humiliation

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nankingdecade:

Puff lightly and carry a big stick.

I absolutely hate it when he’ll have a cigar with his friends. It’s super, super rare, thankfully, but it’s still really disgusting to me. I can’t even watch him do it. I associate cigars with old, rotund colonialists with chubby fingers covered in ostentatious rings. And that’s not him at all. 

So, naturally, of course, I end up fantasizing about him using my mouth as an ashtray sometimes. Right in front of his friends, knowing how disgusted I am but not caring. Because I guess I’m into degradation a lot more than I would like to admit.

Also, I absolutely kink on 1950s misogynist advertising. Oops.

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This is what it would look like if Sir and I made porn.

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I don’t know how it’s possible that something that is almost entirely about my pleasure is still so totally, completely humiliating. 

Piss Shy, Part Nine

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Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

I went to rush out of the bathroom when Flint ushered the group back in, grabbing my shoulder and turning me around. Lida slipped out of her pants and underwear, stepping into the bathtub and squatting down. 

Now, tumblr. I’ve seen some shit. I’ve watched a dick the size of my forearm get stepped on like a bug, that guy from my frat has tricked me into watching a prolapse porn (EUGH), an anon on here once sent me a 10 second video of himself jerking off that ended with him whispering, “I love you” (OH MY GOD IT WAS AWFUL AND IF ANYONE EVER DOES IT AGAIN I WILL RIP YOU TO SHREDS.) But, nothing was more “oh my gosh I can’t look but I can’t look away and I don’t know how I feel about this but I think I might like it” than watching Lida pee into the bathtub, wipe herself with her hand, and then lick her hand clean. 

Back in the living room, Lida, WRM and I held down a blindfolded Macy while Flint repeatedly slapped her pussy. All things considered, she took it like a champ.

“So, what’d you think of that?” Flint asked, “in the bathroom with Lida. She hasn’t used a toilet since, what, Christmas?” Lida blushed and looked down at her hands.

I shook my head and chuckled, “I’ve gotta walk that off.”

Piss Shy, Part Eight

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Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

Flint reached under my armpits and hauled me up to my feet, leading me into the bathroom. He sat me down on the toilet and guided my hand over to the toilet paper. I sat, waiting for him to leave, until I realized he was still standing there. 

“I can’t do that with you here,” I said, tugging the blindfold off of my eyes. WRM walked into the doorway and I threw my hands over my eyes, “oh my gosh, everyone get out and close the door. I don’t need an audience.”

“Actually, I think you do,” Flint replied, leaning out the door and calling Lida and Macy inside. 

It took me forever to be able to urinate in front of Sir. At first, he had to stand by the sink and look away. Then, he had to stand in front of me while I looked away from him. Then, he had to hold my chin and look in my eyes until eventually I was finally comfortable enough to do it. But it was a whole process. A process that wasn’t about to be circumvented in front of a whole audience. 

“I can’t,” I insisted. 

Flint shrugged, “well, you’re going to have to.” He stepped out for a moment and I stared anxiously at the group in the doorway, but my fear peaked when he returned with a box of black latex gloves.

Yeah, apparently they make black ones, go figure.

He snapped the glove onto his hand and knelt down in front of me. “You’ve got to the count of ten or I am going to go down there and make you.”

I gazed back over to the girls in hope of some sort of clemency, but found none. “Can…can we turn on the water and talk about oceans?" 

WRM reached for the faucet. Flint raised his hand. "Don’t turn it on.”

I bit my lower lip and looked at my feet. “Can everybody just leave the room for a minute?”

“Nope,” Flint replied and placed his bare hand on my stomach, applying pressure to my bladder. He brought the gloved hand just below my clitoris. “So, what I’m going to do here is massage the clitoral -”

“I know what you’re doing!” I shrieked over his explanation.

“ – to essentially force the urine out of you. And you’ve got ten seconds to do it yourself or I’m doing it for you." Flint smirked, "remember your safe words?" 

I nodded, "yeah, yellow and red.”

“And?” He asked, ensuring I was actually still game and consenting to what was about to go down.

Part of me wanted to call it off right then, but part of me liked the tension of it, how absolutely nervous I was. I enjoyed the catch 22: I needed to relax to get myself out of the situation, but there was no possible way that this sort of situation would enable me to relax. The closer I got to the bottom of the countdown, the more tense I became. And as much as I despised the total violation of him forcing me to urinate, I would be lying if I didn’t say I couldn’t close my eyes right now and still picture myself in that bathroom, seeing the smirk on his face, and revisiting that swelling nervousness with at least a remote feeling of arousal.

“I have to pee,” Lida said.

“Good!” I exclaimed, “good! Let her go first.”

