Getting Into the Swing Of Things

Not quite a month living in this apartment with Carla, and I seem to be getting into the swing of things.

I have my daily routine of doing my freelance work in the mornings and afternoons, and then heading to the gym to workout. No more working out in the backyard of my home or jogging on the trails in the hills. It's all this glamor stuff with 30-50 year old women trying to make fashion statements in spin class.

Carla wants me to stay as lean as possible but add just a little bit of tone to my body.

Carla does her part time work and then works on her fashion designs.

I've gotten to know the other residents in the apartment a lot better. I walk down to the mailboxes every afternoon and pass one or two of them by. They're used to seeing me nude. I'm still known as the "naked lady" around here, and they all seem to accept me.

In the evenings we go out to one of the nightclubs around here. Carla will often dress me up in something new, but other times she likes to have me wear a mini-skirt, minus the panties, and a string top.

The collar is still a permanent fixture around my neck.

Teresa, Part 5

(continued from Part 4)

The mutual touching that Teresa and I engaged in had progressed throughout middle school to full blown sex. Teresa's appetite knew no bounds. And she always demanded full control by deciding when and where we'd do it, and when it would finish.

I saw Teresa as someone who wanted me and could never get enough of me. That made me feel fulfilled. Teresa gave me the attention I never received from my mother. Wherever we went, even at school, she always looked out for me. I felt protected and secure.

I used to think that Teresa loved me. But I would later find out that really wasn't the case. She liked me, she desired me, and always thought of me, but I don't think she really ever loved me. I used to love her, deeply. Through having sex, I felt such a deep bond with her, like if she was my other half.

Over the years, her taste for sex progressed to where she needed something more intense, more unique, more perverse. She found a great deal of power in just making me orgasm. She learned how to play me like a musical instrument. She knew how to touch me, rub me, in various ways to evoke different responses. She liked to experiment with toys, with orgasm denial, and then just keep me horny on edge all day long and not bring me to cum until my anxiety was so great, she wanted to hear me flat out cry and beg.

She liked to make me orgasm in public and watch me try to maintain my composure, remain still or quiet. It might be in the movie theater, in the school swimming pool, a store dressing room, even at a restaurant.

When we entered high school, Teresa met some new friends who were lesbians. This group hung out with each other during lunch hour and hung out after school at various places. Teresa of course brought me into the group, and she quickly took charge of that group being its most magnetic personality.

I didn't really feel at all comfortable hanging out in this group. I didn't really see myself as a lesbian; I just saw myself as a girl who somehow found a mother-like figure in another girl my age. It's not like I had any kind of attraction to girls, it was just Teresa.

It came to end a couple months into our freshman year, when Teresa invited one of the girls in the group, Frances, to her house after school. I was there too. Frances had already known that Teresa and her mom were nudists. Teresa took off her clothes and laid on the bed, and told me take my clothes off too, which I then did and laid down on the bed too.

"Take off your clothes too Frances" Teresa said with an authoritative tone. Frances paused, but then started taking her clothes off. When she was nude, Teresa held her hand out and Frances took hold of it. Teresa pulled her over by the bed, and she started stroking her pussy. Frances let out a gasp of air and closed her eyes.

I watched but I didn't really care to, and I didn't really want to be involved in this. Teresa pulled Frances on to the bed, and continued rubbing her clit. Frances opened her eyes and looked at with a smile. She used her index finger and motioned for me to come closer to her. I didn't want to however. I got off the bed and picked up my clothes and left Teresa's bedroom. I put on my clothes and left her house. I didn't talk to her anymore, or see her anymore.

By that time Teresa was so sex crazed and power hungry that I no longer felt her wanting me the way she had used to. She had access to so much more sex now. And I was resisting her attempts to push public orgasm to greater limits that she was becoming frustrated with me.

But through Teresa I learned to love being a nudist. Sex with her had mostly been fulfilling though often scary with her need to do things in public. Up until then I never saw myself as a lesbian, but I found that after Teresa it was the company of other girls that I still wanted most.

Teresa, Part 4

(continued from Part 3)

Towards the latter part of summer vacation, Teresa and I had gotten into the swing of our mutual touching. I had completely gotten over being shy and embarrassed, and Teresa was at a point where anytime we got together she expected us to play with each other. I expected her to want to play with each other. And the more we did this, the more I felt a bond with her.

