave her?"

I didn't understand, as my girlfriend was 'left' at her parents' house, in another town.

"No," Mrs. Lawson explained. "Like in a TV show: 'When last we left our heroine, she was on the phone, breathlessly enjoying the predicament of her boyfriend, who, because of her dares, was now locked outside totally nude.'" She had slightly lowered her voice for that performance, and even in my state I had to chuckle a little. This caused my erection to sway a bit, which caught Mrs. Lawson eye and caused her to lick her lips again.

Yes, I told her that my girlfriend knew I had been locked out, and knew that I couldn't stay there to wait for my folks, that we had a really cool neighbor who might have a spare key, and that it looked like that really cool neighbor (I kept repeating that phrase, hoping it would inspired some compassion from Mrs. Lawson) might be home.

"So, you left her at the point when you were about to streak the neighborhood, and right before you found yourself so very nude in a spotlight on my front porch."

She didn't say anything else for a second. Then, Mrs. Lawson turned and headed to the kitchen, I hoped to look for the key. For a moment I considered making a run for the nearest bathroom to find a towel, or even the nearest bedroom to grab a sheet, a shirt, or anything to cover with. I really, really hated still being naked. But I couldn't. All I kept picturing was Mrs. Lawson screaming and throwing me out of the house, and me being back outside naked with no key, no clothes, and no hope for covering. I didn't even move my hands (though my arms were starting to get tired), leaving my erection uncovered as I continued doing whatever I thought would make Mrs. Lawson happy enough to give me the key.

The she called for me. "John, please bring that cute nude body of yours into the kitchen."

I walked towards her voice, feeling ridiculous with my arms up. I kept trying not to look down, but a continual bobbing at the bottom of my peripheral vision and the cold feeling of tile frequently reminded me of my undressed state. I crossed into the kitchen and found Mrs. Lawson sitting at a small desk pushed up under the window. I stopped a couple feet away from her.

"John, I've got good news. I found your mom's spare key."

My heart nearly exploded. She could see the relief in my face, even if no other part of me appeared to have calmed down. 

"I will give it to you, but not yet. I love you being totally nude in my house, love watching your dick bounce up and down, love knowing I can cup your balls, or scratch your ass, or lick any part of you I want, since I have all this immediate access to your body. I'm having more fun than I've had in years and I won't give that up yet.

"But," she continued, looking in my eyes (probably for the first time), "I promise I will give you the key, with enough time to let you get home before your folks do. Then, this whole evening at my house will stay just between you and me... and one other person."

I remembered, then, another clothed woman was expected at this house soon: Daphne.

"No, actually, I had forgotten about her," Mrs. Lawson replied. "Not a sign of good parenting. Actually, that makes two people. No, the other one I had in mind is your girlfriend. She must be worried about you... so we should call her."

I looked at Mrs. Lawson blankly.

"What's the number?" she asked. "Is it a private line or her parents' line? And what is her name?" Apparently Mrs. Lawson had given this some thought, though I had no idea where this was going. My girlfriend's name was Katie. I gave Mrs. Lawson the number, which was Katie's private line at her house.

Mrs. Lawson dialed and then put it on speakerphone. "When she picks up, John, just speak naturally, answering any questions she has."

After two rings a voice picked up. It was Katie. "Hello?"

All I said was Hey, it's me.

"John? Oh, thank goodness. I was so worried. I hadn't heard from you for 20 minutes, and given your, um, state, I thought..."

I couldn't believe it had only been 20 minutes since I'd hung up with her at my house. It had seemed like several days. Then again, I hadn't been wearing a watch when I hung up... or anything else for that matter. At the time, or since.

"So, she had the key? Your neighbor? And, you're home now? That's good... though it probably means you got redressed." Katie sounded very disappointed.

I began to say 'actually no' when Mrs. Lawson spoke up.

"Hi, Katie? This is Mrs. Lawson. I am John's neighbor, I've known him his whole life. Though I feel like I'm seeing a side of him this evening that I have never seen before. I'm actually the one who wanted to call and let you know he is safely inside my house. But, oddly enough, his clothes are not here with him. In fact, he is currently standing in my kitchen totally nude with his hands on top of his head and his dick very, very hard. Since he's your boyfriend, do you mind that I have him here in my kitchen totally nude? I can assure you that I, on the other hand, am very much clothed. A robe, tank-top, sweats, even panties and slippers. As for him... zero from head-to-toe. You should see his dick bobbing up and down right now."

There was silence on the other end. I couldn't even hear breathing for a moment. What if Katie said she did mind? My heart raced. Would Mrs. Lawson ignore her, would she kick me out... and if the latter, would she keep her promise and give me the key when she did? 

Then I heard what I thought was a slight moan on the other end. "No," Katie sighed, "I don't mind."

"You mean," Mrs. Lawson pushed, "because this way you know he's safe?"

"Safe, yeah," Katie said, a little breathily, "safe and bare-assed naked. He is, isn't he? Tell me again, please, Mrs. Lawson: He is still completely bare-assed naked, right?" She was breathing harder.

"Oh, yes, dear, he is very very naked, totally and completely nude, bare-ass, balls out, dick pointing straight-up naked. I love looking at him like this. Have you seen him like this, Katie? Have you seen him totally nude?"

"Oh yeah," Katie replied. It was obvious that she was getting very into this. Even though earlier she had joked about having me naked in front of her friends, I didn't realize until that moment that my girlfriend truly harbored a fantasy about having me naked in front of another woman. Or women. 

"So you two are sexually active?" Mrs. Lawson inquired. "You two like to fuck a lot?"

"Uh-huh." You could almost hear Katie squirming on the other end of the line. She and I played on the phone a lot (case in point: how this day had started) and she was not quiet or subtle during these times. She was also very honest about what she was doing, and right then she was honestly fingering the hell out of herself. My erection started to visibly throb at the thought of it.

None of this was lost on Mrs. Lawson. "But," she said to Katie," that's naked during sex, when maybe you both are naked. Have you been with him when he's the only one naked? When he might have been embarrassed because he was the very nude male next to the very clothed female.. and when it was going to stay that way for a bit?"

Yet again, I felt myself getting painfully close, her words and the sounds of Katie moaning and rubbing herself on the other end of the line nearly too much for me to handle. Mrs. Lawson saw me start to lose control, and so she pulled her squeeze-and-stop trick, which had become second-nature to her and was seriously beginning to hurt me. 

"Well?" she asked, since no intelligible response had come from my girlfriend.

That's when we heard a muffled shriek over the line, which clearly Katie had quieted to avoid raising suspicions at her parents' house. 

Finally Katie spoke. "I'm sorry, I just, wow," she stammered. 

"Not a problem, dear, I totally understand," Mrs. Lawson replied, as calmly as if Katie had sneezed rather than come while on the phone with her. "Some need for relief is certainly understandable given what you've put him through today. Believe me, my pussy has been gushing and my panties are absolutely soaked right now. Speaking of which, you should see how hard and throbbing he is. When was the last time you let him come?"

Katie seemed to recover her ability to think. "I made him jack-off for me after his folks left, right after I stripped him the first time. It's funny, at the time he seemed to think that was all I was going to have him do for me."

Katie giggled over the phone; next to me, Mrs. Lawson gave a low chuckle.

"He seemed surprised when I didn't let him put his clothes back on then," Katie continued. "I let him pick them up (they were by the front door, he said), but instead of having him get dressed I had him walk his clothes into his room and leave them there. Then I had him make himself lunch, watch TV, read a book... anything that I could think of that he'd normally do with his family there, just this time he was doing it all bare-assed naked. 

"And," she continued, clearly having worked up to this point, "I kept having him walk to his room to look at his clothes. Or look at pictures on the shelves where he was fully dressed. Or I would make a comment about any towel or sheet in the house, how it would probably feel great to him if he could cover himself with it... and too bad he couldn't! After a while I could hear in his voice how it was affecting him, so one time I let him grab a hand-towel... but only so he could jack-off into it! He had come twice and I guess he figured it was over.

"And then, I thought of his pool."

"It is a lovely pool," Mrs. Lawson agreed. "I have been in it many times." At this point they were both speaking as though I wasn't there.

"Did he tell you I let him put a bathing suit on?" Katie asked.

"No, he did not," Mrs. Lawson replied. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow, wondering why I had left this detail out. I could offer nothing as I continued to stand there, naked and desperate.

"I had him step out the back door with the suit on and the towel in his hand," Katie explained, "just so I could STRIP them both off of him!! Then the towel was tossed, the suit was ripped off, the door was closed, and then, BAM, very very naked John on the back porch!

"I didn't know the door would lock behind him... but I'm really glad it did." My girlfriend giggled as she finished this last thought.

I waited for Mrs. Lawson to say something about Katie's version of the day's events (which were much more involved--and accurate--than mine had been). But she didn't. She looked again at my erection as she spoke her next thought.

"Which brings us to the present," she said. "And John's, ah, revealing predicament. I know John's parents very well, and I know they would not enjoy finding him this way, locked out totally nude... or as you've put it, completely bare-assed naked. They will be very angry that he embarrassed his family this way. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't let him go back to school."

That got her. "No," Katie pleaded, "they wouldn't. They seemed a little strict when I met them, but there's no way..." She left her sentence unfinished, now seeing the potential cost of the day's activities.

"I hope they choose to let him, since you two are clearly crazy for each other. But he's their only child, and this could be very humiliating to them. After all, I found him standing on my front porch totally nude, embarrassed and covering himself with only his hands, his bare-ass pointing out towards the street. Can you imagine what the neighbors might have seen?" Again, a chuckle from Mrs. Lawson.

"But you both are in luck," Mrs. Lawson continued, "I do have the spare key." Katie let out a long breath, another quiet squeal (though this time from a very different cause). "John should be able to get into his house before his folks get home. However, since I hold your happiness in the palm of my hand, you both need to remain on my good side... you, Katie, as well as John here."

"What do you mean?" Katie asked in a quiet voice, her attitude one of nervousness for the first time since she had answered the phone.

"I have really enjoyed having John for my viewing pleasure. But I have hardly touched him. Okay, I touched a little--his dick is lovely and his balls are so nice and full, how could I not? Anyway," Mrs. Lawson continued, "since he was your boyfriend I didn't do anything more without speaking to you first. Maybe later I will play a little with John myself, or have him play with me. But for now I'd like to reward John for being a good sport and let him have a little relief of his own.

"Katie," Mrs. Lawson spoke firmly, "you need to order John to jerk himself off for me. You need to tell him about the next time--in the near future, I hope--when he will be nude and you will be clothed. What he will be doing for you. And John, you cannot come until I tell you that you can."

Katie took a breath, but she clearly had an image already in mind. "That's easy. When we get back to school, John, you'll help me unpack and set up my new dorm room. And in that room there'll be a dresser, and in that dresser a drawer with a little space set aside for you. And in that space you'll put whatever clothes you were wearing when you walked across campus to see me. Because starting with that first day, every time you're in my dorm room you'll be completely bare-assed naked."

I was in agony. I still had not moved my hands (partially due to numbness but mostly due to Mrs. Lawson not letting me) so I couldn't touch myself. Mrs. Lawson saw this and quietly scribbled on a notepad: 'You can move your hands now. I know you want to. But don't come yet.' I dropped my arms and quickly tried to get feeling back into them, since I desperately wanted to use them.

Katie went on. "I'll probably have to remind you about these new rules the first few times, since you may think I'm kidding. But I'm not. My dorm room, my rules... actually, in your dorm room it will be my rules too, but we'll get to that later. Anyway, after a while you'll know what to do and will just start stripping as you walk through my door: shoes, socks, shirt, pants, boxers, all off and in the little drawer (except the shoes, those stay by the door). But, since my friends love to come by, I won't be the only one who gets to see this happening. It's an all-girls dorm and I know nearly everyone in it... and since I'll be the one with the naked boyfriend all the time I imagine I'll be pretty popular. Maybe we'll make it the rule that you have to be naked all the time you're in my dorm, so that you're stripping as you enter the lobby. Some girls might be uncomfortable at first, but they'll get used to it. Think about how awesome study breaks will be, with 100 clothed women and you completely bare-assed naked in the middle of them?"

Mrs. Lawson saw it a second before it happened, and had grabbed a dishtowel to catch the mess. "John, now!!!" she yelled.

I went to stroke my erection but within an instant of touching it I shot-off. I was coming as hard and as much as I had ever in my life. I was partially shouting and partially breathing loudly and my back arched and I was milking myself for everything I was worth. Mrs. Lawson held the cloth around me, trying to catch every drop. After about a minute I finally came down, literally collapsing on my knees.




Girlfriend in Control Ch. 03



"Katie," Mrs. Lawson said, after another couple minutes, "I like your style. You will hold him to it, right?"

"Yeah," Katie said, slightly distracted.

"Well, what do we do with him now?" Mrs. Lawson asked. "If he was a man my age, he'd be asleep on that floor instead of just kneeling and catching his breath. I'd like to see that dick nice and hard again very soon. How do we make that happen?"

"Um..." Katie mumbled. Again, we could hear labored breathing, as Katie was still deep in her fantasy of me as the nude mascot of her all-girls dorm.

"Katie, I kept meaning to ask you, you did stay dressed the whole day while you had him traipsing around nude, right?"

"Huh?" Katie sort-of replied.

"He was nude and you were dressed and, I assume, are still dressed, as I am, yes?" Mrs. Lawson pressed.

