Our dazed, but incredibly well-mannered little sissy missy cannot recall just how she reached a point in the last scenario where she lost all of her clothing. She can barely recall whether she ever had a name much less. Somehow she finds herself fundamentally unbothered by this deep down. Though she puts on an air of squeamishness like any good girl would, (As if she could possibly be anything else) deep down in her muddled thoughts she is strangely comfortable to be stripped down bare, provided the situation called for her to be, and someone demanded this of her.
If she is open to this level of exposure, it stands to reason, her mind tells her, that she must be open to innumerable other requests and commands. All the same she still will be incredibly gleeful once she can put her fluffy, frilly dress back on. For now though she feels content to leave herself uncovered, and unable or willing to say no.
<<THE BOW STAYS.>>