All this time I had thought her mother didn't know what we had been up to. But I was wrong.

Teresa and her mother always had mother-to-daughter talks in the evening. Her mother would sit in her recliner, and Teresa would sit on the floor next to her, and her mother would brush her hair. They'd talk about what Teresa did that day, usually it was about school, but during the summer it would be about softball, or about me.

Teresa was always true to her mother, always honest. Her mother taught her to be that way just by virtue of her teaching Teresa never to be ashamed of anything. Nudism was probably what made her feel so comfortable talking about sexuality.

Anyways, Teresa told her mother about our mutual touching. Her mother didn't see it as bad, or as immoral, however. Her mother wanted Teresa to take charge of her own sexuality, and not be dependent on a man. She didn't necessarily want Teresa to be a lesbian, just didn't want her to believe that she needed to get married, and needed to raise children, and needed to rely on a man.

Teresa's mother was physically abused by her husband. She divorced him while Teresa was very young. She didn't want Teresa to subscribe to the accepted social behavior that a woman should submit to a husband. She wanted Teresa to be liberated, both intellectually and sexually.

I think that Teresa's mother felt that her daughter exploring sex with another girl was better than exploring it with boys. At least, it was safer, and more in line with what she wanted for Teresa psychologically.

But Teresa never showed much interest in boys, at least not our age. She seemed to find adult men sexy, at least she liked to look at them in her sports magazines. But she never expressed any interest in boys our age.

Up until this point, I thought her mother didn't know what we had been up to.

That all changed when Teresa and I were watching television at her house. We were seated on a couch, fully nude, with a blanket over us. Teresa's mother had been cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner. Under the blanket, Teresa would rub my clit, and I would rub hers. We'd smile and giggle a little while keeping an eye out for her mother in the kitchen.

Her mother had walked out of the kitchen, and then walked into the hallway towards her bedroom. Later on, I heard the bathtub faucet running, and knew she had drawn a bath.

Teresa was rubbing my clit, and I had reclined myself back into the couch, and rested my head up against Teresa's side. She was reaching over me, rubbing my clit with more determination. The blanket had fallen off of Teresa, and had fallen off of me partially, exposing my upper body.

I was fully into it with my eye closed.

Then Teresa stopped. I waited for a couple seconds, then opened my eyes. And then I heard a "Uh..." come from Teresa's mother who was standing where the hallway met the living room.

I pulled up the blanket, and turned over on to my side facing away from her mother. Her mother reminded Teresa of her bedtime, not to stay up too late.

I was completely embarrassed!

Later on, Teresa told me that her mom already knew about us touching each other. That had made me even more embarrassed, and for awhile I didn't want to go back to her house.

Teresa's mother said she didn't want Teresa doing this in public, and neither in front of her, but never said she didn't want her doing this at all. Teresa didn't seem to feel one bit embarrassed that her mother knew of this, she only seemed to think it was humorous.

But even though her mother expressed never to do this in public, that was still difficult for Teresa to resist.

(to be continued)

Teresa, Part 3

The first day at the nudist camp was awkward, but I was able to get used to it pretty quickly. I stuck by Teresa every moment the entire time.

Teresa and her mom went to this same nudist camp out towards the South/North Carolina border, more secluded than other nudist camps. The same families were always there because Teresa knew the other kids.

There was this one girl named Desiree who was a year older than Teresa, and Desiree was quite the "Miss Popularity". She was always at the center of attention, and always demanded she had her way with the other kids. Teresa and Desiree didn't really mix. Teresa could be just as demanding, but she was still introverted, and mostly stayed out of Desiree's way.

Even though nudism/naturism is not supposed to be a sexual experience, the fact is that with kids old enough to understand sex, it is in fact a sexual experience.

There were many hiking trails at this camp and there was a place where teens would go off the beaten path. They called it "the rocks" because there was a cropping of boulders. You went up this one trail, and then walked off of it into the middle of the woods for maybe just less than a 1/4 mile. That's where they hung out and socialized, and got into mischief.

Teresa and I went there a few times to visit with the other kids. They were mostly our age and older.