"Um, yeah," Katie said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"That idea might get him hard again soon, you know, him nude and you clothed," Mrs. Lawson said, and did something she hadn't done since my time with her began: she winked at me. With that I stood up, keeping my arms at my sides, a location with which Mrs. Lawson seemed content. "But it won't be soon enough for me.

"You see, I have a hunch that he gets very excited not only when he strips for you, but when you strip for him, is that right? In person, on the phone, whenever." She looked over at me and I nodded fervently.

Katie was in a haze. "Yeah, he loves me to strip for him before sex. Whenever we've gone out somewhere nice, and I'm in a dress, once we get home he has me take off all my underwear first so that..." (she paused again, taking a breath) "once I undo the dress, it falls to the floor and I'm standing there naked." This was the first time Katie had talked about something 'I had her do' rather than vice versa, and Mrs. Lawson noticed that I had begun to harden again. 

"And on the phone?" Mrs. Lawson asked. I was now nodding with my whole body, which Mrs. Lawson appreciated.

Either Katie had given up getting-off or she had accomplished it quietly. Either way, she responded a little testily: "Why do you want to know?"

"I was thinking," Mrs. Lawson commented, "I am the key to your happy reunion, no pun intended. Now, my happiness depends entirely on our nude friend John here getting hard again, and I mean right now. And I think whether that happens depends entirely on you getting naked, and I mean right now." 

A pause. "Really? Do I have to?" I was getting harder by the second listening to Katie's reluctance. 

"Yup," Mrs. Lawson confirmed, smiling. "Strip. All of it. He's completely bare-assed naked in my kitchen and now you're about to be completely bare-assed naked at your parents' house. Give us the visual: First what are you starting in, then each item as it comes off. John will tell me what you look like in each state of undress." Then Mrs. Lawson scribbled on her notepad again: 'Will she really do it?' I nodded; as I had said earlier, Katie is very honest about what she's doing on the phone, and she wouldn't tell me she was stripping if she wasn't actually doing it.

"This is crazy, I'm in a blue t-shirt and denim shorts, bra and panties, no socks or shoes."

"John?" Mrs. Lawson prodded.

I spoke for the first time in what felt like hours. I said that Katie was very beautiful, both naked and fully dressed. She was about 5'2", with dark black thick hair, remnants of Italian ancestry. Dark brown eyes and a very cute smile, slightly mischievous. 

"Continue," Mrs. Lawson commanded.

"Hold on," Katie said, and we heard what sounded like the phone being put down. "Okay, I'm back. My shirt is off now, it's on the floor. My bra is white, simple cotton, a little lace. It's a little cool in my room now." Katie was well-rehearsed in this as she had been doing it for me all summer. Mrs. Lawson looked at me.

I said Katie had beautiful breasts, but Mrs. Lawson shook her head. She only wanted to know about the image at present. I said, Katie's stomach was flat but soft, that it felt incredible to lay my head on it. That seeing her in just a bra was a huge turn-on. Mrs. Lawson nodded at me and licked her lips again, confirming that I was back to full-flag status.

"Should I keep going?" Katie asked. I was afraid Mrs. Lawson would say no since she had achieved her goal: I was hard again for her viewing pleasure.

"Of course," Mrs. Lawson replied.

"I can't believe I have to do this. Okay, my shorts are unbuttoned, unzipped, and now down at my feet. I've kicked them across the room. My panties are simple, bikini-cut, also white. Can I get under my covers, I'm really cold now?"

"Certainly not," Mrs. Lawson said, noting the positive effect that Katie's discomfort was having on me.

Mrs. Lawson knew that Katie would obey. At first she probably had thought Katie was exhibitionistic (as she had quickly realized I was), although I knew Katie was in it for the key. She signaled to me to describe the current visual of Katie.

I told her Katie had great legs. She was a dancer and a soccer player, so her calves were solid and sleek. That her thighs were without flaw, and when she trapped me between them I knew I could die happy. All this romantic stuff had started to deflate me, and Mrs. Lawson made a face.

"I'm unhooking my bra. Three hooks in back. Okay, it's off my shoulders and down my arms and onto the floor. I'm freezing right now, my nipples are like bullets."

Again I started with how beautiful her breasts were, and again Mrs. Lawson cut me off. "That's so clinical.. You want her, I can see it in your eyes and in your dick. Tell me about her."

Yes, I said, Katie's got phenomenal tits. They're D-cups and they cause guys around campus to turn and look. Half the time we're together I just stare at her tits like a fucking idiot, I can't get enough of them. [Again, a look from Mrs. Lawson. Apparently I was an exhibitionistic romantic, who knew?] Her nipples point-out about half an inch when she's excited, and her tits mash together perfectly when I'm pounding on top of her. When she's on her back she sometimes pushes them together to make a tight little valley that I love to lay my dick in.

Mrs. Lawson was smiling, mostly because I had started to throb again. We heard Katie moan a little as she went for the last piece.

"Okay, I've got my thumbs in the waistband of my panties. I'm pulling them down and now the material is off my pussy and my ass and I feel a cold breeze on my lips. I'm pushing them down, bending over but keeping my legs straight. Someone behind me right now would see my bare-ass and my pussy lips bare and inviting. My clit is throbbing and I need to be touching it again very soon. I wish you were here, John, you would fuck me so hard. You'd take that big cock and ram me with it, I can almost feel you pounding me. I'd love to leave my panties around my ankles, like we do sometimes at school. Bent over the desk and lightly bound. You remember?"

It was clear Katie had started another round of fingering herself, which made me think the panties had been forgotten at her ankles or across the room, either way totally irrelevant. My erection was throbbing again, and as I went to describe her, my voice cracked. Mrs. Lawson cut me off again, this time with no indication as to why. 

We listened to Katie going at it for what could have been the second or third time that phone call. She kept moaning, saying "I'm still bent over, so good" and "fuck me, fuck me now," and as she was clearly getting close Mrs. Lawson grabbed my erection firmly and signaled for me to speak.

I'm fucking you now, baby, I said into the phone. I'm pounding your cunt...

... and Katie came with a less muffled shriek this time. Mrs. Lawson was softly stroking me, but knew enough to keep me far from climaxing. 

"Thank you, Katie," Mrs. Lawson said, after Katie had calmed down. "You have no idea how much I have enjoyed talking with you. Keep him nude and hard at school, would you?"

"Yeah..." Katie slurred, clearly drowsy.

With perfect timing a car honked from right outside. At first I thought I was going to die, thinking my folks were back at my house, but as Mrs. Lawson looked out the window I realized it was at this house.

"Yes, my daughter Daphne just got home. If you don't mind, she and I are going to play with your totally nude boyfriend for a little bit longer. And since you got him hard again for me, your part is done. You can redress, if you want--he's the only one that needs to stay nude. If he keeps up his end ([looking directly at my erection]) then he'll make it home in time and you'll see him nude in your dorm room in a few weeks.

"By the way, Katie, I do hope you'll come visit his family soon. I would look forward to getting to see you too." And with that, she disconnected the call.

"You, stay here," Mrs. Lawson said, back in her role commanding me. "Maybe I should find a bow so Daphne can see the present I have gotten her. Actually, no, let's get you back in that soccer stance I found you in. You know, hands in front of your dick. Lord knows you'll be embarrassed soon enough with the things I have planned for you..."

And with that she headed to the front door, ready to greet the next woman who would be keeping me naked.



Girlfriend in Control Ch. 04



Mrs. Lawson headed out the front door, I assumed to greet her daughter, Daphne, who had just arrived at their house. I hadn't seen Daphne in more than five years. She was a pretty girl built a lot like her mother: long legs, fairly large breasts (C-cup or so), and a tight ass kept toned by years on various swim teams. Or, at least that's how she had looked her senior year of high school. Since I was two years her junior she had typically failed to acknowledge me when I saw her in the halls between classes. I had a strong hunch she would notice me now.

It was difficult to imagine her missing me. I remained exactly where her mother had commanded me to stay, and was in the exact position I had been instructed to remain in. And I was in the same outfit that I had been in for nearly all of the past six hours: nothing. No shoes, no socks, no shirt, no pants, no underwear... no anything. I was completely and totally stark naked. For about five seconds sometime about an hour or so ago I had been allowed to put on a bathing suit--allowed that brief bit of covering--but that too had been stripped off of me, solely for the purpose of making me feel even more exposed. And now I was under the bright lights of the Lawsons' kitchen, standing with only my hands covering me. It seemed silly that Mrs. Lawson would have me attempt to retain even that shred of modesty, since undoubtedly I would be exposing myself again soon for her and Daphne's enjoyment. Mrs. Lawson was relishing having me as a naked guest this evening, and unfortunately I had to do everything possible to remain in her good graces. But I was really, really tired of being naked, especially since Mrs. Lawson had remained very clothed the entire time I had been with her and since she really loved reminding me of my nakedness. And unless Daphne walked through the front door naked as well, I was about to be alone and very, very naked with two very, very dressed females. The image of a naked Daphne (only a dream image, since I had never seen her in anything less than a one-piece racing suit) was also not helping at that moment, as I felt my erection throb quickly under my hands.

The kitchen was slightly to the side of the front door, so from my vantage point I could only hear the door open rather than see the two women come through it. However, as they came through I could hear no conversation until one party stopped her walking and said "Really?" That was clearly Daphne. And her mother's response: "Go see for yourself."

My heart was racing as Daphne had clearly begun to walk again. Two seconds later she made her way into the kitchen, holding a bag of groceries. And then she did the one thing that actually could have made the situation worse: She started laughing. And laughing. And there I was, standing in her kitchen in my birthday suit, my hands covering my erection, my embarrassment at the highest level it had been at all day (which was really saying something), while Daphne had broken into such uncontrollable laughter that she had to put down her bag of groceries for fear of dropping and breaking something. After a couple good minutes, Daphne brought herself under control, although she could not wipe the smile off of her face. She was in a short-sleeved blouse and a pair of black capri pants, with flip-flops on her feet. Her good-size breasts were shaking as she did, her shoulder-length brown hair held back in a pony-tail, her toned body still spasming as she had seconds of uncontrolled giggling.. 

"Omigod, John," she sputtered, still giggling a bit. "I mean, holy cow. You're... in my kitchen... your hands, they... and you're totally naked." And she started to laugh again. Stopping, a second time, she asked, "So where are your clothes, John?"

Her mother responded before I could answer her. Mrs. Lawson had been standing just behind and to the side of her daughter, as to not interrupt Daphne's view (and to ensure that Daphne did not interrupt hers). "Would you believe I found him this way? I heard the doorbell ring, John identified himself when I asked who it was, and when I opened the door, he was standing there exactly as you see him now.

"I was sure I was imagining something. I kept speaking to him on the front porch, thinking that I would figure it out. I would realize that his shirt was just transparent under our porch light, or he was just wearing flesh-colored shorts. But even after waiting for ten minutes for the mirage to disappear, I had to accept it: Here was John--the young man we watched grow up across the street--and he had no shirt, no shoes, no pants, no underwear even. He was totally and completely nude on our front porch. Totally nude, not a stitch on... and no clothes in sight. His hands were his only covering--they were positioned then exactly as you see them now. Think about it: Any car driving down our block at that moment would have seen me talking to a totally nude man, whose bare-ass was pointing straight at the street. Turn around John, so that Daphne can appreciate what view a car driving by would have had."

I did not react quickly enough so Mrs. Lawson sternly repeated my name. I started moving my feet and quickly I had turned 180-degrees, so Daphne was now looking at my very bare-ass. I thought in some ways this was better, since I didn't have to see her looking at me, but a fresh round of giggles (more controlled than the first two sets) had now begun behind my back.

"You can laugh now," Mrs. Lawson said. "But I was very confused at the time. I still am not sure how that came to be. John, can you explain for Daphne how I came to find you totally nude on my front porch... particularly strange when your house (and clothes, I assume) are just across the street? And please turn around when you speak to us."

I couldn't look at Daphne's face, and since she was still catching her breath from her various fits of laughter I was guessing she wasn't looking at mine, either. Instead I spoke to her feet, rehashing (for what felt like the hundredth time) the events of the afternoon: When I told my girlfriend (at home with her parents) that I had the house to myself for the day and evening, she dared me to do a bunch of stuff naked. One of those things was to go skinny dipping. Unfortunately once I was already on the back porch (without a suit or towel), I found the door had locked behind me. I couldn't imagine my parents finding me that way when they got home, so I ran over to Daphne's house since her mother once had a spare key.

Mrs. Lawson spoke up now, apparently disappointed I had a major point. "That's not exactly the way things happened. His girlfriend--a lovely young woman named Katie--stayed on the phone with him for nearly the whole day, keeping him naked and forcing him to do things around the house in the nude that he normally was allowed to do fully clothed." As she spoke, Mrs. Lawson had begun to move towards their small kitchen table, Daphne following her lead. They took chairs on opposite sides. Once they moved Mrs. Lawson commanded I follow them--now my hand-covered groin was directed at their eye-level. 

Mrs. Lawson continued, excited by her next thought. "But you'll love this part best, Daph. Katie had the splendid idea to have him go outside to tan and swim in the nude, but she let him put on a bathing suit as he walked out of the house."

Daphne, not yet as practiced as her mother in keeping their naked male guest embarrassed and exposed, seemed surprised. "If he was to tan naked, why did she have him get dressed?"

