Girlfriend In Control Ch 6

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.