I remember this one boy who was probably a couple years older than us, maybe 14, who was there. Desiree was there, along with about five or six other boys and girls. Desiree masturbated him to orgasm. She took total control of him, while he stood up the whole time. It was the first time I ever saw a boy shoot his load. Desiree put her arms up in victory.

Another time we went there, there were several boys and girls there too, and I saw a girl suck another boy's cock. But it wasn't like it always a gang bang there, it was mostly just casual hanging out, talking dirty, and then once in awhile someone would dare someone else to perform a sex act.

Teresa and her mom always got a cabin. This cabin was small, with just a living room and a bedroom, and then a very tiny kitchenette, and tiny bathroom with no shower. Teresa and her mom normally slept together, but Teresa wanted to sleep with me in the living room. There was a couch that folded out into a sleeper.

We'd masturbate under the covers and tried to keep as quiet as we could. We'd giggle like little girls and then talk about how good it felt.

Teresa touched me the first time here. It wasn't on the first night, but sometime after that. I had actually woke up in the middle of the night to use the toilet and then got back into bed. Teresa whispered to me that she wanted to touch some more. After we had gotten ourselves worked up, she put her fingers on my pussy and rubbed it. I remember her giggling quietly. She rubbed my clitoris for awhile, and then she wanted me to rub hers. I did so, though shy, and nervous.

We did this for several nights until we left the nudist camp.

But each time Teresa always played the lead. She would tell me when she wanted to play, and what she wanted to do. I would just wait for her to say something. And that's how our relationship took shape.

(to be continued)

Teresa, Part 2

Teresa opened up one of her magazines. She would keep sports magazines and look at photos of male athletes. She'd point them out to me.

So the two of us were nude on her bed, and she would touch herself. I was rather shy and felt very uncomfortable.

She'd show me a photo of a guy and say stuff like, "Isn't he cute?" or "Look at his bod!" I'd look and smile, but would just sit there. She'd continue looking through the magazine and rubbing her clit. I was getting embarrassed.

I mean, I would masturbate in my room by myself. But I didn't feel comfortable doing it in front of anyone. Watching Teresa amazed me because she had no shame about it, no fear, it was like she was totally comfortable with it.

Finally she asked, "Don't you ever touch yourself?"

I was already rather uneasy, and now she made it more difficult. I couldn't answer, and just looked away.

"Everybody does it!" she told me.

And she kept rubbing her clit in front of me, and kept trying to encourage me to get into it. She finally "ordered" me to do it, speaking to me in a more firm tone. "Rub your clit!"

So I touched myself and watched her at the same time.

Teresa closed her eyes and got really into herself. I watched her and became mesmerized in the way she moved her legs, and moved her head, and made her moans. I kept touching myself but didn't really get into it. I was just waiting and expecting her to orgasm.

Her body kept twitching, and then she made just a little bit of a louder moan, but very short, and she put her legs together and pulled her hand away.

Then she took in some deep breaths and looked at me and said I should relax and get myself into it. She told me how fun it would be to do it together. I continued rubbing my clit, but was too uneasy to get anywhere. I finally told her I couldn't do it. We later ended up putting our clothes back on and went outside.

But that continued over the next several visits. She would do the same thing, and tell me that she would masturbate several times a day, though not always finished to an orgasm. It got to where she would share her most intimate thoughts and it became routine enough that it was no longer unusual.

Eventually, I got to where I could masturbate with her comfortably and we both took turns bringing ourselves to orgasm.

Every summer, Teresa and her mom would go to a nudist camp for a few weeks. When that came around this summer, Teresa asked her mother if I go come along. I didn't actually want to go, but I didn't want to be without Teresa. Nonetheless, Teresa already had her mind made up that I would go. Her mother agreed so long as my mom agreed. And it didn't take much to convince my mom, she actually didn't care, but she also believed that if I really wanted to go, she should let me.

My mom put up half the money for my stay, and Teresa's mom paid the other half.

(to be continued)

Teresa, Part 1

Last week I wrote about my best friend in high school, Julia. So I thought about talking a bit more about Teresa, a girl who had the biggest impact on my life.

I had known her throughout elementary school, but it wasn't until latter half of sixth grade that we became good friends. I can't remember exactly how we became good friends, but I do remember us talking and playing at school a lot.