"I told you that you'd love this," her mother responded. "Katie didn't tell John he was going to be naked, only that he was going out to the pool. Once he was out the door, she forced him to strip off his suit and toss it and the towel back in the house. She wanted him to think he would be allowed to be covered, but only so that it was that much more humiliating when he found himself totally nude on the back porch. He closed the door, and suddenly found himself locked out of his house. Locked out totally and completely nude, with absolutely no hope of covering. Can you imagine that? Locked out naked in the bright afternoon sunshine?"

"I think I would die," said Daphne, who had been squirming slightly during her mother's recounting of what Katie had told her had really happened this afternoon. "I can't believe John would tell you all this--he looks like he's ready to die from shame."

"Actually, "Mrs. Lawson explained, "I got the story directly from the young woman herself."

"You spoke to his girlfriend?" asked Daphne.

"Yes. In fact, Katie had just gotten off when your car pulled up." Mrs. Lawson gave a light chuckle that Daphne didn't notice; however, I knew that her comment about Katie 'getting-off' was in reference to the very loud orgasm Katie had had immediately before Mrs. Lawson hung up with her.

"I think you'd really like her," Mrs. Lawson continued, talking to Daphne. "She is clearly very bright and very strong, since our friend John here is very naked just because she told him to be that way over the phone. And I think this is an outfit John better get used to, at least once he's back at school."

Now Daphne was clearly intrigued. "What do you mean?"

"I think Katie has enjoyed John's predicament--at least once she knew he was safely at our house. She told John that her dorm room was to be clothing-free--at least for him--for the entire year. She hinted that she was going to get her entire all-girls dorm to require John be naked whenever he is there, be it in her room or any public space--that he would be forced to strip-off as soon as he entered her lobby, and would only be returned his clothes when he was ready to leave. And from her tone, she sounded like she could make it happen."

Mrs. Lawson had kept her eyes on me as she discussed Katie's idea, which had been more the product of Katie's masturbatory fantasies then any serious deliberation (or, at least I really hoped so)--though I was loathe to contradict Mrs. Lawson, and just stood there pathetically. Daphne clapped her hands at the idea. This break in the conversation seemed to remind her of what she had been doing when she walked in.

"Oh, the groceries," Daphne sighed. It had only been ten minutes since she had gotten home, but it was a warm climate and things tended to spoil quickly. She stood up and walked past me, allowing her capri-clad leg to brush against my bare one. As I looked after her I notice her look back at my bare-ass, grinning again. 

"That's right," Mrs. Lawson said, "there is one more bag in the car, on the back seat. John, please go get it."

Although she had said 'please,' I knew it was still a command, but I couldn't move. I tried to pretend I hadn't heard her, but I clearly had. Mrs. Lawson had just told me to go to the car and get the last bag of groceries. The car, of course, was parked in front of the house, probably on their side driveway. Its exact location was irrelevant; all I knew was that I had just been told to do the one thing I had not considered having to do again so soon: I was being sent back outside, and I was going out completely bare-assed naked. Although I had only been inside for less than an hour--and had spent that entire hour very naked and at Mrs. Lawson's mercy (or lack thereof)--I was at least inside somewhere. I couldn't imagine walking back out into our neighborhood now, still naked, still with no hope of finding covering or getting into my own house. But I was. I was going out there, and from the look on Mrs. Lawson's face, I was going back outside stark raving naked at that very moment.

"Start moving, John, or I'll drag you to the front door myself. And you know exactly what I'll be pulling you by," Mrs. Lawson commanded, still seated comfortably in her chair, though looking irritated. I began walking out of the kitchen as Mrs. Lawson told her daughter to get the front door for me. Daphne walked by me, again letting her capri-clad leg brush against my naked one. She undid the double locks and opened the door. I was surprised to find both the front porch light and outside house lights off even though it was now past dusk. 

I hesitated at the threshold of their house, and not for the first time that evening contemplated if this torment was really better than my folks finding me at home locked out naked. Sadly I realized it was, and I gently stepped out the door and onto the porch. Daphne patted me on the bare-ass and said quietly "The bag is on the back-seat, driver's side. I'm gonna close the door to keep bugs out now. See you soon."

I stepped off their front porch and back on to their lawn, the front door closing behind me. The last time I had been in that very spot (an hour ago) I had a pair of fig leafs covering me. Now it was just my hands. I kept them firmly against me as I walked over to her car, a four-door sedan of some model that it was too dark (and I was too nervous) to make out. I didn't look up but tried to listen for the reaction of anyone who may have noticed a nude man walk out of the Lawsons' front door. No sound was heard, so I looked around and found the neighborhood deserted. 

I finally moved my hands away, exposing my erection to the world (though not much world since the lights were all off) as I reached for the back door latch. The second I opened the door I began to cringe--the car's dome light had gone on, illuminating the back seat as well as anyone standing naked immediately next to the vehicle. The bag was actually closer to the passenger side, and I had to lean far into the vehicle, eventually putting one knee on the backseat. This meant I was standing in a bright light with my legs spread wide and my erection bobbing wildly, as I finally reached the grocery bag (that I could have just gone around to the other side never occurred to my terrified self). 

I had the grocery bag in both hands and was standing next to the vehicle. I did the only thing possible and used my bare-ass to close the car door, leaning back against it hard. The feeling of the warm metal against my bare skin was strange but not completely unpleasant. The dome light thankfully went out. I realized the sound of the car door closing may have been heard by anyone around, but since I hadn't seen anyone and since it was completely dark in front of the Lawson's house I was only very worried about being caught outside naked (instead of being completely panicked).

It was at that second that the Lawsons' exterior lights came on, and suddenly I was bathed in a bright white light. I had been carrying the bag at chest level (which was the most comfortable), but as my heart pounded in response to the light I moved the bag directly in front of my groin. It was difficult to walk but I began to scurry quickly back towards the front door--the front porch light was still off, and once I was on the porch itself I would be out of range of the house lights. I hurried onto the porch. Cradling the bag against my groin with one hand, I used the other hand to grab the latch and open the door. 

And for the second time that day, a seemingly open door was inexplicably found to be locked--the latch did not move, the door did not open, and I was, once again, locked outside naked. For a moment I thought Daphne might have locked it accidentally after letting me out... that is, until the front porch light came on and I could hear both Daphne and Mrs. Lawson laughing.

Suddenly their two faces appeared at the glass windows at each side of the front door, both laughing and pointing at me. I could see both Mrs. Lawson's robe and tank-top through the glass, as well as Daphne's blouse--more reminders of the control these women had over me. I was again nude in the spotlight of their front porch, but this time the door in front of me was locked. I almost dropped the bag in my shock. Once I realized that they had intentionally locked me out--and were wildly enjoying my exposed situation--my erection started throbbing wildly, and for a second I thought I was going to come all over their groceries. I brought my throbbing under control but was otherwise completely terrified. I whimpered pathetically for them to please let me in.

"Oh yeah, John," said Daphne through the right window. "It looks totally horrible to be locked outside naked. No clothes anywhere to be seen, only a bag of groceries to cover yourself with."

"Speaking of which," Mrs. Lawson said through the left window, "we still need those. We'll open the door and you'll hand us the bag. If you try anything funny--like trying to get in, for example--we'll leave you out there all night and you'll never get the key. Do you understand?"

I was still whimpering, now a little worse at the prospect of not even having the bag to cover myself with. I had truly believed after walking in to the Lawsons' house that my time being stuck outside naked was long over. This new shock was traumatic and I was not handling myself well. I just nodded at her question. The door opened wide, though both women stood there blocking the way.

"Hands in the air, this is a stick-up!! Now, hand over the bag" Mrs. Lawson joked, far too loudly in my mind. I began to move the bag from in front of my groin. "Daphne, are you ready to see it?"

Daphne looked like a kid at Christmas. "Absolutely. Hey John, do as the lady says. Hand over the bag, then put both hands in the air like a good naked boy."

I moved the bag away from my erection and towards Mrs. Lawson. With the light overhead and the bag in mid-air, much of my body was still in shadow. However, once I had handed the bag to Mrs. Lawson, my hands were in the air empty and I was directly under the light with no shadows being cast. Every inch of me was shined upon, and every inch of me was being studied by Daphne. At least, those few inches she hadn't seen yet. She was staring fairly hard at my erection, and my erection was pointing back very hard at her. I assumed mine wasn't the first Daphne had ever seen, but she seemed to like looking at it nonetheless. At least, when her mother exclaimed (very loudly) "Didn't I tell you he has a nice dick?" Daphne then responded with "Oh yeah." I was both flattered and mortified, both aroused and humiliated. 

Then Daphne said "Be right back." And with that the two ladies stepped back and closed the front door in my face. Again, I heard the click indicating that they had locked it. 

I was once again locked outside naked. I went to cover myself but Daphne saw my attempt through her window. She said "No, John, hands stay up. Your dick stays out for as long as we want to see it. Do me a favor and twirl around, slowly." I did as she ordered, my hands up and my body twirling. I felt completely out of control, completely outside of myself. 

I twirled a couple times and then she said "Now, bring your dick back towards me." Not even speaking about me or my body, just my erection. I finished my last twirl and faced her. Her mother had walked away with the groceries, and Daphne was alone by the front door (not counting me--her naked prisoner--trapped and exposed on the other side of it). A moment later her mother's face joined hers at the window and I heard Mrs. Lawson ask "Did he behave?" Daphne said I had, and I heard a click as the front door opened. The two clothed ladies looked down on me, naked and exposed in the bright light of their front porch. Mrs. Lawson spoke first.

"John, how nice to see you," she said, acting as though she was seeing me for the first time that day and using the line from earlier that always included her looking me up and down. She reached down and grabbed my uncovered erection. She began pulling me into the house, saying once again "Please feel free to come in our house." I didn't come then, too terrified to speak, as I stepped over the threshold and was once again inside. Mrs. Lawson pulled me into the foyer as Daphne once again closed and locked the door. If she was surprised to see her mother grabbing my erection her face didn't show it. 




Girlfriend in Control Ch. 04



"We were just about to have dinner," Mrs. Lawson said. "Would you care to join us?" For a moment I considered that she had meant that she and her daughter would be dining on a meal of me (a not too horrible idea), but as she continued to guide me by my erection back towards the kitchen I could see the small table was now set for only two, with a salad in the middle. Clearly this all had been accomplished while I was outside. 

"Yes," Daphne joined in, "you really should join us." Her hand was resting gently on the top of my bare-ass as her mother's was on my throbbing member. 

I stammered that I wasn't hungry (which was both true and untrue: I was physically famished but emotionally unable to recognize that), to which Mrs. Lawson responded "Well, that's fine, we only have two chairs anyway. Although, since you're so incredibly nude right now, you probably wouldn't want to be sitting in one of these uncomfortable chairs. It might feel very strange on that lovely bare-ass of yours... and it would just be wasteful if your dick was hidden under the covering of the table. Yes, it's probably just best if you just stand next to us." She had finished pulling me, and had sat her self down in the nearer chair. Daphne took the other, and I was positioned about halfway between them, no more than a foot or two away from either mother or daughter. My hands were still in the air, and my erection was again bobbing up and down as I tried to control my breathing. 

This time it was Daphne who gave the command: "Alright, John, now hands behind your back. And spread your legs a little for us, good." I was now standing in the At-Ease position, though I certainly was not feeling that way. After both women took a moment to enjoy the view, they each turned to the dinner in front of them. 

"Daphne, thank you for getting the salad, it really is delicious," her mother said after taking a few bites.

"Not at all, Mom," Daphne replied. "Thank you for providing the decoration for our meal. It really is nice to have an attractive naked man to look over while enjoying a meal at the end of a long day." Whatever shock Daphne had had at the situation when she first arrived had long since disappeared, and she had begun to exhibit the same gift her mother had for making me feel exposed and humiliated. The two women continued eating and speaking as though I wasn't there, though every once in a while someone would make a comment about how the salad really could use breadsticks (both women looking at my erection as this was said) or how one or the other's salad needed some more dressing, since it really looked naked without it (again, both women would smirk and look at me as I cringed). 

After about 20 minutes, Daphne commented that her glass needed ice. Mrs. Lawson reached out and grabbed my erection (now her signal for telling me she wanted something). She said "John, go get some ice cubes from the freezer for Daphne, would you?" She added a few gentle strokes and turned me in the direction of the fridge/freezer. I walked quickly to the appliance, and took a deep breath. Although Katie had made me stand in front of the fridge in this outfit (what outfit? I wondered), a freezer was much colder than a fridge, and I was not looking forward to feeling its effects on my naked body. I opened the freezer door and was immediately caught by an arctic blast. No matter what is said about 'cold' and 'shrinkage,' I was as long and hard as I had been all day. I had hoped to find the ice cube tray quickly but after looking for a ten or 20 seconds I realized I couldn't see it.

"The trays are on the bottom shelf, behind the bread," Daphne said, picking up my confusion. I knew that both women would have followed my progress with their eyes, mostly to enjoy my discomfort at being nude in front of the open freezer. I went to squat down, an action which would normally be second-nature given that I needed something on the bottom shelf. But as I did I was reminded of my attire, and as I felt my bare thighs come into contact with my bare calves I realized what this probably looked like from behind. I was perched on the balls of my feet, my entire package (balls and all) hanging just inches from the cold kitchen floor, as the cold emanating off of the bottom shelf felt both horrible and amazing on my naked erection. I reached into the bottom shelf area, using the open freezer door for balance. After what seemed like several minutes I found an ice cube tray wedged far in the back. Once I had extricated it I gently twisted the tray to loosen several cubes, grabbing a small handful, I then repeated my reaching to return the tray to where I had found it. I pushed myself to a standing position, and finally closed the freezer door. I was still naked--still exposed for their enjoyment--but at least I wasn't painfully cold anymore.

