A rule Iâ??ve had almost since the first time we spoke of
rules is not to put myself down. And, as most do, I took this to mean â??out loudâ?,
of course, because He canâ??t hear my thoughts, right? Except, something I chose
to ignore is that the only opinion that should matter to me is His opinion and
if one were to judge by the way He canâ??t keep His hands off of me or His cock
out of me theyâ??d judge that His opinion is good.

Something that has always been rather hard for me is being
kept naked. I have self-esteem issues that have always made it extremely
embarrassing for anyone to look at me, naked or not. Naturally, I managed to
get beyond my fear of being seen, otherwise I might not have ever left the
safety of my childhood bedroom. However, I have not yet, and might not ever,
gotten over the humiliation of being viewed unclothed.

Iâ??m able to put this fear behind me, on occasion, but more
often than not youâ??ll find me wrapped in a blanket (unless itâ??s excruciatingly
hot, and sometimes even then) even though thereâ??s no one to look at me but
Master. At times, Iâ??d rather sweat than sit unclothed so that every fold and curve
of my skin is visible to Him. And when Master is fully clothed itâ??s that much
more difficult to sit vulnerable to scrutiny.

Heâ??s never made a single negative comment about my
appearance. His hands almost never leave my body when weâ??re home together. But
the ones that are meant to be positive sting just as much as a negative comment
could. Because in every positive word He says to me, I hear my own mind spitting
back venomous, hateful words.

A rule Iâ??ve had almost since the first time we spoke of
rules is not to put myself down. And, as most do, I took this to mean â??out loudâ?,
of course, because He canâ??t hear my thoughts, right? Except, something I chose
to ignore is that the only opinion that should matter to me is His opinion and
if one were to judge by the way He canâ??t keep His hands off of me or His cock
out of me theyâ??d judge that His opinion is good.

So why am I so convinced that I am absolutely revolting in
appearance?

When He threatens to take my blanket away, I feel frantic,
panicky. Granted, the whole point of me being kept naked is so that I may hide
nothing from Him. And yet, I cling to my blanket more firmly than Iâ??ve ever
clung to my teddy bear or any other â??securityâ? vice Iâ??ve had. And when He
orders me to take it off of certain parts, when itâ??s obvious that He wants to
be able to easily see my naked form, I feel dirty and disgusting. Low,
repulsive. Humble.

Being kept naked is hard for me. Whatâ??s it like for you?