By this time, Julia had drifted away from me and was spending more time with this other set of girls who were like the "in crowd". They were into pop culture, make-up, and were always putting themselves in view of the boys.

Teresa was something of a loner for most of elementary school. She was considerably taller than the other girls, and more physical. She something of a tom-boy back then, very smart, very opinionated, and never shy to initiate something. A lot of the kids referred to her as a freak, mostly because they were afraid of her.

So I think we became we good friends because I had become a loner by then too, and I wasn't interested in the pop-culture stuff that Julia wanted.

After school, Teresa and I used to go to her house. She lived in another part of town, probably a three or four miles from my house. But since my mother was rarely at home, working two jobs, I had the freedom to go anywhere I wanted.

Teresa's mom was a nudist. When she came home from work, she usually took her clothes off. Teresa learned to appreciate nudity, but she didn't necessarily take her clothes off right away. It was mostly a thing of convenience for her. After a shower, she would stay nude until she found a reason put clothes on.

For the first several times, when her mom came home from work, she kept her clothes on when I was there. But eventually, and I can't remember how it all went, she started going around the house nude in my presence, and acting like it was no big deal. She would cook dinner in the nude, and she'd offer me to have dinner with them, and she would eat at the table in the nude. It was awkward for me to see Teresa's mom nude all the time.

Teresa's mom also was abused by her husband. She divorced him when Teresa was very little. She vowed never to let that happen to Teresa, and made it her mission to teach Teresa to be strong, independent, and tough. She apparently also taught Teresa to be sexually liberated.

She didn't actually encourage her to masturbate, or have sex, or anything of the sort. But I think she debunked all the traditional expectations of a woman's role in society. She made it OK for Teresa to talk about sex, made Teresa feel proud of her body, and made it feel normal and acceptable to feel sexual urges.

So it all started in the summer after Teresa and I graduated sixth grade. We were in her room, laying on her bed, and talking about stuff. I noticed her putting her hand into her shorts, and then pulling it back out after a few seconds. I remember thinking how strange that was, but she didn't do this all that often, and eventually I just shrugged it off.

But over time, I would catch her doing it other times, and sometimes she'd have her hand in her crotch for several seconds, obviously not just scratching, but enjoying it. I would roll my eyes, or a make a "uh" sound, and she would pull her hand back out, and then tap me with her other hand as if I shouldn't be so prude.

The tipping point came when I arrived at her house during that same summer. Her mother answered the door and let me in. She called out for Teresa and she came walking out of her bedroom, still naked. This was the first time I ever saw her nude. It wasn't what I expected, however I knew Teresa and her mom spent a lot of time nude in the house, and I knew eventually I would have to deal with it if I wanted Teresa as my friend.

So in her bedroom we just gabbed and talked like we always did. And just as always, she would casually touch herself, except now I could see her actually touching herself. And by this time, I was used to seeing her touch herself for 20-30 seconds at a time. I used to just smile or laugh, and continue gabbing and chatting and just accepted it as part of having Teresa's friendship.

That moment Teresa asked me to take my clothes off. I didn't want to, but she insisted. I kept refusing, but the tipping point came when she stood in front of me, and at the time she was about six inches taller, and quite a bit more physical. She looked down at me with a smile and said, "Hey, if you want to be my friend, you have to take your clothes off" and kept looking right at me.

I felt that submissive streak come into me for the first time. I didn't want to lose Teresa's friendship, and I couldn't help but feel mesmerized by her serious stare. And then it was she who pulled up my top and lifted it over my head. And it was she who pushed me back on to the bed, and pulled my shorts and panties off.

She got back on the bed and pulled some magazines off her nightstand and said, "Let's look at some magazines together". At that point, I started doing what she wanted. Our friendship completely changed at that point, where the more I followed her lead, the more she accepted me as her friend, the more I felt happy.

(to be continued)

Trust Is Absolutely Important as a Slave

"If we are in a busy grocery store and I order you remove all your clothing and masturbate on the floor, would you pause to wonder if I really meant it?"

"Absolutely not" I answered.

"Good!" Carla said.

I guess I learned my lesson over the weekend.

