Once again, I fear I’ve reached that point where I’ve said all there is to say about my current baseline level of sluttiness. Like, yes, my day-to-day life is still very slutty – yes, I’m still constantly collared – yes, I did kneel with a dildo filling up my throat for 15+ minutes as soon as I walked in the door after work today. But I’ve already written about all that, y’know? There’s not a lot more ground to cover, there. I think tomorrow might be the day I try baking a Victoria Sponge cake for Mistress Charlotte’s second wifey skill training, though! That’ll be exciting. And, better yet, not only will it involve wearing nothing but a whorish malewife apron, being plugged, AND listening to Mistress’s Project Trance-Formation – I’ll also be locked into the docking station, throat full of dildo, for around 25 minutes while the cake is in the oven. Now that will be something to write about. Hopefully in a good way – I’m expecting this cake to turn out at least decent. In theory, it’s not nearly as fragile as a soufflé, so I like to think it will turn out OK. I’m not necessarily planning on perfection straight away, though – I’m alright, but I don’t think I’m quite that level of housewife just yet.
Something else I’ve been thinking about recently, though, is how much I’m enjoying showing off my sluttery recently. Every so often, I’ll post or retweet a slutty picture I’m rather fond of – the one of me showing off my newly embroidered uniform, for instance, or me about to get bent over the kitchen counter – and they seem to go over pretty well with my adoring public! Sometimes someone else will retweet them, because that’s what social media is, and then it’s like, woah. There’s an entire new group of potentially hundreds of people, maybe more, who could see a practically naked picture of me about to get railed. And, y’know, isn’t that just an exciting thought? Is it slutty to think that? Yeah, maybe it is. Do I care? Fuck no I don’t. That is to say, actually I care very much, but only in the sense that the sluttery just makes it better.
It’s just, it feels weird though, right? Like, I’m ultimately still a very shy person IRL. I don’t really go out of my way to chat, or meet new people or anything. Even with people I already know, I feel like I’m still pretty quiet. But here, it’s just like, “fuck it, I’m going to very visibly be a slut, and that’s just how it is!”. It seems like it shouldn’t make sense, and yet, it does. I guess because it’s much harder to be a public slut IRL, without running into issues of 1) consent, and 2) shit being massively illegal. Here, on the other hand, you already know exactly what you’re getting into, and the internet’s already full of horny sluts, so no big deal there.
Ultimately, though, I think the best form of showing off is that which reflects positively on Mistress Charlotte, and the training she’s given me. People complimenting my slutty embroidery (which I did on her orders), people liking the photos she told me to both take and post for her. My absolute favourite, though, is tweets like this one from @TheHypnoBrat:
Something about the praise going directly to Mistress Charlotte really activates something in my brain. Because it’s true – absolutely none of the wonderfully fun things I’ve accomplished would have happened without her! It’s her slut, slave, property, malewife that did it – why shouldn’t she get the credit? The only other type of showing off I might enjoy more is being shown off by Mistress, as a toy/object/malewife to be proud of – or to enjoy how ridiculously slutty I am, one or the other. Thanks for reading!
Service and Sluttery 