Catalina over at Catalina Loves has a serious dilemma. Her kid’s school is trying to make it financially impossible for Catalina’s daughter to get a great education for no other reason than general asshattery and blind bias.
Read all about it on Catalina’s blog and then
help your fellow kinkster out by buying a raffle ticket for a truly awesome raffle!

Aprons, to me, are the sexist thing I could wear on a daily basis. Aprons that match my pot holders and oven mits make me wet. If those aprons should have bows on them. I’m in heaven. If they have gloves that match… hold on, I think I just came.

Aprons. Are. Hot. Wearing aprons with clothes is great but nothing but an apron (hadaka apron) and heels is a an erotic pleasure I cannot even begin to explain. When Master comes behind me in the kitchen and starts to gently tug at my apron string until it the perfect bow slips and eases free and the ribbons tickle the back of my naked thigh

Yes…

Now there’s a line of aprons that also has matching garters. The fact that these types of aprons exist and there’s a market for them among women who want to return to a more simple time tells me over and over that I am not alone in my apron kink!

It can’t be just any old apron. The apron has to have style. This is the one I’m currently coveting. My favorite Apron designer of couture aprons (yes, there are apron designers) has just come out with her Summer line and I must… have this. And yes, I’ve found the perfect shoes to match that apron.

Now tell me that’s not an outfit that just begs for a spanking.

What are you owners requirement for your dress (or undress)?

When I met Master. I was the quintessential “Short Skirt, Long Jacket”, with PDA girl when I met him and my clothes were very sexy, but also very distancing. Everything about my clothing said “No Entry”. One of his first requests, then requirements of me was that I wear more welcoming clothes. When I didn’t live with him, it was a request. I couldn’t afford to replace all my clothing, but once I came to live under his roof, and his money started buying”my” clothes it became a requirement.

I think the biggest thing for me was that I was trying to dictate what Master should find “sexy”. To me, he should have loved my tightly held waist, high large breast straining against a tailored blouse and 27 inch skirt more than 5 inches from my knee with a split to heaven. Even though that look got me plenty of whistles, attentions and free meals, it didn’t do anything for my Master. He found that way of dressing very off putting and wanted a softer woman with soft curves and a less aggressive standard of beauty.? I liked the aggressive standard because, well, I’m a big (big big) girl and I liked having that standoffish beauty. Master likes my curves, every single one of them, and wants them to be inviting and welcoming to him. Away go the angular clothes.

Master has very simple requirements for my dress. Comfortable, relaxed, almost nuevo-hippie. A lot of my clothes come from “Gypsy Rose” and “Holy Clothing“. He prefers skirts to the ankle, either long, 3/4, sleeves or halters, but not short sleeves. He’s very fond of the patchwork corduroy skirts and dresses, fitted or full, as long as they are very very long. I’m 6 ft tall so finding skirts that come down to my ankle or better drag the floor is very difficult, but it’s what he loves. Fabrics should be natural. No polyester blends or unnatural fabrics. When he touches me, he loves that my clothes are as soft as my skin. This is every day casual. He finds this incredibly sexy.

The other way he likes for me to dress is very Rockabilly or 1950’s. Pencil skirts, tight sweaters, little heels, and seamed stockings. He loves those Shirt Waist Dresses that June Cleaver wore with those sweet swinging circle skirts and tight bodices. Cigarette pants and tight sweaters are loved. Coat Dresses are also For The Win. Oh, and Aprons. Aprons. Aprons. He loves Aprons. It’s like an apron fetish. An apron with nothing underneath is bound to get me on my knees on the kitchen floor and I’m not down there to scrub, either. HA!! That kind of dress, (rockabilly and 1950’s) is more of a fetish than an every day look so we pull it out on occasion. If I dress like that, odds are we don’t get out of the front door but instead end up fucking in the living room.

All of my “professional” clothing comes from igigi’s everyday dresses collection. it’s very Audrey Hepburn. All my semi formals and clothes for the opera or theatre come from igigi as well.

At home, Master likes me no bra, no panties, and sometimes dressed in only my collar. I’ve learned to wear a Sari without an under-slip, thanks to Master. That’s generally what I wear every day. I have yards and yards of cotton day wear saris and silk saris as well and I generally wrap one on every morning.

If he feels that I need to get in touch with my inner slave, then clothing is taken away and I have to ask permission to wear it. That’s kind of what’s going on now. He will let me wear an apron when cooking even if I’m having a naked day and of course, if I’m cleaning with solvents, I get to dress fully, usually in jeans and a tee-shirt.

Master also has a preference of colors. From a previous post, you know that brown or any of it’s cousins are no longer allowed so that means my wardrobe is at nearly 1/3 it’s former size. His favorite color is blue but he has finally agreed with me that it doesn’t look good on me so unless it’s a special shade or combination of colors, blue is forbidden. He associates purple with a crazy ex girlfriend so I’m not allowed to wear it and I’ll be changing my blog layout over the weekend.

Until I wrote this, I thought that I was more in control of what I wear than evidently I really am. I get to pick what I’ll put on most mornings, but that’s only because he’s already chosen every single garment in my closet.

Wow…