My Domme Forces me into Nudity at Home
Submitted by Rene G.
This is the story about my strictly forced nudity at home.
The first thing I do when I come home from anywhere is take off all of my clothes. Right there at the front door. When I am at home I must be nude – I am not allowed to wear any clothes. I am also required to remove any makeup I put on to go out. I am to be completely and totally bare of anything I wasn’t born with.
My Domme has told me that it will be this way until I learn to value what is hers; namely, myself.
I’ve always had issues with body image. Like most girls I grew up looking at models and actresses and I never felt I could measure up. I was too short, my hips a bit too round, I didn’t have a thigh gap; there was always something I could find wrong with my body. In the past I would try to compensate with clothes and make up and trips to the salon. I’d spend way too much money on trying to look good to people around me.
When my Domme would tell me I was beautiful I would always roll my eyes and laugh it off. I didn’t realize how this was a sign of disrespect until one day she’d had enough of it. She asked me if I thought she had bad taste. Of course my answer was no, she has amazing taste in everything. She said I must be lying because I consistently questioned the beauty she saw in me.
That’s when she took away my clothes, literally. My entire wardrobe was placed under lock and key in bedroom closet. At home I cook, clean and hang out to watch tv with my Domme nude as the day I was born. On days I have to work she lays out my underwear, my scrubs, and my shoes and I am only allowed to put them on five minutes before time to leave the house.
At first I thought the forced nudity was just a game, a little kinky play that would lead to something hot and wild, but I was wrong. She was very serious. I found out how serious the first evening I got home and found she had bought and placed full length mirrors all around the house. Everywhere I looked I saw a reflection of my naked body. I can’t begin to describe how embarrassing it was to turn a corner and come face to face, and other parts, with what I saw as the cruel truth of my mirror image.
I would walk around the house with my shoulders hunched, trying to cover as much of myself as I could; especially when my Domme was at home. I didn’t want her seeing me. Never mind the fact that she had seen me naked in some way almost every day of our relationship. My mind couldn’t get past the act of casually walking around naked and seeing myself reflected all over the house.
After a week she stood two mirrors facing each other and made me stand between them so I could see myself from both the front and back. She had me describe what I saw. I could only see negative things; a scar here, a stretch mark there, the smattering of freckles across my breasts and shoulders that I had always hated. I saw the wideness of my ass, my knobby knees and bony feet. That she sat there looking at the same flaws gave me such a feeling of complete humiliation. When I couldn’t see my reflection anymore because of the tears she joined me. She went back over each thing I had named as ugly and she told me what she found beautiful about each one.
It’s been three months since my clothes were taken away. I can walk past the mirrors now and look at myself with a smile. I stand straight and proud in my own skin and I no longer question my Domme’s taste. I am a bit worried, though. The other night she casually said that since I had done so well with step one, step two should be a snap.