A slave should follow orders without question, regardless of the demand. To do that, I must not doubt, fear, or worry about what I am asked to do. It's the master's job to know what is within the limits of my safety, and my job to have faith in my master.

On Friday, Carla and I were preparing to spend an afternoon at the coffee shop, something we do a lot together. She was picking out something for me to wear, while I stood nude waiting to see what she would settle with.

Someone rang the doorbell. Carla answered. There was a lady, and the two of them talked for awhile. It was not a friendly exchange. I kept hearing Carla say, "I know, I know, I know."

Carla called for me and said that I would need to go with this lady. I noticed two men waiting by the door. We all left the apartment. The lady had me get into her car. "Just do what she tells you to do" I heard Carla say. The two men escorted Carla to another car, and they drove away.

The lady, who appeared to be in her 50s, put a blindfold on me telling me that I wasn't allowed to see where we were going.

We drove for what seemed like an hour. There were a lot of turns, and eventually it seemed she got onto the freeway. When we arrived, she escorted me out of the car. We got inside of a house, and she took the blindfold off. It was a large house, very well appointed.

"You are now mine!" she said. "You will do exactly as I order you to do, you understand?"

I made a face. I didn't know who she was. I asked her where Carla went. She only said that it was no longer any of my business to worry about Carla. I thought this was a joke. I stood there and shook my head and smiled and laughed.

"Here, let me show you something" she said. She had this high-society-like voice, almost something you'd expect from a millionaire-snob on Martha's Vineyard.

She walked me into another room and turned on the lights. "This is your room" she said. "Later this evening a friend of mine will be over to train you, you understand?"

She closed the door on her way out, which apparently has a lock on the outside, and left me alone. I was still hadn't put any clothes on the whole time. There was a chest of drawers but nothing in it. There was also a closet with nothing inside. There was only a bed with a nightstand, lamp, and a clock. Attached to the bedroom was a bathroom.

I sat on the bed and wondered "What the fuck? This has to be a joke!"

So it was close to 7:30pm when the lady opened up the door and had me put on a blindfold. "Are we going somewhere else?" I asked. This time she swatted my ass with a little cane of hers, which stung like a bitch. I yelled out a screech. She twisted my arm and forced me to the floor, and then swatted my ass again twice. "You are to do as I say!" Then she put the blindfold on me.

She escorted me up a set of stairs and then into some other room.

She told me to sit on my knees.

Moments later a person walked up to me and bumped me. I put my arms out in reaction. This was a female, and she was nude.

"Lara, eat her pussy right now!" the lady demanded.

My first thought is, "I'm not going to touch this thing. I don't know who the fuck this is."

So I said, "Look, I'm sorry but I'm not your fucking slave", and I started to pull the blindfold off. What I found was Carla standing right in front of me!

She had her arms folded, looking right down at me with a disappointed look. "I thought I told you to do what she says!"

I was in absolute shock. I literally started crying right there. I embarrassed and speechless.

Carla drove us back to the apartment, and that's when she lectured me never to doubt her orders. I realized that yes, it was all a joke, but not really. I learned that I can always trust Carla, and need not think twice about what she asks of me.

Julia

If any of you are following my other blog "Full Time Lara", I have to say I'm having a lot of fun writing it.

I think it's because it's about me, even though technically it's fiction. But it's about me, my childhood, and what I would have wanted to do.

Through high school I learned to become independent. Julia is the one who helped me get over my depression after Teresa, and helped me become a stronger person. Even though Teresa and I were lovers, Julia was truly my real friend all along.

We were best friends in elementary school. Then during the sixth grade, Julia developed a passion for boys, pop music, pop fashion, jewelry, and all the things that girls get into at that age. Well, I think she had a passion for that stuff for awhile, but she found a group of friends who were heavy into it, and she got sucked up.

And at that time, I met Teresa.

All throughout middle school I spent my time with Teresa. Teresa was very much like me in that she was introverted, quiet, and very horny! But Teresa was very independent, and never shy to take initiative. I needed a new friend after Julia was spending most of her time with the "chic" gang. So, we stuck together pretty well.