I walked the ice cubes back over to Daphne. If she had a problem with my hands being dirty (they had to be, I figured, given everything I had done since the last time I consciously washed them) she didn't say anything, and held out her glass for me to drop the cubes in. 

Once I did, she said "Thank you, John," and then told me step closer. Daphne had yet to touch me (at least, she hadn't enjoyed teasing my erection the way her mother did), so I wasn't sure what she wanted. When I was only a few inches away from her, she leaned down and (without even moving her hands, which still held her glass) placed a very gentle kiss on the tip of my erection. "Cold," she said, "but nice." She put down the glass and returned to her salad, dismissing me with a slight wave. I looked over at Mrs. Lawson as I stepped back to my earlier station (returning, again, to the At-Ease position) and noticed that she was breathing a little heavier. She had clearly approved of her daughter's aggressive behavior.

"You know, I'm full," said Daphne, after a moment. I noticed she had not touched her beverage since I returned, confirming that the ice cube request had been nothing more than a ploy to get me naked in front of the freezer. 

"Yes," agreed her mother, "we really should retire to the living room for some evening entertainment." With that both women pushed their chairs back, standing up to leave the table. Since Daphne had been further away it was her responsibility to grab my erection and pull me in the direction of the living room. This was her first manual contact with my throbbing member. She first cupped the tip gently, then let her fingers expand slightly as she ran her nails along its length, finally encircling it near the base. She gave the same hard squeeze that her mother had earlier in the evening, effectively cutting off any climax (for now, at least) and pulled me roughly towards where her mother was now sitting on a couch. Daphne positioned me just in front of Mrs. Lawson, then joined her mother sitting down. Without being commanded I returned to my At-Ease position.

Mrs. Lawson noticed this I had done this without being told. "I think we have him trained now," she observed. "What a good soldier. A soldier slightly out of uniform, I think." She added this leaning back on the couch; both mother and daughter shared a good chuckle at this last comment. 

"You seem in pretty good shape, John, you must exercise a bit," Daphne said. I told her I run and hit the gym a few times each week. 

"Yes," noted her mother, "but have you ever worked out in the nude? Lifting weights in the buff?" Again, chuckles from both women. Then inspiration hit Mrs. Lawson. "Has Katie ever made you exercise naked for her? Tell the truth, I can always call her back and ask, it might give her more ideas for next year."

I couldn't look at them as I answered that yes, Katie would sometimes make me do push-ups or crunches while we were studying in our dorm rooms, and while I was doing them she would work my clothes off so that by the end I was doing them naked. I didn't say that it always led to sex, since Mrs. Lawson was only interested in my getting naked for the purpose of exposure, not enjoyment.

"Good," Mrs. Lawson commented. "So, let's see 25 push-ups, please. And since there's no need to strip you while you're doing them, there'll be no distractions."

I turned to the side and laid myself down. My erection was pressed against their white non-shag carpet. I put my hands out and arched myself on my toes. After a couple seconds I had pushed up, my erection hanging tightly below me. Daphne found this image wild and clapped her hands enthusiastically.

"We'll count off for you," said her mother. "Ready, start."

I let my arms relax and went down nearly to the floor. My erection touched the carpet and I realized I was slightly sore from the day's activities. As I pushed back-up I made a mental note to only go down far enough to count without my member brushing again the carpet. 

"One," the ladies said in unison.

I went back down, remembering to stop before my erection reached the floor. I pushed back-up again, but this time I heard nothing. I paused in confusion, my arms slightly strained.

"John, that one doesn't count," claimed Daphne, who had been leaning forward in anticipation. "They only count if your dick touches the floor. Otherwise you might as well be doing them clothed, and I don't see any reason for that to happen anytime soon. C'mon naked guy, only 24 more to go. Mom, look at how tight his ass is right now."

I began to descend as Mrs. Lawson responded. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought. I realized that if I am correct in my impression of Katie, then John may never do a clothed push-up or sit-up again in his life. I wonder if her dorm has a small fitness room. Perfect for him to keep the girls there entertained with his naked exercise routines." By this point I had done three more push-ups, which Daphne had counted out while her mother considered my new exercise regimen. 

I tried drowning out their conversation as I got into a rhythm, the feel of the carpet on my erection my confirmation that each push-up would be counted. As the count in my head reached 20, I wondered briefly what was next for me to do for them, naked and embarrassed. As the count approached 23 I heard Daphne say "Could you even imagine how good he'd look spread out and hard, doing shoulder stretches at the public gym?"

Once I finished my 25 push-ups I kept myself in an arched position, fearing reprisal if I laid back down or otherwise moved. The women applauded nonchalantly, as though seeing a man do naked push-ups was something they enjoyed every day (though Mrs. Lawson had mentioned I was the first man who had been around the house in a while... and certainly the first very naked man to do so). Slowly Mrs. Lawson slid off the couch and kneeled next to me. "I'd like to see you do ten more. Gosh, I'd love to be stripping you while you do them, but since you're already totally nude on my living room floor I can't see how I would manage that." 

Instead she reached her hand between my legs, which were lightly spread to help me hold my pose. I could feel the side of her robe now draped over my bare legs. For a second I feared she was going to plunge a finger into my rectum, but instead I felt her nails brush my scrotum. Then I felt her fingertips on my shaft, which was a strange but powerful sensation as she was starting with the base and working her way up. I looked over at Daphne and realized her hands were in-between the legs of her capris. Mrs. Lawson's hand (on the other hand) had found its objective, as she held my erection between her fingers, her palm pressed against my testicles. I felt a great swelling coming on.

"Don't come now, John. If you do you won't ever get that key. What you will do is ten more push-ups, with my hand wrapped around your hard dick. If you come before you finish--if you come all over my living room carpet--then you're going back outside in your birthday suit." I again looked at Daphne, but her eyes were glazed and she seemed to have trouble sitting still. Then Mrs. Lawson leaned closer to me so I could hear her whisper "But if you can hold out for these ten push-ups I will make it worth your while." That alone nearly sent me over, but I figured she had only said that to make me come and give her an excuse to throw me back out naked. I used every bit of my 20-year-old stamina to hold off my eruption, as I began to descend for the first push-up.

Mrs. Lawson leaned down with me to maintain contact with my package. As I pushed back-up see tightened her grip on me, either to torment me or because she felt her current level of pressure was insufficient. I continued to look down as she counted-off "One", though I could also hear Daphne moaning lightly on the couch. I tried not to think of any of it as I descended again.

Somehow I made it to nine without erupting. As I descended for the last one, Mrs. Lawson again leaned in and whispered "Don't come yet, don't come yet," although she was now gently stroking me as she said it. I nearly blew but concentrated on non-sexy things, which was not easy given my enforced nudity by these two attractive and clothed women (one of whom was getting-off sitting on the couch two feet away). When she finally counted-out ten, Mrs. Lawson let go, and standing up patted me on the ass. I was so much in her control that I remained arched with my hands and toes flat on the floor.

"That was great, John," she said. She then noticed her daughter and said, "Daphne, stop that." That caused Daphne to regain focus, though I could tell from her heavy breathing and a hungry look on her face that her mother's interruption had cut her off very close to orgasm. Her mother's order had been a large dash of cold water to her, and she was clearly aching. 

"Now, on your back, John," Mrs. Lawson ordered, and I descended to the floor, lying down completely before rolling over, my erection now resting on my abdomen. At this point Mrs. Lawson need only speak softly once for me to respond immediately to her smallest command. "Now, scoot your ass up to the couch, and put your feet on the cushions." I did as ordered. I was now in a perfect position to do crunches--the exercise she expected me to do next--with my feet elevated and my scrotum a few inches from the front of the couch. I kept my hands to my sides, which meant both women had full viewing access to my entire package, though Daphne still appeared distracted. 

"A new challenge for you," Mrs. Lawson said, leaning down and looking only at my erection. "You are going to do a set of ten crunches, but before you finish you are going to come for us. You can't touch your dick and neither of us will touch you either, but somehow you must find a way to make a giant stream of come pour out of it before you reach ten. No slowing down, no trying to get your hands on it. If I don't feel you are doing exactly what we want you to, then you know where you'll be: Back outside totally and completely nude, with no key and no hope for covering up. Then I'll call your folks and leave them a message that they should talk to me about the events of tonight, and maybe I'll recommend that they keep you naked at home as a reminder of what a bad and naughty little boy you are. And I'll certainly be calling Katie back so that she and I can make more plans for you. I wonder if the college will let you attend class in the nude? They better, since I'll make sure that Katie gets rid of every piece of clothing you own. That bathing suit from earlier may be the last shred of clothing you ever get to wear for the rest of your life."

That was the sentence that sent me over the edge, as she knew it would. My scrotum tightened for the fourth time that day, and Mrs. Lawson could see the first eruption approaching. She screamed "Daphne, he's about to burst. Use your shirt, catch it before he comes all over the carpet." Daphne had already started rubbing herself again, and it took her an extra second to respond. 

Beneath all her bravado (exhibited to me over the last hour), it seemed Daphne was actually very afraid of her mother, and that terror might have been based on an early childhood incident in which she had made a mess on the carpet. Whatever the reason was, as I began my first spurt Daphne realized she wouldn't be able to get her shirt in front of my erection in time, so she simply dove off the couch and basically laid across me, using her body to block my mess. We must have made quite a sight: Me totally nude on my back, my legs up in the air, shaking as I came somewhat forcefully into the air, while fully-clothed Daphne was arched slightly over my exposed groin, perpendicular to me, using her clothes to catch my ejaculate and apparently terrified of letting any of my come reach her mother's precious carpet. 

Since I had been drained not long before this, I did not last very long, and eventually my feet fell back onto the couch as my fourth orgasm ended. Once Daphne realized I was done, she carefully rolled off of me to keep any of the mess from falling onto the floor.

"You're off the hook for those crunches, John, though you may have gotten quite the workout while your legs were flailing back and forth there," Mrs. Lawson joked. "And good work, Daphne, none of it seems to have landed on the floor. Though you are quite the mess, dear. Great aim, John,"

I opened my eyes and looked over at Daphne, who like me was lying on her back on the floor. Various large stains could be seen across her blouse. At the top of her black capri pants was also a large white puddle, some of which had seeped above her belt line and was now coating her stomach. 

"Ugh, Mom, this is really gross, it's everywhere," Daphne said. Mrs. Lawson leaned back and laughed, which meant she neither saw her daughter reach a finger down to touch the puddle on her stomach and put that finger to her lips nor heard her daughter say "Tasty" afterward. Her mother also didn't notice the much glazed look in Daphne's eyes, and I wondered for a second if I was the only one who had just gotten-off.

"I guess those clothes will have to come off, then," said Mrs. Lawson. "First you can use that shirt of yours to clean the last bit of yours and John's stomachs." Daphne didn't move, still out of it. Her mother spoke louder: "Daphne Elaine, I told you to get that shirt off now."

Daphne had to do this carefully, since she was apparently terrified of letting any of the come on her spill onto the carpet. I wish I had suspected Daphne's evident fear of her mother when my ordeal first began, but I was too terrified of my own situation at the time. I was still terrified, but in my post-coital bliss my mind was roaming. My attention returned as I saw Daphne grab the bottom of her blouse and pull it upwards, exposing more of her tanned tummy (the puddle, which at first seemed huge, was really not that big). Then the bottom of her bra became apparent--dark blue, matching the blouse above it--then the bra cups (holding in what appeared to be rather lovely breasts), then her tanned collarbone and shoulders, and finally the blouse was off and carefully balled in her hands. She looked very embarrassed about standing in front of me in just a bra. I felt myself twitch.

She began to use the balled-up shirt to clean herself off, carefully sweeping up the puddles on her stomach and pants as she did. She kept her other arm across her bra-covered chest, as though to cover herself. She crawled over and kneeled next to me.

"I can't believe I'm in front of you in just my bra," Daphne said, continuing to appear embarrassed. I almost told her that she had a lot of nerve being embarrassed about only wearing a bra when I was lying completely and totally nude on her living room floor, my mortification complete as my member was now shriveled after my latest orgasm. But I didn't say anything as she began wiping up my stomach. She leaned in close to see if she had missed anything, and then whispered to me "My mom is probably right, all of these clothes will need to come off. I probably should start with this bra, since it's so wet."




Girlfriend in Control Ch. 04



Then she did two things at exactly the same time, the latter of which overwhelming me so much that I couldn't enjoy the former: She reached her hands behind her back to unhook her bra, and she leaned in right to my groin and took my shriveled organ in her mouth. I wanted to watch her take her bra off--both to see her breasts and to enjoy someone else being exposed--but as she sucked on me I had to close my eyes. Even though I thought I was now completely drained, I was still 20 years old, and a beautiful woman sucking my tool would cause it to not be shriveled for long. I felt myself begin to harden in her mouth and I started whimpering again.

A second later Daphne disengaged from my semi-erection, spun around, and stood up. I opened my eyes to see her standing, her bare back to me and her bra slung back over her shoulder. I knew she was completely topless but I couldn't see even the slightest bit of her bare breasts. She started walking straight-away from me, heading towards the bedrooms. As she did I still was unable to see anything but her bare back and her unworn bra. "You're right, I really should get the rest of these clothes off," she casually said to her mother as she entered the darkened hallway that led to the other half of the house.

