Walk of Shame

I was dressed dreadfully but to my Lord’s specifications. No underclothing, as per his decree, and only a thin, black cloth wrapped around my body. It was true that the cloth was long and I wDVHnJmQX0AAuewvas, technically speaking, completely covered with the sarong like garment. Nonetheless, I complained, vociferously, all the way to the art showing. Once there the other patrons glanced my way, but, I must admit, showed no special surprise or shock by my appearance. When Lord pointed this out to me, I snipped back, “You set me up, didn’t you. Everyone here has been told I’d appear this way.” (He’s done this to me before to his delight and my humiliation – and eventual delight.) He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You will so very much regret your words and your attitude, Merle. Keep it up. Let’s see just how much trouble you can get into.” We passed the next few hours holding hands and laughing, but I felt the underlying reprimand in my very soul. I had disappointed him and would pay a price for that. Of course, I could always call Parlay and discuss the matter, but I had been a bitch. That much I could not deny. We arrived home, a secluded old house that had once been a fine mansion. I waited for him to open the door of the car and help me out. He grabbed the edge of my sarong and tugged. It was simply wrapped around myDT_pTwEVAAA6qA7 body with no pins or knots, and as such, gave way easily. “Walk,” he commanded. I blushed furiously, horrified to have to walk naked into our home. Then, I had to wait on the porch of him to unlock the door. Once in the house he had me stand with my back against the wall of the living room, a large room with little furniture and a high ceiling. “Do not speak. Just nod if what I say is correct. Naturally, you may call Parlay at any time.” I nodded. “Were you a bitch tonight?” I nodded. “Were you at only point in the evening ashamed of how I chose for you to be dressed?” I nodded. “Did any of the patrons humiliate or intimidate you in any way?” I shook my head. “Do you agree to accept a punishment which will focus on obedience and humiliation?” I licked my lips, then nodded.

“Seven Days,” he commanded. “you will wear no clothing at all on this property – inside or out.” I closed my eyes then nodded. It was the time of year for weeding out the flower garden. I also had the daily chore of caring for my chickens and gathering eggs. It would be chilly, but not cold, with a low predicted of around 45 and a high of around 60.

“For the next month you will wear no underclothing of any kind. You will choose your own clothing, but choose carefully. If I do not approve, you will be spanked until you cry (I do NOT cry easily) and then you will try again.” I nodded my acceptance.

“For the next four hours you will be on strict voice restriction. After that you will speak respectfully. If you do not, you will be gagged for at least an hour.” That was fair. I nodded.


“And to make sure I know where you are or can find you easily, you will wear the belled slave ankles. Additionally, I’ll attach bells to your nipples every morning. This will be the routine for your seven days of nudity” I blushed, but nodded. It was going to be a very long seven days.

slave bells

2 thoughts on “Walk of Shame

  1. Pingback: What they don’t see | Anarie Brady

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