Meanwhile, Julia was enjoying her friends throughout middle school, but was being held back by her father. Her father and mother were strict-Christian types, and forbade her from having boyfriends, dating, going to dances, and wearing make-up. Julia tried her best to fit in with her clique, but she was getting frustrated.

By the time we entered high school, Teresa was growing tired of me. I did my best to satisfy her demands for sex, but every year she needed something more creative and daring, and I just couldn't bear it any longer. I'd complain and cry, and she'd get angry.

Julia had practically given up on her group of friends. They were all dating with boyfriends, having sex, going to dances, going to parties, but her father still would not allow her to enjoy any of it. High school brought out yet a greater separation between her and her friends that she drifted away from them.

That's how she and I rekindled our friendship.

I had already become a full time nudist by then, and due to Teresa, had shed much of my inhibitions away. Julia was seeking some kind of avenue to satisfy her sexual urges, and opted to visit me regularly. We'd spend time in my bedroom, and I would tell her about my affair with Teresa, while she listened.

Julia was not a lesbian, and there was nothing sexual or romantic between us. But I did love her.

She found great interest in hearing my sexual encounters with Teresa. I would go on to tell her about my fantasies as if there were nothing shameful about them. She was conflicted with her strict Christian upbringing. She felt tempted and aroused by my stories, but she was worried about disappointing her father and felt troubled by the feelings she felt.

I don't know if she would have accepted me as her friend if I had been a lesbian all along. But she came back to being my best friend because in her mind, I was still her friend.

I had this dream of leaving South Carolina and finding greener pastures in California. She wanted to attend Indiana Tech. We kept writing to each other for about a year after high school, but we drifted apart.

I hope she found peace and happiness.

Saturday's Housewarming Party

On Saturday, Carla invited a four of her friends to come over and see our new place. Carla wanted me to serve the guests.

I spent the day before preparing by getting food and drink, and trying to make everything look as inviting as possible for a one-bedroom apartment.

At the party, Carla had me wear a thin chrome choker around my neck, along with a belly chain, but aside from that nothing else. She wanted my hair pulled back into a tight bun.

She gave me instructions to follow the orders of our guests, and that this would be permanent from now on for any guest. She also wanted me to return to her side when there was nothing else to do, and be prepared for further orders.

When guests arrived, among them was Debbie, Carla's best friend. Debbie brought Sarah. There was also Amy who also brought a friend, and the other guests were Val and Trish who each came alone.

I was hoping to spend some time with Sarah, but Carla kept me pretty busy refilling glasses of wine and bringing out appetizers. She also had me model various items of clothes that she made.

Later on in the evening, Amy and her friend, as well as Val, had left and only Debbie and Sarah remained. Those two sat on the couch with Carla and chatted away, while I cleaned things up. Afterwards, I returned to Carla and sat on my knees next to her. She untied the bun and let my hair fall out, then praised me for what a great job I did.

That whole evening I was getting horny, with everyone looking at my ass, talking about my ass, touching my ass, and me obeying their orders. All throughout the party, Carla was ever more assertive with me, which only made me feel more submissive.

"Yes Lara, you did a wonderful job!" Debbie added. "And you look so beautiful!"

It was like she was talking to a child.

But I thanked her.

After Debbie and Sarah left, Carla rewarded me with the thrusting I was needing which made it all worthwhile.

Finally Back Online

It's been nearly a week living with Carla in the new apartment unit.

It took awhile, but just this afternoon a guy from Verizon came over to hook up Internet access for me. He was just a young guy, probably in his early 20s, and quite red-faced to see me nude.

Earlier in the week I was going to a coffee shop just a block away to work. Carla had me wear a tight-fitting zipper-front hoodie, black in color, with no shirt underneath, and she pulled the zipper down just enough such that it was evident I was wearing no bra. I'm not large enough to show any cleavage anyways. I also wore a pair of tight-fitting leggings Carla made from this semi-sheer black material.

Carla also wants me to wear this leather collar around my neck anytime I leave the apartment alone. It's just a plain piece of black leather, but has a few D-rings where a leash can attach to. It's her way of saying that I'm taken.

Putting My House Up For Sale

Yesterday I contacted a Realtor who specializes in my area, and this afternoon she visited and I showed her my property.

