(Continued from Part 3)It had been about four months until Carla finally cleared the air.
After having sex that evening, and just about to walk out of the door to head back home, Carla clutched me from behind and held me tight. She kissed my neck. Her nude body felt so warm and soft against my skin, and her taller body and longer arms enveloped me in a protective embrace.
"You belong to me now." she whispered ever so quietly in my ear.
Then she let me go, gave me a pat on the ass, and bid me a safe drive home.
As I drove home the reality sunk in that I was living for her. Everyday I thought of her. I shaved myself smooth for her. I remained nude for her. I kept my body slim and tight for her. Anytime she asked me to do something, I did it, and she rewarded me with her smile, her touch, or her embrace. And if I didn't get an immediate reward I knew she was saving it up for a completely gratifying night of sex. Whatever the case, as long as I did what she asked, I always left her apartment fulfilled.
She was designing clothes for me to wear that would present me in public in whatever sexy and provocative ways her mood suggested. At first, I feared that some of the clothes she had me wear would stir up confrontation from others, or have them call the authorities. But I'm always by her side and trouble has yet to come along. It seems like she knows what the limits are.
I find that I'm happy whenever she's happy. If she's pleased with me, then I know she wants me. And because I want her to want me, I make it my goal to please her.
"I think we should get a bottle of pinot noir." she might say to me when we dine out. And I always answer, "Oh yes! I would love some pinot noir!". "Hmmm, a filet mignon sounds good, what do you think?" she asks. "Oooh, that does sound good!" I answer with a smile.
Ultimately, trust is what makes this relationship work. She knows how far she can push things, hence whatever she wants me to do I know it will be safe. And she can trust that I'll always be ready for her, and that I will never disappoint her.
Carla enjoys dressing me in her designs, walking me outside, and putting me on display. She feels a great sense of pride knowing that she has me under her command, that I'm obedient and loyal, well-mannered with good posture, looking sexy and tight, displaying her creations, and ready to serve her in any way.
To other observers this might look bizarre. They probably think I'm being humiliated. But Carla doesn't humiliate me at all. She treats very well, loves me, caresses me, and cherishes me. She's giving me what I want, a friend, a lover, and someone who knows exactly the kind of fulfillment I need.
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