I didn’t think I was going to go through with it! I thoroughly expected myself to be lying home moping at 2 in the morning wishing that I’d been courageous. I skipped the flogger and cuffs, decided that might be overkill for this particular occasion. When I got out of work, I called my host to see if I should still attempt to make an appearance at the party. She said the party was still hopping, and sounded quite friendly (that was the first time we’d spoken by phone) and cheerful so that gave my bravery a kick start. I arrived and I was totally weirded out by all the strangers – I knew absolutely no one. [I was wearing my pinstripe pants and a black button-down shirt and my big pearls (not the little ones) so I was fully covered – the invitation promised that those not wearing a costume would be stripped upon arrival!] Tried to look around for her, tried to make a friend or something but nothing was working out, when a surly character appeared and said hey. I lifted the hat atop a smiling face and recognized Jenn – the first time I get to meet her face to face and she’s cross dressing (in a tongue-in-cheek kinda way, it’s a costume). Eye-liner mustache was starting to wear off but she smiled and grabbed me a Blue Moon from the fridge by which I was standing, said, “this is my sister!” pointing to a masqued figure, and then rushed off to care for some sickly guests out on the front lawn. I only spoke to her – and only briefly, a sentence or two – about 4 times for the hour and a half I was there. But that’s okay. I found that smiling and having an open posture made it easy for people to approach me, or to be comfortable around me. The third time we bumped into each other I said…

“I am wearing a costume, you know.”
“What? What kind of a costume is that?”
“Well… you promised me I’d be stripped at the door…”
“Ah, I see, well if your costume’s under there, why don’t you take off your clothes?”
“Come on, you know bottoms don’t undress themselves!”
“Like this…”

She started to unfasten the buttons of my shirt, and called to a girl nearby, saying “come on over, we’ve got to strip this one!”

“You missed me at the door!” I said. They slipped the shirt off my shoulders revealing the black corset and all my pale skin and cleavage. The accomplice said, “Well, you can keep your undies on – are you wearing any?” I nodded yes. “Are you sure we can take off your pants?” How could I pass that one up? “I’ll be terribly disappointed if you don’t” I pouted. She said, “Ok Jenn I’m going to need your help on this one!” They unbuttoned, unclasped, unzipped my slacks and started pulling them down my thighs, uncovered the lacy band of thigh high fishnet stockings and the shiny black boy-short panties… down, down to my knees, down to my ankles, they struggled to get them over the heels of my shoes, but finally oh finally I was free! In the living room in front of a bunch of strangers. [Wow, am I a little bit of an attention whore? Yeah… guilty as charged] And that is how I spent the rest of the night. Corset, panties, stockings, heels. And so cleverly disguised by my “work clothes”. I got what I wanted out of the evening, and said, wow, now that I’m in my real costume I need another beer. The second one tasted almost as good as the first.

Finally around 3:30 Jenn said she was headed for bed. No joke, I’d be exhausted, too. We hugged and I sent her off to bed and went to the car to come home.

Analysis: Jenn’s sister called me amazing, she had encouraged me to take off my own clothes earlier, but that’s not how I wanted it. I need to start claiming the word amazing for myself. I sit in it like a robe and it suits me. I am amazing. Also, I created Miss Avarice in hopes of recreating myself. Her adventures are looking increasingly similar to mine. I’m becoming Miss Avarice. Hah! Also, I’m still trying to figure out why I’m more comfortable with someone else taking my clothes off rather than me doing. I thought it had to do with bottoming, but now feel like it’s a weakness that I need to overcome – that maybe I’m deficient if I can’t take off my own clothes in front of someone else. I can. But I much much prefer to be undressed by someone else… weird.

2 thoughts on “stripped

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