When I spoke to her yesterday, I told her on the phone that I'm a nudist, and she should expect to see me nude. Funny, she said "Oh, you're the naked woman. I've heard about you!"

She mentioned it was strange a nudist would seek to live in the city, but I answered that I was seeking a change in my life. She was curious if I was going to stop being a nudist. When I said "Oh, I'll be nude there too", she answered back with "What, is it some new line of work?" I answered, "Sort of".

She's going to list property right away, and meanwhile I have some housecleaning to do.

Last Tuesday I drove to Carla's, and we signed the lease on the bigger apartment unit. I gave her some money and she's going to rent a van to help me move some stuff out of this house. Fortunately, I'm not taking much, mostly my office furniture. Of course, I won't be keeping a wardrobe anymore!

The Realtor was generously agreed to make arrangements for Salvation Army to come pick up some extra stuff that doesn't need to stay with the house.

It looks like perhaps tomorrow night will be my last night in this house :(

Becoming a Full Time Slave

It seems I've made a major decision in my life.

I'm going to move out of my house, and move in with Carla.

She and I talked about it at length this last weekend, and I feel convinced this is what I want. I'll be looking to sell this property, which I'll miss very much. Meanwhile, Carla will be getting a lease on larger unit in the same apartment building. It's a one-bedroom unit, but it has a large living room where I can set up a desk to do my work, and Carla will also have plenty of room to set up her sewing table.

When I agreed to move in with her, Carla was very excited.

We talked about our relationship at this point forward. She held both of my hands and told me how much she's grown to love me over the past couple years we've been together. I couldn't hold myself back and began crying. I was a real basket case! But it made me so happy to hear that.

It's going to be a quite a contrast living in a small apartment in the city, as Carla's lover and slave. I won't have the freedom of the outdoors like I do here.

But I've become addicted to being a slave. It's actually a very simple, stress-free way of life. She gives me instructions, which I follow, and I'm always rewarded. But I know that I would not have made this decision if I hadn't felt comfortable that Carla and I would be happy together for the next several years.

Most of us live our lives having to maintain some sense of pride and reputation. As a slave, happiness comes from making my master happy. Pride comes from how well I follow instructions, and is evidenced by the rewards Carla gives me. Even in public, I completely block out what other people think, say, or do, and focus solely on her. With Carla as my master, I know she will protect me.

As ironic as it sounds, there's a sense of freedom and liberation in being her slave.

Getting a Clean Shave

During the three weeks I stayed with Carla over the holidays, we spent the New Year's Eve with her friend Debbie. Debbie already knew about my nudity and welcomed Carla to bring me.

Debbie lives about 20 minutes away in a more upper class area of town, and has an impressive, luxurious home. Sarah is Debbie's young friend, and lives with Debbie.

I didn't get Sarah's age, but she looks quite young, and very beautiful.

As Carla and Debbie sat on the sofa catching up on the latest news, Debbie suggested that Sarah get me a glass of wine and show me around the house. Carla obliged by removing the leash from my collar.

After pouring us each glasses of wine, Sarah showed me the home. It's clear Debbie earns a lot of money to enjoy such a huge home, well appointed, and well maintained. Sarah showed me her favorite room, the "sun room", with large windows and several indoor plants, and bistro table with a couple of chairs.

We sat and chatted for awhile.

Eventually I got to explaining to her that Carla wants me clean shaven and perfectly smooth, and that it was difficult getting every strand of hair. I mentioned that I could feel a piece of stubble poking the crease in my thigh.

Sarah said she used to have the same issue, but now Debbie has taken up the task of shaving her. She surprised me when she asked I would like her to shave me.

She took me to their bathroom and brought out a razor and a tube of shaving gel. She had me lay down on my back, and pull my legs up. Then she lifted them up and over me ! I could help giggling!

"You actually did a pretty good job she said" as she looked down at my pussy and my butthole. I told her that I've actually plucked most of them out, and that by now most of what I get are just fine baby hairs growing back, which are pretty easy and painless to pluck back out. But there are some hairs I can't see, and thus I can't pluck. So I end up shaving those.

I pointed out the part where I could feel a piece of stubble grazing my thigh. She literally pulled the labia taut with one hand, and then rubbed it with a finger from her other, and then said "I think I found it".