"I agree, dear, that stuff really can make a mess," Mrs. Lawson said, seemingly unfazed that her daughter had just been completely topless in front of her and had been sucking on my semi-hard member a moment earlier.

Daphne had clearly stopped just within the hallway--far enough into the darkness so that I couldn't see her, but close enough that we could easily hear everything she said. "I really don't want to bring this stuff into my room, if it's alright I'm just gonna strip right here," she said.

"That's fine," her mother responded, "then you can just run it down to the hamper in the bathroom."

"I probably shouldn't run," Daphne said with a laugh. "Since my tits are hanging out it might hurt a bit." I still hadn't moved, but I could feel myself start to harden again. Mrs. Lawson walked and stood over me, watching the progress of my erection.

"That's right," she said to her daughter (or in the direction of her daughter's voice), I forgot you were completely topless. We are a family of large-chested women, it hurts for us to run without a bra." 

"Actually," Daphne replied, "at this point I'm only in my panties, since those pants had so much come on them. I may never wear them again."

I was nearly full-flag again, and Mrs. Lawson was enjoying what she saw. She continued speaking to her daughter's darkened form as though I wasn't lying there, nude and hard (again) on her floor.

"Are those one of the new panties we bought last weekend?" Mrs. Lawson asked.

Suddenly an arm was thrust into the light, a tiny piece of cloth hanging from the end of one illuminated hand. "It's this pair, Mom," Daphne said. The blue material in her hand matched the bra I had seen her remove. When I realized that Daphne was now fully naked in the darkened hallway my erection throbbed, and I found myself once again very hard under Mrs. Lawson's watchful gaze. 

Daphne's arm retracted. "I can't believe I'm standing here stark naked in our hallway, Mom. Could you imagine if someone saw me right now? Without anything on? And I can't even put these clothes back on because they're covered in come. I better find something to wear, otherwise I'm going to be stuck naked for a while."

At that moment Daphne appeared at the end of the hallway--but the image was perfect. She was pressed against the doorway so that all I could see was a bare leg, the side of her bare torso, her bare shoulder and arm. She was clearly very naked but was also very covered and safe from my viewing. She blew me a quick kiss and disappeared into the darkened hallway again.

Mrs. Lawson continued to stand over me, her robe billowing around her slightly. "I forgot, John, how much you enjoy when a woman gets naked for you, even when you can only hear her."

I should have realized Daphne's whole blow job/striptease was a set-up, since these women had been controlling me the whole time. After I came while on the phone with Katie, Mrs. Lawson saw that I got hard again quickly when she made Katie strip; after my most recent explosion, she knew I would get hard again if she had Daphne strip. By having her do it in the darkened hallway, Daphne remained unexposed while I hardened quickly, Mrs. Lawson's (and Daphne's) dominance over me now established. She turned and sat herself on the couch.

"I have really enjoyed this evening, John, and I know Daphne has as well. You've been a good sport, and your ordeal is almost over. At least for tonight... but we'll get to that later. 

"But I've also been a good sport. My panties are beyond soaked, or at least would be if I hadn't taken them off while you were outside with the groceries. The seam of these sweats rubbing against my pussy has been nice, but I need to come really soon. I mean, everyone else has, even Daphne. And you're gonna get me off now. You're gonna eat me out and play with me and I'm gonna scream in ecstasy."

She reached into her bathrobe pocket and pulled out a long, thin, opaque silk scarf. I wasn't sure what it was for, but the thought of it was enough to keep me hard. "I'm going to use this to cover your eyes, so you can't peak at me. Then I'm gonna sit myself on the couch and lower my sweats, spreading my legs to give you easy access to my pussy. Don't be surprised when you don't feel any hair there, I've been waxing it clean for a while now. I never asked, does Katie keep herself well-shaven?"

I was already thinking about Mrs. Lawson's bare snatch and hardly registered the question. Then I said that Katie had a small landing strip, but was otherwise smooth.

"Nice," mused Mrs. Lawson. She had me sit-up on my knees, my erection now poking against the front of the couch. She pulled the scarf over my eyes, and it was suddenly dark. I heard the rustling of clothing, and the sound of a sigh. Her voice next came slightly from my left, as though her head was now at that end of the couch.

"Now, John, I know I'm laying here open for you, but this is really just for me. You are not to come again--not on my couch and not inside me. You can use your mouth and your hands, but not your dick. I want it exposed, not covered up being inside me.

"You will begin shortly. I did forget to mention, however, that you have exactly two minutes to get me to come. If you can't get me off in two minutes, then you'll be outside nude and the evening will be over, the key lost forever. But if you can make me scream your name in two minutes then the key is yours.

"Dinner is served now, John. Dig in."

My two minutes had started. I wanted to torture this woman but I knew I had to satisfy her or deal with the consequences. I kept one leg on the ground, but used the other to lean on the couch. I moved my head straight towards where Mrs. Lawson's voice was and planted my lips on hers, forcing her mouth open as I kissed her passionately (she had never specified the rules on kissing). That clearly surprised her, but she kissed me right back. My right hand moved down towards her snatch, but stopped at the edge of her shirt. I pulled up the bottom of her tank top enough so I could get my hands on her D-cups. I reached her right breast first and quickly attacked her nipple, tweaking it and scratching her gently with my nails. I moved my mouth and found Mrs. Lawson moaning and writhing under my hands, bucking gently.

"You know, Mrs. Lawson, you're lying here wide-open," I whispered directly into her ear, as I continued my assault on her chest, now playing with the left nipple. "Your cunt is completely exposed and dripping right onto your bathrobe. I should probably cover it up for you." She kept on moaning. 

I quickly moved away from her head, and my right hand was rubbing her pussy lips a second later. She had been telling the truth, she was completely bare below her waist and was soaking wet. My left hand was still working on her chest, grabbing and pulling at her breasts as she responded to my touch. With my right hand I was doing everything I could think of to her pussy: spreading the lips and attacking her clit, running my finger below and playing with the bottom of her ass crack, and finally plunging two fingers deep into her very wet hole. She bucked for a second and I thought it had worked, but she didn't slow down for a second so I thought I couldn't either. About 40 or 50 seconds had elapsed and I was slowly realizing that as a 20-year-old guy I did not have a large repertoire of sexual techniques. 

I abandoned my manual attack and moved my head down to her wide-open pussy. I wasn't very good at cunnilingus to begin with, and the blind-fold would only make it worse, but I had to try it. I used my hands to grab the top of her thighs, spreading them as wide as possible. I rushed my head in but cautiously approached her pussy, not wanting to hurt her (I wasn't really thinking clearly). I found the spots I wanted mostly by feel, sure now that at least one minute had passed. I attacked her clit with my tongue while my fingers spread her lips and my right thumb played inside her hole. I gently bit down on her clit (Katie had always liked when I did that), and again Mrs. Lawson bucked, but did not calm down. 

The worst part was that I was getting close again, which meant I had to find away to get her off while keeping myself from coming as well. I knew my time was nearly up and I was desperate, so I thrust my tongue into her hole, pushing it out as far as it could go. At the same time, I reached my hand under her and inserted my pinky directly into her anus. I had never done that before, and the thought that some part of me was in another person's ass was enough for my 20-year-old self to stave off another orgasm.

However, that was exactly what Mrs. Lawson needed, as she bucked underneath me wildly, then threw her thighs together (nearly crushing my head in the process). As I tried not to black out (she had incredibly powerful thighs), I heard her scream the one word I needed to hear: "YES, JOHN, YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I fell back to the other end of the couch, a slight smile on my face, as though we had just both finished a great round of sex instead of just her. To say my head was swimming would be a gross understatement. Mrs. Lawson finished coming down, and I heard her let out a long breath. And then she said "Who said you could stop, John?" My heart began racing, until I heard her chuckling again.

"That was wonderful, John, thank you... I was just playing with you, you did good work. Stand up now, I want you in front of me again."

I probably looked silly, trying to regain my footing while blind-folded. But, since I was also very naked and very hard, I doubt anyone watching would have been looking at my feet. 

I felt hands reaching around my head, and then the scarf came off. The light was bright and I shielded my eyes against it for a moment. Once I had adjusted I saw that Mrs. Lawson was still laying on the couch, though as she promised her sweats were covering her again and I couldn't see any of the area I had just been playing with. I now knew what Mrs. Lawson's chest and crotch areas felt like but could never claim I had seen either. 

Daphne now held the scarf behind me, though she too was bubbling over at what just happened. "That was so hot," she said. "First when he kissed you, Mom, then when he started playing with your tits, and finally watching him 'dig-in'." She chuckled--she had clearly watched the entire show and loved what she saw. Evidently her mother had not minded this, since she was still smiling softly on the couch. I wondered a lot now about this mother and daughter pair.

"Alright, John, hands behind your back," Mrs. Lawson ordered, and I didn't connect this command (which I had heard frequently this evening) with Daphne and the scarf. Suddenly my wrists were tied together behind me, and I was bound and exposed. I struggled against the knot, but Daphne clearly had a lot of practice with these and there was no way I was getting out of it without help.

I had thought the striptease-ploy was the final defeat, but this was much worse. I was not only still very naked and very hard in front of these two very clothed women, but now I was both nude and tied. I imagined these two putting me on their front porch like that, now that they had both gotten-off. 

But I was wrong--at least, mostly wrong. Mrs. Lawson spoke up, while Daphne--now in a long-sleeved button down shirt and jeans (and her trademark flip-flops)--remained behind me, holding my hands (which was really unnecessary, as I could hardly move). 

"John, you did everything we asked of you this evening, and so you've earned your key." Mrs. Lawson pulled a key out from her robe as she sat up. Years later I now realize that this key could have been for anything, but at the time I was sure it was the key I needed: the one to my front door, to my clothes, to my future. 

"Daphne will be walking you home to make sure you don't trip or get hurt. Or worse, get assaulted by kids around the neighborhood who are wondering why a tied, nude man is walking around their block. If she feels that you have behaved during the walk then she will open your front door for you and let you in to find your clothes. If not, then she'll probably just leave you completely nude on your front porch, maybe tied to the door handle."

I was whimpering a little again, and I blubbered that I'd be good.

Daphne giggled at that. Then she reached around me to grab my erection, to turn me back to facing their front door. Mrs. Lawson had stood up, and she began walking with her daughter (who was still leading me by my throbbing member) towards the door. I thought, again, that at any second Daphne would throw the door open and Mrs. Lawson would push me out--then they'd close and lock the door again, laughing as I stood nude and tied under their front porch spotlight.

But instead, as we approached the door, Mrs. Lawson came around and stood in front of me. "Thank you, John, for a very wonderful evening. I haven't smiled this much in years." Then she reached out and grabbed my ass, pulling me close to her. I was pressed against her, my very naked body feeling very weird against her very clothed one. Although the moment was more affectionate than I had expected it to be, I was still deeply reminded about how nude I was and how dressed she was. She then pulled me in for a quick embrace (which I could not reciprocate, since I was still tied) and kissed me deeply. "Maybe we can do this again tomorrow," she said, grabbing my erection one last time as Daphne opened the door.

The porch and exterior lights were now on, and anyone looking in this direction would clearly have seen two very clothed women escorting a very naked and tied man out their front door. They would also have seen the younger of these two women walk out holding the naked man's erection, guiding him towards the corner of the porch, as though the two would be cutting diagonally across the front lawn. And then they might have seen the older of the two women (but not an old woman, not in any sense of the word) look longingly after the pair for a moment before gently closing the door against the outside elements.

But I had no chance to appreciate the romantic side of our departure, as I was now back outside totally naked... and this time my arms were tied behind my back. Daphne had actually dropped behind me a little as we stepped off the porch and onto the lawn. Suddenly she turned on a flashlight, bathing my entire body in the very bright light.

"Hey, Mom said that you had already come three times before coating me with it that last time, is that true?" she asked loudly, walking with the flashlight illuminating any inch of me she could shine it on.

I kept my head down and muttered yeah.

"So you've already come four times since this afternoon? That's really too bad," she added, as a mischievous look appeared unseen on her darkened face, "because your night is definitely not over yet. At least, not if I have anything to say about it..."



Girlfriend in Control Ch. 05



"Watch your step," Daphne said for the tenth time, as we made our way across her lawn towards the street. "You know, since you're not wearing shoes. Or socks. You really should wear shoes and socks when you're walking outside." With my hands tied behind me, I was walking very, very slowly as to not fall over. An important consideration given that I was less than fully dressed. Much less.

She shined the flashlight on me again, illuminating my predicament for anyone in the neighborhood looking our way. "Yup, no shoes, no socks. Wait a second," she continued, as if she was noticing something for the first time, "no shirt either. That's weird. Why aren't you wearing a shirt when you're outside, like I am? You have to be careful of bug-bites. You could get bites on your chest, back, and tummy." She was speaking to me as though I was a small child.

"And on your legs," she continued. "That's why you have to wear pants when outside. Look at me, I'm wearing a very comfy pair of jeans that's keeping my legs safe. But you... I can't see your pants at all. Or your underwear. But that can't be right. If you're not wearing a shirt, and you're not wearing pants, and you're not even wearing underwear... why, it looks like you are COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY NAKED!!!" She nearly screamed this last bit.

