tunic top

Amanda found for me a sleeveless tunic top that she has me wear solo, without any other clothing. When I stand, the tunic is a micro-minidress, just barely covering me, front and back. The keyword in that is “barely.” When I sit, the tunic sometimes tents over me but other times hikes up, revealing everything

Amanda orders me not to “mind” the tunic top, either when I stand or sit. “Don’t be so self-conscious,” she says.

I give her a look. “Are you kidding me?”

She laughs. “I mean don’t be fussy.”

“’No fussiness’ — Master McKenna would approve.”

“Yes he would… I’m saying don’t look down at how it covers you.”

“That’s not the question — it doesn’t cover me.”

Amanda restrains a smile and ignores my sass: “Don’t use your hands to pull it over you. Let the tunic do what it wants with your body.”

Again I give her an exasperated look, and again she is bemused and lets me get away with it. “So,” I say, “let me get this right: I am to be submissive to you and to Master McKenna and to Kevin — and now also to a tunic top.”


“Okay then,” I say. “I’ll let it have its way with me.”


After a few moments, I add, “But then I think I need to give it a name.”

12 thoughts on “tunic top

  1. Excellent. Never fuss with it. When sitting, never cross your legs, including the “Cambridge Cross,” never angle your legs away from someone who is looking, and keep your knees at least ten inches apart. ;0)

    Liked by 2 people

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