She said she could see some fine hairs that I didn't get and applied some gel, and then shaved it off.

She finished up by rubbing some moisturizing oil around and inside my pussy as well as my asshole, until it soaked in. She had me completely worked up and hot as hell. But that was all she did.

The Fishnet Sarong

More about my three weeks with Carla over the holidays...

The weather has gotten chilly in San Diego, even in the afternoon it's brisk. I wasn't looking forward to spending any time outdoors with barely any clothing on, or none at all.

But Carla wanted me to wear a new outfit she made. She made a short little sarong out of fishnet material, and used the same material for a top. She didn't have me wear any panties nor bra. The top was comparable to a vest, but with long sleeves. The material was brown, made of cotton, and the fishnet was large enough that it doesn't cover up anything.

I think the brown color blended in with my tan enough that it almost looks like I'm not wearing anything if you were to see me from a distance. But up close, it also seems to cover up even more, perhaps because there's little contrast between the material and my skin color.

She wanted to take me outside. She put a black leather collar on my neck with a leash, and left me barefoot. We walked down a few streets to this fairly busy avenue, then we walked for several blocks and made a loop until we got back to her apartment.

I was chilly, and I was glad to get back inside.

That was the only time she dressed me up and took me outdoors the whole time.

Christmas in the Nude

This last weekend I was so happy to be with Carla again. I hadn't seen her all week due to a large load of writing and editing assignments I was given.

Thinking about her all week only made my work more difficult. Worse, she doesn't own a cell phone, not even a landline phone. She lives very simply, with few possessions, something that I'm quite envious of.

But I want to write more about the three weeks I spent at her apartment over the holidays.

If you read Part 3 on how I met Carla, I'm known by others at her apartment building as "the naked lady", due to my walking through the apartment building naked.

So on Christmas Day, we spent much of our time at a neighbor's unit. This neighbor had invited many of the other apartment residents to her place for a Christmas Day gathering. Carla had previously discussed with her my nudity, and the neighbor felt it would be no problem since everyone there already knew me as the "naked lady", and this would be a great opportunity for people to know me better.

And it was a lot of fun. It was a warm, friendly gathering.

But even though I was going nude, it still seemed to be a lot of preparation. Carla wanted me perfect.

She didn't have me on a leash, but opted to have me wear a small, red lace choker she made. She pulled my hair back into a bun to help emphasize the choker. She wanted me to make doubly sure I was absolutely hairless, being I would be fully nude and in close proximity to others this evening. So I plucked and shaved as best as I could, right down to my asshole!

Carla also rubbed a little lipstick on my nipples. "Plum Perfect" from Maybelline if you know the color. Then wiped it off to where it still had a rosy color but didn't look gaudy.

A top it off, a dusting of shimmering body powder for a subtle glow.

People asked me all the usual questions, "Do you ever worry about getting arrested?", and "Don't you ever get cold?" The attention was fun, I think Carla was pleased. Though later on, she had become annoyed as my focus had drifted off towards chatting with others and less on her. She whispered to me that I needed to behave.

Sense of Satisfaction and Purpose

Having returned yesterday from three weeks at Carla's apartment, I find myself in a bit of depression.

It feels like home now, but my mind is still there, at Carla's side.

The house seems ever more empty and alone from this point of view. The hills are still there as beautiful as ever, and the birds still sing as lively as always. But I don't seem to pay much attention.

The three weeks I spent with her felt fulfilling. I followed Carla's instruction, I stayed by her side, she rewarded me with her smiles, kisses, and caresses. There's something very simple and relaxing in casting aside my doubts and fears and putting total faith into Carla's decisions, and then knowing the results are always favorable.

I realize that friendships are not built upon common ground, but where the differences compliment each other. There's still respect and love for one another as long as a symbiotic relationship exists.

Yet here at my house, there is much freedom. Living in the country seems to magnify that freedom ever more. I'm still a nudist here and I can be nude outdoors on my property as well as hiking the many trails in this area. There is also a sense of simplicity and relaxation with this kind of living.

But being here also means being alone.

And it also means being the one to make all the decisions. That isn't so bad except there's no one here to please but myself. At Carla's side, I can please her and she can please me. There's a greater sense of purpose and satisfaction in that.