Daphne commanded me to stop, and walked directly in front of me. I was at the edge of her lawn, my next step would take me on to the street surface itself, where she was already standing. She reached out her hand and grabbed my erection, bare and cool in the evening breeze. As she had reminded me upon our departure from her house, I had already come four times that afternoon/evening, so I wasn't on a hair-trigger even though this attractive and fully-clothed female was grabbing my erection while ogling my naked body under the illumination of her flashlight.

But I was close. I was mortified, humiliated, embarrassed, and (for the most part) emotionally and psychologically defeated. What had started hours ago with a few simples dares from my girlfriend had led to me standing totally nude and tied in the middle of my parents' neighborhood. Since the moment I had found myself on my back porch, locked out in my birthday suit, I had (almost literally) run a gauntlet of psychological and sexual exploitation: I had streaked across my street to my neighbor's house (hoping that she still had a spare key to my house), only to have this neighbor keep me as her and her daughter's naked slave for the evening. I had been the nude art on display as the two women ate dinner (only after they had me naked--exposed and twirling--under the spotlight of their front porch), followed by me serving as their evening entertainment, performing demeaning acts under the constant threat of being tossed out of their house without any hope for covering... and without the spare key. A key which Daphne had in her jeans pocket--and which I wouldn't see again unless I behaved for her on this walk between our houses. I was completely in her control, as Daphne continually reminded me.

Her grip on my erection was good, though I wouldn't have considered trying to get away if it wasn't. She was enraptured by my circumstances. "Omigod, I still can't believe how incredibly naked you are. Your dick is completely uncovered and in my hand, your balls and your ass are just bare and hanging out. You don't even have shoes--you don't have anything!

"And you're all mine," she sighed, still relishing her control over me. "You're tied up and naked and I can have you go anywhere or do anything I want. I can throw you in my car, and drive to the local mall--I could walk you out naked into the middle of the food court--or maybe over to our old high school and have you run around the football field for me. You're so naked, you're so exposed!! I know, we could walk you over to Allison's house."

Allison had been in Daphne's high school class, and her house was on the next block. The prospect of having to walk to Allison's house in my current attire was demoralizing; the idea of Allison standing at the door hysterically laughing as she would watch Daphne walk me up the front walk tied and nude was enough to make me start whimpering again.

Daphne started pulling me again, and I stepped on to the street, still blubbering and begging her not to make me go to Allison's naked, not to make me walk down our street, tied up and nude. 

"I hadn't really considered going all the way to Allison's," Daphne said, walking ahead of me with one hand still on my erection , "but now that you've started talking back to me I may have to, just to remind you who's in charge. 

"But I don't feel like walking all the way there, and I don't feel like sharing you with anyone else... at least tonight. Maybe tomorrow Mom and I will have a bunch of our friends over for an afternoon get-together, and you'll be there to serve us. I'm sure all the women will be happy to come by--I mean, how often will they have the chance to be waited-on by a stark naked man? Well, I guess at our house there'll be plenty of that opportunity for the rest of the summer..."

By this point we had crossed the street, Daphne speaking loudly about her plans for me as I tried not to respond at all--an effort made more difficult since my feet were now noticing that the uncomfortable asphalt had been replaced by the twigs and rocks of my parents' front lawn. I refused to think about her comment about tomorrow's potential party (specifically, her potential CFNM party), instead focusing on the fact that I was back on my own property, no more than 25 feet from my front door. Daphne continued to pull me by my erection towards the door, all the while talking about whatever embarrassing thing she could think of.

"I can't even imagine how you feel right now," she commented, "walking up your own lawn stark raving naked. What if you walked up to the front door, and your parents answered it?" I knew they weren't home yet since their car wasn't in the driveway, but Daphne wanted to savor my reaction to the image. "Imagine I'm not here to explain, it's just you, tied up and nude and walking up to your front door. And suddenly, your mother opens up and is standing there, her mouth dropping open. Would she start laughing, pointing at you as your dick bounces up and down in front of her? I wonder, would she even let you in? How great would that be if she just closed the door in your face, leaving you outside and naked, tied up with nowhere to go?"

I did my best to ignore her, concentrating solely on the realization that she had now stepped on to my front porch (I followed her shortly thereafter, since she was still pulling me) and was now only feet from the front door. The front light was off since I hadn't planned to be away from the house when the sun went down. 

She stood next to the door and reached her hand into her jeans pocket (her other hand never left my erection). "You know what would be really awesome?" she asked, pulling the key out of her pocket. I didn't reply. "If it turned out this wasn't the right key. Mom said she thought this was your spare key, but it could be for anything."

Then she said the one thing I refused to hear: "Then you would have gone through all this for nothing." I didn't make a noise but a few tears began to fall. At that moment, I would have given anything--my soul, my blood, whatever--for Daphne to make the key work. But I was sure it wouldn't. I was sure that all of that evening had been for the purpose of destroying me, of crushing my self-esteem, and that the key would fail to open the door and Daphne would laugh and leave me naked and tied on my front porch. Or she'd walk me to her car, or over to Allison's house, or leave me naked in the middle of the busiest mall or street in the city. And at that moment I knew I would follow her: that I would do whatever Daphne wanted me to do, go wherever she wanted me to go, serve nude whichever of her family or her friends that she commanded me to serve. 

But then she put the key in the lock, and the key turned. She pulled the latch down and my front door opened. "But I have the whole rest of the summer to parade around my naked slave," she said, stepping through the doorway. She let go of my erection and looked at me leeringly. "Starting now," she added. Suddenly the front door light went on and I was again naked in a spotlight. She stood there, dressed in her blouse, jeans, and sandals, my fully-clothed master. "See you later," she finished. And then she stepped back as she had at her own house, and closed the door in my face. I heard the now-familiar click, and I was once again locked out naked.

I couldn't believe it. For a moment I had seen the inside of my house--where my clothes and my covering was. And now I was locked out again--tied and nude and shaking on my brightly lit front porch. I looked through the front door window but she was no longer in the foyer or living room. The hallway light was on (which I had not done) so she was clearly in that half of the house. I could see no further. 

I tried ringing the doorbell but couldn't get my hands around to reach it. My erection was certainly hard enough to do it, but was far too low. After a couple minutes I was able to bend down and use my nose--I felt ridiculous, but that must have been what Daphne was waiting for since the door opened promptly. I looked up to see her fully-dressed and smirking (my face was still near the doorbell) and holding something in her hand.

"Hey, I found your bathing suit," she said, and showed me that the suit was exactly what she was holding. "This was the last thing you had on, huh? So many hours ago... Completely and totally naked all this time. But, here, you can have it now." She held it out to me. I struggled furiously against the bonds, hoping to grab that one shred of covering, but they wouldn't budge. 

"You don't want it?" she asked, seeming surprised that I hadn't yet taken the suit from her hands. "You sure? Because, without it you're kinda totally and completely nude." She laughed again. "Oh well, I guess I'll put it with the rest of your clothes."

She dropped the suit and my heart stopped when I saw where it landed. Daphne had brought my duffle bag--the one with all the clothes I had in the house--to the front door, and had just added my bathing suit to the collection. I wasn't sure how much was in the bag--but Daphne was way ahead of me on that.

"I have put every stitch of your clothing I could find into that bag. And I plan to take it with me and leave you here stark raving naked," she explained, casually speaking to me as if she talked to tied naked men on their doorstep all the time. "Unless you can accomplish one more dare for me." With that she grabbed my erection and pulled me into the house, closing the door behind me. Whatever Daphne had in mind, at least I was inside my own house. Somehow, sometime soon, I would find covering. I hoped.

She locked the door behind us and pulled me around and onto a living room couch. My folks kept this room like a museum, and it felt very strange to be sitting bare-assed on one of their prized sofas. "Now, stay, boy," she commanded, but unnecessarily--sitting back on the sofa with my hands tied behind me I wasn't sure I could find a way to achieve a standing position. Daphne chuckled and bent lower, stretching her tongue out to gently lick the tip of my erection. I throbbed visibly and moaned quietly. Then she walked back towards the hallway, disappearing again from view.

"The one dare is simple," she exclaimed from whichever room she had entered. "You see, you're gonna get to fuck me silly. Right now, sitting exactly where you are." I felt my erection start to throb involuntarily again, and I knew that I was frighteningly close. Which was a problem, as I was about to learn. 

I saw Daphne walking towards me in the hallway; however, she looked different. She had no shoes, and she wore no pants. Her long sleeve button-down shirt was all I could see--it covered to just below her crotch, so I had no idea if she was still wearing her panties. But she cleared up the matter for me: Standing only a few feet away, she reached her hands down under the sides of her shirt and grabbed at something--seconds later the remains of her blue thong fell down her legs and on to the floor. She saw me react as she stepped out of it, and could tell I was very close to blowing. She chuckled again.

"So, you like looking at me in just my shirt, huh?" she asked. "Liked watching me strip off my panties? You seemed to like it a lot, maybe too much. You don't want to come yet, John, trust me. You see, the dare is simple: You have to make me come... before you do. In about ten seconds I am gonna start riding you like a damn stallion." As she said this she raised her hands, her shirt flaps lifting a little but not enough to see anything beyond her bare upper thighs; at the same time she gently swung her hips back and forth. I nearly burst. "And you're gonna make me come, like you made my mom come, just with your dick instead of that talented tongue of yours. If I come first I'll untie you, and let you keep that bag. But, if you come first then the game's over, and I will get redressed and leave here with all your clothes, so that Mommy and Daddy find their little boy running around their house naked."

"Doesn't seem so hard, does it?" And with that, she turned around and lowered herself over me, reaching down to guide me into her love hole. She didn't need any priming as I slid in, quickly engulfed by her pussy walls as she gasped loudly while facing away from me. I almost burst from the pressure, trying to think of anything but the very sexy, almost naked (though I still hadn't seen anything of her) woman grinding on top of me. She leaned back and said breathily "Actually, it seems very hard... so hard... so damn hard..."

She kept flexing her hips while I tried not to move at all, concentrating on every mundane and boring thing I could. Daphne was moaning as she raised herself up and down on my erection. I was maintaining control--just barely--when Daphne moved her hands to the front of her blouse. "It's so fucking hot in here," she breathed, and began to unbutton her blouse. Or at least, that's what I assumed she was doing; from behind I couldn't see any of it, I just noticed as the blouse collar loosened and began to fall away from her shoulders. Soon the shirt was completely unbuttoned, but it never came off--it pooled at her elbows as her upper back was once again bare in front of me. In my position, I still could not see a glimpse of her bare breasts--though anyone standing in front of her would have loved her magnificent tits bouncing up and down, her fingers tweaking her own nipples, her pussy hair riding above my balls as her legs were spread wide. I was so close to coming that I was scared, though I knew Daphne was close too. I just needed something to send her over.

She had one hand on her breast and the other between her legs. I leaned forward and spoke into her ear: We're gonna rip that shirt off of you and send you out of here stark raving naked, we're gonna send you out onto the street with your tits hanging out and your pussy bare for everyone to see and play with. Guys will be lined up down the street to fuck your naked body all night.

And that did it.

Suddenly Daphne started bucking wildly and screaming, her fingers furiously playing with her clit. She tightened and let one final moan escape her before collapsing on top of me, my erection still hard and deep inside her. A moment later she came out of it and leaned back, smiling. "Baby, that was wonderful. Now, go ahead and come for me, I want to feel you explode inside of me. Don't worry, I'm on the pill." That concern should have gone through my head earlier but it hadn't. I wonder why.

"Not ready to come, yet?" she asked, dreamily. "What if I squeeze these?" And she reached down and gently squeezed my testicles, releasing them as she scratched her nails across my scrotum.

And that did it.

Four previous eruptions had muted my orgasm, but at 20-years-old I was still capable of a fair amount of come when banging someone like Daphne Lawson. And come I did. Every rope caused her to lift up and me to moan. After I finished we both slumped there, sated, not moving for several minutes.

"That was nice," Daphne said, standing up as my deflating organ slipped out of her, probably causing a stain on the couch (not that I cared at that point). She remained looking away from me as she buttoned up her shirt. Once done she turned back around, covered again. I realized it was not my lot in life to see Daphne naked. As she walked away from me back towards the bedrooms I closed my eyes--when I opened them both she and the blue thong were gone. A moment later she returned, presentable (with a freshly nailed looked about her) with her pants and sandals back on. Once again she was fully dressed while I remained naked.

"So, a deal's a deal," she said, echoing her mother's words from earlier. However, instead of walking towards me she headed toward the front door and my duffle bag. "Thanks for the bag, it's been a fun night," she said casually, opening the door as I looked on in horror. I said nothing. "Even though I'm taking all your clothes with me--and leaving you here totally naked--at least you got to come five times."

Then she paused in the doorway. "Just kidding," she said, winking at me as she closed the door, turning to me. "Come here, John." I struggled to find my feet, eventually getting on one knee before righting myself. Between my tied hands and my five orgasms I was literally falling down on my feet. I walked over to her, still fearing that somehow I'd end up naked (either inside or outside) when this was over. 

But Daphne reached around me an undid the knot easily, and my hands were free again. Daphne held them both in front of her, as if we were boyfriend and girlfriend ending a wonderful date. The image almost made me smile, though my head was still swimming, and my member was shriveled and hanging sadly. 

Like her mother had done, Daphne pulled me in tight for a long embrace, and again I felt uncomfortable as my nude body pressed against her clothed one. "Thanks, John, this really has been great," she said, nibbling on my ear. "We'll have to do this again soon."

