What Became of Me

“Wait here!”

Petra suddenly turned around, disappeared through a door behind me, and returned a short time later with a plastic box. She set the box on the coffee table, took out another, smaller plastic box, and a small cardboard box.

“Strip!” Petra ordered curtly. “Put your clothes in the big box and your shoes in the smaller one!”

I wish I were less uptight. Nudity should be a natural thing, but my Catholic upbringing has left its mark. Even with long-term partners, a certain unease always lingered. The body is weak flesh. Sinful. Although I haven’t believed in God for a long time – and certainly not in the Catholic Church – I find it hard to overcome that indoctrination. All the more so with a stranger. Even more so since the whole situation arose from carnal desire. We were about to commit a mortal sin. Luxuria – lust – I recalled, refers to an excessive, disordered desire for sexual pleasure. I had made that my raison d’être, but when I was alone, I could push the guilty conscience aside most of the time.

The winter jacket, of course, wasn’t a problem. Neither were the shoes and socks, and even the jeans weren’t much of a challenge. But I noticed the scrutinizing glances directed at my body. As I pulled my top over my head, I felt the burning sensation of embarrassment and shame. My face was probably bright red. I carefully folded my clothes before putting them in the box, just to buy some time. Usually, I wasn't particularly neat about such things.

Now down to just my bra and panties, I hesitated.

“What do you think the command ‘Strip!’ means?”

Suddenly in a hurry, I unhooked my bra and let it slide off my shoulders, holding my arms out in front of me to hide my breasts just a little longer. Finally, my panties landed in the box waiting there, and I stood naked and quite embarrassed in a stranger’s living room. My face was burning.

“Earrings, rings, and the necklace too! Put them in the cardboard box!”

That seemed a bit excessive to me – after all, there was nothing left to cover up – but I removed my jewellery too and put it into the smallest box. Petra took my things and carried them away. To another room. Somewhere. Somewhere out of my sight. Out of my reach. As long as Petra wanted, I would be naked. No, my body would be naked. After all, this was not about me, but all about the doll, the toy.

At that moment, it also dawned on me why I was supposed to take off the jewellery too. Petra restored the toy to its original factory condition. She examined the raw material from which she intended to shape the toy of her choice.