“Lida doesn’t pee in the toilet, silly,” Flint replied, not leaving me any time to contemplate what that meant before adding, “now, come on.” He resumed counting and I squeezed my eyes shut, begging every last inch of my urinary system to just cooperate. When he reached the end of the countdown, Flint rose to his feet and removed the glove, patting my cheek. “Next time, you’re going to be expected to do it. Or I will go down there and I will absolutely do it for you. Are we clear?” I nodded and he ushered the girls out.

The second the last set of feet left the bathroom, I was finally able to urinate. 

“It happened!” I exclaimed, “floodgates are open." 

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Flint called from the living room.

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Piss Shy, Part Five

Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

WRM arrived and greeted me with a kiss before settling onto the couch. I sat down in the floor in front of her and she leaned down and kissed me, placing her hands on my shoulders and scratching her nails over my back. 

Flint’s primary, Lida, showed up soon after in a sweatshirt and a pair of lycra workout pants. He sent her off to the shower, telling her to come back in her bra, her panties and the pants. While she was washing off, Flint told Macy to show WRM a video she’d made of her. Apparently she was drinking…something.

Yeah, yeah, I’m pretty sure I know what it was. 

“Look at her,” Flint said to me as we watched Macy sit beside WRM, showing her the video. She was actually watching along – which I give her major credit for, because I’d be hiding behind my hands in two seconds. “Look at her face.”

I chuckled nervously, “yeah. That’s contrition." 

"Should be,” Flint replied, sitting down on WRM’s other side, “what she did was disgusting. Do you want to watch?”

I shook my head, blushing.

“Why not?” Flint asked.

“I like to be excluded,” I replied. 

He smirked, pointing next to the television. “Go kneel over there,” he ordered. “Hands behind your head.” I moved over and got myself into position. “Legs wider,” he said, and I adjusted. 

Making sure my posture was straight, I watched the three of them: Macy’s face a little pale from the humiliation, WRM smirking with the sort of amusement that indicated that she was both glad and a little jealous that the girl in the video wasn’t her, Flint somewhere between smug and proud. 

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Piss Shy, Part Three

Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.

I hitched up my skirt and started rubbing my clit, I hadn’t worn panties that day, a fact that I was now grateful for as I considered the humiliating possibility of having to lower them around my knees. Despite the fact that I was petrified that someone might see, even if it was nighttime, and despite the fact that I was humiliated, or maybe because of it, I was soaking wet. 

The door swung open and Flint walked past me, gesturing for me to follow. “Very nice,” he said, and I tugged my skirt back down and shuffled after him. “Now clean that up, fingers in your mouth. It comes out of you, it goes back into you.” I nodded, shoving my fingers into my mouth. We got in the car, buckled up, and headed off to his partner’s house.

“So,” he asked while we waited at a stoplight. “what are the tallies for? What happens when you hit eight?”

For the thousandth time that hour, my cheeks burned. “Eight ounces in a cup. Each tally is an ounce. And at eight, I…” I sucked a deep breath in through my nose and glanced out the window, “I drink a cup of my own piss.”

It was something Sir had come up with. I would be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t five thousand percent reticent about it, but I also would be lying if I said I wasn’t secretly, deep-in-the-stomach, vaguely intrigued by the idea. So, I agreed, totally reluctantly, and hoped that I’d never do anything horrible enough to get up to eight tallies.

But, now I was at two. One quarter of the way there. 

“That’s disgusting,” Flint said through a grin, chuckling and shaking his head. “I bet you want to make sure you don’t get any more tallies tonight, huh? You’d better be on your best behavior.”

I nodded, “yeah. I’d like it if you were able to tell him that I was a good girl tonight.”

“Well, that’s entirely up to you, isn’t it?” He patted my knee. “By the way, I like the way you trail along to keep up with me.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Sir says I’m supposed to heel.” This got another laugh out of him.

When we reached his partner’s place, I got out of my seat and noticed I’d dripped right onto the seat. Before Flint could see it, I wiped it up with my hand and licked it off of my palm. 

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doctortease:

The Exam, Part One

She squirmed a little on the crinkly paper of the table. “Daddy,” she said in her smallest voice, “I’m scared.”

“Nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart,” Daddy said, stroking her hair and adjusting her headband. “I’ll be right here the whole time. And we’re only here to do what’s best for you.”

“That’s right,” said the doctor, closing the door behind him and flipping through her chart. “I’m sure this is all going to be quite routine, young miss. We’ll get you taken care of in no time, and then your daddy can take you out for a treat. Won’t that be nice?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

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So doctortease is an amazing writer but also like a total meanie.

So, I don’t know. If you wanna go support a meanie, go read this story because maybe I touched myself to it and then noticed the tag at the bottom and was like “you fucker” whatever maybe not who cares.

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“Life makes fools of all of us sooner or later. But keep your sense of humor and you’ll at least be able to take your humiliations with some measure of grace.”  ― Paul Murray, Skippy Dies.