She opened the door behind her and turned to leave. I noticed she wasn't near my bag this time. "And we will, John. We'll be seeing you soon. All of you, with all our friends, all the time, our totally nude John..." 

And with that pseudo-threat, Daphne walked out the door and headed back to her house, I'm sure to regale her mother with what had happened in her absence. After watching her go for a second I closed the door. I was back home, I had my clothes at my fingertips. I had tears in my eyes that my ordeal was finally over. 

Except it wasn't. And it wasn't going to be over anytime soon, as Katie made perfectly clear shortly thereafter.

After Daphne left, I rolled the suitcase back to my room, still nude. Daphne had been telling the truth: no loose clothing was lying around my room, and every item really was in the bag... and every item really would have left with Daphne if I had not held up my end of the deal. I didn't want to think about what would have happened then, if Daphne had taken the bag and left me nude at my parents' house. I unzipped the duffle and quickly found a t-shirt, shorts, and boxers. I slipped on the boxers first, loving the instant feel of covering, of my ass no longer bare and my member no longer exposed. The shorts as well. The shirt felt wonderful as I pulled it over my head, my arms through the sleeves. In just two seconds I had gone from very naked to completely covered. I then remembered the portable phone, lying out in the backyard. Now that I was dressed I ran for the back door--remembering to prop it open this time--and found the phone exactly where I had left it. Seconds later the phone was charging and I was safely in my room, trying to put my day behind me as I stood there completely dressed.




Girlfriend in Control Ch. 05



This was a fact I learned Katie truly hated when I called her a minute later to let her know I was home, safe. Safe she liked, dressed she didn't. 

She picked up the phone, quickly saying "Hello?" in a breathless voice.

I remembered our last phone call (orchestrated by Mrs. Lawson), so I just said: Hey, it's me. 

"You're not on speaker-phone. Are you still at the Lawsons? Do they still have you completely bare-assed naked? Tell me you're still naked, still exposed for Mrs. Lawson and her daughter."

No, I told her, I was home and safe now. Mrs. Lawson gave me the spare key and so my folks will never know about tonight. 

Katie was clearly relieved, but still slightly disappointed. "I can't believe she just handed you the key and let you walk out the door. Oh wait, did she at least make you streak back across the street? Tell me she didn't give you any clothes to walk home in."

Like my first interaction with Mrs. Lawson (when I was standing on her front porch with only my hands covering me), this conversation was also not going the way I wanted it to. I had just wanted to tell Katie I was home and safe, and that I would be returning to college with her in a few weeks since my folks would never be the wiser about tonight. I was not planning the conversation to last long enough for her to hear about my naked exercises, eating-out Mrs. Lawson, my tied-nude walk back home, or banging Daphne just minutes earlier on my parents' couch. Once we hung up (quickly), I was planning to slip into my pajamas (I normally slept in only a pair of shorts, but tonight I was definitely planning to wear a shirt as well just to enjoy the additional covering) and head to sleep. Katie, however, seemed to want all the details of the evening that had occurred since our earlier conversation (the one where Mrs. Lawson had made Katie strip naked) had concluded.

I told her simply that I had, in fact, walked home totally naked, and had not found any covering until I was back in my room. That I had remained nude for every second between her stripping off my bathing suit on the porch until walking into my bedroom immediately before calling her.

Again, Katie wouldn't let it go at that. "No, you need to tell me everything that happened since her daughter got home. I was so horny that it hurt, even after I came that last time. You completely bare-assed naked in her kitchen, with her daughter about to find you like that? I've fingered myself so many times tonight my poor pussy is sore. But I want more. Did you fuck them? Did you fuck Mrs. Lawson and her daughter? Did you do them at the same time, maybe with them both lying on their backs next to each with their legs in the air?"

Not surprisingly I found myself hardening again at the image this presented in my mind, though oddly in the picture both Daphne and her mother had long shirts on which still covered them while I was nude and alternating between nailing each of them. I told Katie about dinner, and mentioned that the women had me entertain them with naked exercises. But when it came to describing the events that followed that, I wasn't sure Katie would be okay with the fact that I had sex with another woman (even under duress--after all, what straight guy can honestly say sex with a woman who looked like Daphne was ever 'under duress'?), so I toned down my enthusiasm while keeping most of the facts intact. I said that in order to get the key I had been required to eat-out first Mrs. Lawson on her couch and then Daphne when we got back to my place. After that last sentence I realized my mistake.

"Wait," Katie said, "Daphne walked back with you? Why did she need to do that? Where else would you go besides home? I mean, you were completely and totally bare-assed naked--did they think you'd go to the mall instead?" I didn't respond for a second, since the mall comment struck a little too close. 

I also couldn't think of a good alternative explanation for why Daphne was required to come with, and basically went with the truth: The women had tied my hands behind me, so Daphne came with to make sure I got home safely.

Katie was breathing heavily again, I knew the picture of me naked and tied had got her going. Worse was that I was now very hard inside my boxers--I didn't like the thought I was still aroused by the humiliation I had been put through. But my humiliation was not over yet.

"They... tied... you... up..." she breathed. "You were tied and nude? You were at their mercy? They had you tied, nude, locked out, exposed... and really, really hard, I'm guessing." Something was happening to Katie, something beyond sexual, something transforming. The idea of me as the naked slave, dominated not for a few orgasms but for complete control, was taking over her. When she spoke again, I heard an edge of authority that had only been at the periphery through the rest of today's ordeal. 

"John, I still have one question: Why are you dressed now?"

I pretended not to hear that. 

"John, answer me. Why aren't you standing there completely naked?"

I took a breath and then responded that I was really enjoying wearing clothes after everything that had happened that evening. I tried to make light of her tone--I was hoping to avoid what I knew was coming. Katie ignored me entirely.

"John," she reiterated, the new command in her voice impossible to disregard, "whenever you are on the phone with me you need to be stark naked. Tonight, tomorrow, for the rest of the summer, and until I tell you that it's no longer necessary. Do you understand me?"

I was beaten--I found myself whimpering again. I begged her to let me stay dressed, pleading with her about how I had been nude for so long this evening. Telling her that I had been exposed and humiliated and just wanted to be covered for a little longer. I was also harder at that moment than I had been all day--I was so turned on my head started to spin--but I couldn't tell her that. She probably already knew it.

"John, you need to strip it all off now," she said, her voice reasonable as she explained to me how obvious it was that I was meant to be naked again for her. "You need to be standing in the middle of that room in your birthday suit, your cock pointing straight out and exposed for anyone to see. I'll give you a few seconds to take care of that." She went silent.

I knew at that second I should hang up and never talk to her again. She wasn't playing anymore, wasn't daring me to strip because it would be fun for both of us--she was expecting me to do it as a part of my tribute to her. Or something like that. Nothing was making sense. 

My shirt came back off as I put down the phone, and my shorts soon followed. I was standing in my room in just my boxers... but for a few moments those boxers had felt wonderful as they had covered my most private parts--parts that had been exposed to the Lawsons and the whole neighborhood today. I put my hands inside the waistband and gently pulled the boxers off my hips and down my thighs, being careful to go over and around my erection. The boxers fell past my knees and down to my feet. I stepped out of them with a shudder.

I was nude again. After hours of working for the privilege to get redressed, my girlfriend had stripped me naked with only a couple sentences over the phone. I looked down at the clothes I had been allowed to wear briefly. I told Katie that it was done.

"Good," she said, though she no longer seemed as sexually excited by the prospect. "Whenever you call me you will be in this outfit, and whenever I call you you will disrobe immediately. Also, whenever you are alone in your room you'll be naked. And, you will sleep nude tonight--I know you were probably going to wear those shorts you always do but there will be no need for them... not for a while. You'll sleep nude every night you are home. Do you understand?"

I knew she wasn't kidding. In her mind I had become her naked slave, not as a fantasy but as a fact of our life together. And since I knew it as well--that I was her slave, to be kept and paraded around completely bare-assed naked whenever she wanted me to be--I said the only words that mattered: Yes, Katie.

"Good," she acknowledged. "You should be covered around your folks, but otherwise you will remain naked whenever possible. Once we get back to campus we'll figure out how it will work there. Obviously you won't wear any clothes when we're in either of our dorm rooms: Whatever I am wearing--whether it's t-shirt and shorts, or sweats, or flannel pajamas--your accompanying outfit will be nothing. We'll decide when it's necessary for you to dress and when you will be permitted to stay naked." She made this last statement as though she was doing me a favor keeping me nude.

I felt like I was in someone else's dream, completely out of control. I simply said Thank you, Katie.

"At some point we will probably get rid of all your clothes all together," she continued, seemingly without effort. "One night I'll empty your drawers and closets while you sleep nude, and in the morning you will find that you do not own a single stitch of clothing to your name. Actually, that won't work since you will need to dress occasionally to appear in public." She thought for a moment. "Instead, one afternoon you'll come back from class to find padlocks on all your drawers and closets. That way I will be able to determine when it is absolutely required for you to be covered. Otherwise you will remain in just your birthday suit. After a while you won't even remember why you ever bothered to get dressed before this.

"By the way, John, feel free to jack off whenever you need to. I'm sure all this new information has been very stimulating for you."

I said thank you again as I grabbed my erection in my hand. After a few strokes I knew I was about to blow--for the sixth time that day--which was a clear sign of how ridiculously aroused I was over Katie's new rules and her nonchalant way of describing them to me. I grabbed the recently discarded boxers to catch the mess--I understood I wouldn't need them anytime soon.

After I recovered from this latest orgasm I realized just how exhausted I was. Katie also sounded tired. As with a million previous conversations Katie told me she loved me and I responded in kind. Then we hung up. Prior to disconnecting Katie had made no effort to remind me not to redress--and she hadn't need to. I dropped the soiled boxers into the laundry and then climbed into bed, naked as I had been nearly all day and would be for as long as Katie told me to remain so. It felt strange to be nude in the bed that I had slept in as a boy, but there was no possibility for that situation to change: Katie had told me to sleep nude every night I was home, and that's what I was doing. Even though it was only mid-evening I fell asleep shortly thereafter. 

Some time later I awoke as the front door was opened, my folks finally home after the long day away. Although half-asleep I quickly looked at the clock--I had been unconscious for about three hours. I could hear them walk to their room, doing whatever parents did at the end of their day. A few minutes later I heard a gentle knock on my door (which was closed) and my mother entered. My lower half was covered but it still seemed surreal to see her walking towards me as I lay nude under the sheets. She asked if I was awake and I said yes. I asked her how her day was and she said fine, that they had a nice time.

She asked how my day was and if I did anything exciting. I said no, just catching up on some reading. She seemed satisfied as she turned to walk out the door. Then she paused.

"It's strange," she said. "Mrs. Lawson--you remember her from across the street--left a message on the answering machine. You didn't hear the phone ring?"

I heart stopped for a second--a common occurrence during this significantly intense day of mine. I told my mother that it must have rung when I was in the bathroom--I had forgotten to bring the portable with me. She seemed to accept that.

"She said that she thought she saw you out running this morning," continued my mother, referring to my frequently observed morning ritual of a five-mile run, "and was wondering if--since you were home--would you mind coming over to their house tomorrow to help set-up for some party Daphne is having for all her friends. You don't think that should be a problem, do you?"

If my mother had been paying any attention to me in that way, she would have noticed a twitch in my sheets as she relayed the message. I realized Mrs. Lawson must have made that phone call during the walk back home, setting the stage for the party Daphne had threatened me with. The party where I was scheduled to be the nude entertainment/bartender/butler. The party my mother had just recommended I attend, never knowing what it would mean.

I responded with Yeah, Mom, that should be fine. My voice was probably cracking.

"Great," my mother said, "I'll go call her back and let her know. I'll find out what time she wants you to come by."

I had a feeling I would be 'coming' by the Lawsons a lot that day. I considered calling Katie in a few minutes to ask her permission, but since I assumed I could be fairly sure what my attire would be for the event I also assumed that Katie would encourage me to attend.

It would turn out that I was right on both assumptions.



Girlfriend in Control Ch. 06



Epilogue

From that night my life changed forever. 

The party the following afternoon was the first of many occasions where Daphne and her mother invited women friends over to be waited upon by their naked slave. Afterwards, Mrs. Lawson called my mother to request my assistance for the rest of the summer in helping clear out their attic; my mother happily volunteered me, and so I spent much of the remaining weeks of the summer at the Lawsons' house. During those weeks I did help clear out their attic, rearrange furniture, clean the drapes, etc.--all in only my birthday suit. I would walk through the front door and promptly be commanded to strip, leaving my clothes in a pile by the front door. If the work was difficult I was given work-gloves; in the case of the attic, I had work-gloves and a mask... but nothing else. Daphne and her mother fed me during these visits--and occasionally helped me get off (or had me get them off)--but mostly I was there to submit to whatever commands they thought of. Sometimes they helped with the projects they had for me; however, they always remained fully clothed while I was required to work in the nude. During the first few days I had been disappointed with this arrangement, but by the time I left for school I had come to accept that this way was how it was supposed to be: These women deserved to wear clothes and be protected while I deserved to be kept naked and vulnerable. I no longer felt entitled to wear anything.

While around my house I kept myself covered in the presence of my parents. I stripped off whenever they weren't around--spending most of the time completely naked in my room--and I slept in the nude every night, as ordered by Katie. I called her when I had done each the first few times, but after a while I stopped calling her specifically for this--it had become a natural part of our relationship, my getting naked as per Katie's command. She stopped asking if I was nude when we spoke on the phone, as we both began assuming this was to be the case. During those weeks my parents frequently found me lying under my covers; unbeknownst to them I was complete bare, and would be completely screwed if they had needed me to do anything at that very moment.

If I had any question about Katie's seriousness in my required attire (or lack thereof), it was settled in the first few minutes of our reunion back at school. I walked in to her room, and we quickly entered a deep embrace. She stepped back and pulled out a drawer in one of her dressers, pointing first to me and then to it. I looked at her, hoping she was kidding. She spoke my name out loud. At that moment I had my last chance to walk away from Katie, from the life she wanted me to live as her frequently naked slave. I may have thought about it for half a second, though later I would realize it wasn't even for that long. I stripped quickly, leaving my shoes at the door, and was completely naked in her room in seconds. Katie remained in the t-shirt and jeans she had arrived in as we unpacked and set-up her new dorm room, with me moving heavily luggage and furniture absolutely stark naked. Friends of hers stopped by throughout the day, and although my lack of clothing caught them off-guard initially, most of these women seemed to have expected it... as though Katie had passed on word of the new requirements in our relationship. My erection was handled by most of these women, and my ass and balls were cupped repeatedly as well (Katie took care of my first orgasm that morning, but a few of her friends would help out with later ones). By the end of that first day, the whole all-girls dorm knew that Katie's boyfriend would be required to hang around in the nude whenever he came by--and no one (except possibly me) seemed to have a problem with this arrangement. Before Katie and I went to bed that night I made the long walk down her entire hallway to the token male bathroom on the floor--totally and completely naked. Several women clapped as I trekked in each direction, my head hung down and my erection pointing out.

Katie's domination over me spread from her dorm room to her entire dorm and then onwards to my dorm room and dorm as the year progressed. True to her word, one day I returned from classes to find padlocks on my closet and dressers. Katie stood near the closet, holding the keys for the various locks. Once I had stripped (I was always required to get naked the instant I entered my dorm room), Katie unlocked the closet door and tossed the discarded items in before quickly resealing and relocking the closet. From that moment on I did not have access to a single item of clothing unless Katie permitted it. She did so rarely, and only when I needed to be seen in public; whenever we hung out with friends (either just women or groups of both genders) at either dorm I was always required to be nude. It took a few weeks but most of our friends got used to the arrangement (we did lose some friends during those weeks as well... especially mine). I assume the RA's and possibly even the administrators were aware of the situation, but it was a big school and they had larger problems to deal with than one submissive boyfriend. No children, parents, or faculty ever saw me, even though Katie had me strip in several public places around campus, including the library, the campus gym, and even once in a very large and crowded lecture hall. Every woman we knew loved that it was Katie keeping me naked (rather than me choosing a nudist lifestyle voluntarily); they all had seen (and touched) me naked, while most guys we knew thought I was pathetic... and the worst part was they were probably right.

After college we moved into an apartment complex not far from campus. During the move the boxes with most of my clothing mysteriously disappeared--Katie didn't seem to mind. The first day at the new place Katie let me wear a bathing suit as we went to the complex pool. However, once in the water, Katie swam under and ripped the suit off me, leaving me nude and embarrassed amongst our new neighbors. She tossed it to the side of the pool next to our bag, and asked if anyone minded if she kept her boyfriend naked while we were in the pool--she asked this as she remained covered in a conservative one-piece. All of the women loved it, and several of the men laughed about it. Katie had once again established her dominance over me in front of a new group of people--for the next couple years I would spend much of my time around the apartment complex completely and totally naked, be it in our apartment, someone else's, or even public areas like the pool and fitness room. And I was always the only one naked. Katie would be dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, or a bikini, or work-out clothes, while I remained always nude--she would remind me that I was to be naked for her, and, more importantly, because of her... and true to that, I rarely saw Katie fully naked; although we still sex regularly, she would always keep on a nightgown, or blindfold me, or we would do it in complete darkness, where I could feel Katie exposed but not see it, not relish it. Basically the only times I ever got to see Katie fully naked were on the few occasions when we had visited my folks and were invited to see Mrs. Lawson--although I was never permitted to wear clothing in her house, sometimes Mrs. Lawson also required Katie spend her visit in the nude. In many ways that house has become my favorite place on Earth--though Katie's fury over her humiliation was exacted on me tenfold whenever we return from those visits. 

At some point, Katie decided we should get married, that she loved me and knew she would never find another guy like me. As had become my custom over the years since the night I was first locked out, I said very little and agreed with Katie. We had a small ceremony for family, which was normal and quaint. A couple weeks later we had a larger reception aimed entirely at friends. At the beginning of the event I stood alone in the middle of the dance floor in a long robe, with dozens of people sitting at surrounding tables. Everyone was dressed up to the nines. Katie walked into the room in a wedding gown (she had worn a simple dress for the family ceremony) complete with a veil. As the guests applauded Katie approached and walked around me, and then grabbed the collar of the robe, ripping it from my body. As everyone had come to expect, I was now naked in the middle of the dance floor. The room exploded in cheers as she tossed the robe to some girlfriends. I could not look at anyone--even after a few years of this, I had never really grown to truly embrace my enforced nudity (even if it never failed to arouse me). I longed for the feel of the suit pants that every other man there was allowed to wear, or even something as simple as putting on shoes to dance with my wife. We did dance--I danced with almost every woman at the event--and it was still completely and totally humiliating dancing stark naked with all these very clothed women, their hands roaming over my bare-ass as my erection pressed against their dresses. I hope I leaked pre-cum on every one of them.

After marrying we moved into a small house still in town--the house had a small pool and a decent back yard. Katie kept our female real estate agent highly entertained by having me strip in each room of each house we looked at to get a feel of what our time there might be like. One afternoon I looked at a house without Katie, and the agent told me she wouldn't show it to me alone unless I viewed the entire house while completely in the nude--seconds later I was stark naked in the living room. When we walked onto the back patio she locked the door behind us, and wouldn't let me in to get my clothes unless I jacked myself off in the backyard. We did not end up buying that house.

Our routine has not changed in our new home: I am typically kept nude unless our respective parents come to visit, which happens very, very, rarely. The first time several of our female neighbors came by Katie had me fully dressed when they arrived. During their visit Katie had set me up to spill a glass of water. Once I did, she announced "You know what the punishment is for that, mister."  The other women all became intrigued, and were very impressed with Katie as (without another word) I reluctantly began to strip. When I was only in my boxers (a rare item I was only allowed for the purpose of this one performance), Katie asked her new friends "Does he get to stay in the boxers, or do we make him go naked?" The women all screamed "NAKED!!!", and Katie invited one of them to pull the boxers down and off my feet. Once nude, I covered myself with my hands (not part of the performance--I had foolishly hoped I wouldn't have to continue getting naked for others in this new neighborhood), but Katie had two of the women pull away my hands so that my erection could be exposed to all in attendance. After that she told the women that I would be staying around to serve them drinks and food, and that they should feel free to do whatever they want to remind me of my nakedness as punishment for spilling the water. The women all loved it, and Katie became the center of the neighborhood social circle. 

Sometimes she would have girlfriends over and I would come into the kitchen in a towel (pretending I didn't know they were there), only for Katie (later on it typically would be one of her friends) to rip the towel off of me and play keep-away with it as I vainly attempted to cover myself with my hands, my bare-ass being fondled by the other women in attendance. Other times I would be at the house when she had friends over, and one friend would simply say to Katie "Can't you make him get naked for us?" And the next thing I knew I would be in the middle of our living room, stark naked and very hard for her fully-dressed female friends. Nothing had really changed: Simply, a new crowd now knew that our relationship centered on Katie keeping me naked for hers and others' enjoyments. At the adults-only parties around the neighborhood I was typically the entertainment (Katie never exposed me to children)--the lone nude male whose wife controlled every inch of him. I have lost count of the amount of pictures and videos that I have appeared in as the Only One Naked.

We are now going on five years married. Katie has found new ways to humiliate me and get me naked in public places (as well as maintaining the rule of her clothed, me nude, around the house, in the pool, and with our friends). Whenever she can she has us go to a beach or pool, letting me wear a bathing suit as we arrive. However, the bathing suit never has a drawstring in it, and with the first big wave (or the first dive she makes me do), the suit is swept off of me and I am nude in the water. If it's at a beach, I must stand waist-deep in the water frantically looking but pretending I don't see the suit as it drifts away--then I must emerge from the water covering myself with my hands, looking (and being) horribly humiliated as Katie loudly asks me what happened to my suit and why am I naked. If it's at a pool she will swim over and grab the suit as it floats in the water, screaming about how I'm too stupid to keep my bathing suit on. Speaking to me as though to a child, she'll tell me that if I can't remember to tie it then I won't be allowed to wear it--then she'll swim over to the ladder and get out with my suit in her hands for all to see. I can't tell you how many times I have walked back from a pool or beach visit with only my hands for covering. I am also sent out from our hotel room in just a towel to get ice, only for Katie to rip off the towel as I walk out or slam the room door in order to catch the towel as it closes; either way Katie never lets me back in herself, waiting for me to streak the hotel trying to find a maid or female hotel clerk who will let me--a totally naked man using an ice bucket to cover himself--back into my room.

Katie has also befriended most of the women I work with. One day several months ago during our afternoon coffee break one of the women said to me "You're gonna have to get naked as soon as you get home, aren't you?" I hadn't realized at that point that this part of my life was known to this coworker. Nor did I expect her next comment, either: "Since you'll be getting naked in a couple hours, might as well just get naked now. Or do I have to call your wife?" For most guys the threat of your wife finding out something would keep your clothes on around other women--but not me. A moment later I was stark naked in the middle of our coffee room as several of my dressed female coworkers looked me over, laughing the whole time. Although I was allowed to redress then, on many occasions since I have been at my desk completely bottomless, or sat nude in the middle of my fully dressed female colleagues as we drove somewhere for lunch (I would be allowed to redress upon arriving at our destination). Recently one of my coworkers announced that since it was her birthday that she wanted for me to spend the day working in my birthday suit; I spent the day hiding naked in my cubicle--mostly under my desk--and was only returned my shirt and pants when it was time to leave.

Although many of Katie's female friends have hoped to turn their husbands on to such an arrangement, to my knowledge I am the only male amongst the couples we know who has become dominated so completely by his female mate. Every once in a while one of the women at their weekly card games (for which I act as bartender and butler--and, of course, at which I always end up totally bare-assed naked) will announce that she kept her husband nude all day, or pulled off his suit when they were swimming in their backyard and then made him to stay that way, or took the towels out of the bathroom while he was showering and forced him to walk around in the buff until she let him get dressed... and all the while these women remained fully dressed as their respective husbands were made to parade around for them completely naked. However, whenever talk has turned to having parties where all the husbands are required to be completely naked while the wives remained clothed, Katie has made it clear to all that I am the only one to be nude in any crowd. Katie's dominance amongst others is also impossible to ignore, and no woman objects.

Over the years I have learned that Katie has a second fetish beyond keeping me naked while she (and others) remain clothed: Katie also enjoys watching other women get me off, both manually and orally. So, as much as I cringe every time Katie strips me down to my skin in front of her friends (or complete strangers), as long as I stay hard for long enough typically Katie will convince some woman to jack or suck me off (she draws the line at actual intercourse with other women--at least, most of the time). I guess in Katie's mind we've made a deal: I submit to stripping nude (or being stripped) wherever and whenever she desires it and she--in return--will get some fully-covered female to bring me to orgasm. However, once I've come (and recovered) I am always made to keep performing nude for her and her group, and the women especially enjoy taunting me until I am hard again for them. 

One weekend Katie volunteered me to help a woman she knew (a divorcee) cleaning out some boxes she had been meaning to get rid of--Katie had told her how much fun it would be having a naked man to boss around for an afternoon. Katie drove me to the woman's house (two blocks away) and dropped me off completely nude. As I worked in her living room in the buff, the woman saw how embarrassed I was and seemed to take pity on me, offering to get me a towel to cover myself with as I worked. I told her Katie would only give me the towel in order to snatch it from me again, but she only chuckled at that and walked into another room. Moments later she entered the living room while my back was turned, and asked "Do you really want the towel, or would you prefer I hold onto it for you?" I decided she preferred me exposed, so I turned my completely nude self to face her. I found that her outfit matched mine: She was standing in the doorway also stark naked--a thin woman with smallish breasts and a completely shaven crotch--with a towel over her arm. She tossed the towel behind her as she walked towards me, reaching out her hand to grab my erection (I was so excited that I was visibly throbbing, as I almost never got to see a naked pair of breasts, or a bare female ass, or a wonderfully formed snatch--those parts were always covered while my manhood was constantly on display). She took me in her hand and smiled lustily, adding "Because I can think of a couple places to hide this that would be so much nicer than behind a towel." I never got that towel, and I have been kept nude the few times I have returned to help her since that first encounter--but those afternoons have typically not been so bad.

I will never deny that a significant part of me enjoys the events I have described here, and that I would simply have walked away if I did not. The only thing is that I'm not sure if the latter is true: Katie controls everything in my life, and I'm not positive that I would exist without her telling me to. As one last bit of evidence of this, I have sat and written the account of that night (and the description of the events that have followed it) completely nude on our back porch--and I only have written this because Katie told me to write it. There are many more stories about my life with Katie--most of which involve me having and then losing all my clothes at Katie's command as well as the joy Katie and her female friends get from watching/making this happen. I might write some of them someday--that is, if Katie tells me to do so.