“Now, sweetheart, don’t be shy.”
humiliation
Modesty’s a sham, sweetheart. Now, smile.
Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Seven
After a little bit, Craftsmate and I decided to head over to one of the play areas. Before we sat down, he put my hood back on plus the blindfold and gag in front of everyone and I blushed so hard my cheeks burned against the material covering them. Taking hold of my leash, he escorted me over to a couch.
My feet were starting to become a bit tired from the heels on my boots and there was a growing stumble in my step, so I was grateful when he had me take a seat before I felt him sit down next to me. Around us, I could hear people talking but I could barely make out the conversation.
Craftsmate cuffed my wrists together in front and leaned in close to me, whispering through the spandex of the hood over my ear. “Do you like that everyone can see you like this?”
I whined around the rubber cock in my mouth and he stroked my forehead as if he were petting the trapped hair beneath the hood.
He continued to explain to me the layout of the room, the people inside of it. His hand rested on my knee and I felt a bit more grounded and secure. Otherwise, the noises and the conversation was a bit overwhelming.
“There’s a girl getting beaten over in the corner. Everyone’s watching this guy with his whip,” Craftsmate explained, “do you think I should volunteer you next? I’m not sure you could handle it. It’s pretty mean-looking.”
I buried my covered face in the crook of his neck and groaned.
He chuckled, “fine, sweetheart. Do you want to watch, too?”
I nodded and he reached up, unbuckling the blindfold.
Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Five
Eventually, Craftsmate had me stop walking and hold still while he removed the blindfold, gag, hood and handcuffs. I blushed when I noticed the fact that there were people standing around near us and reached up to nervously wipe some drool from the corner of my mouth. Taking hold once more of the leash, he leaned down and kissed me, saying that he was proud of what I had done. And, truth be told, I was, too.
Beside us was what can be aptly described as a crawlspace with bars on it, essentially a cage dug into the wall. After opening up the door, Craftsmate applied some pressure to my shoulder and had me kneel and crawl inside. Once I was in, he pulled the bolt shut on the door and tied my leash to the bars to prevent me from crawling away from the front of the cage.
“Aw, look at you in there. How cute,” he teased. A couple walked by, both partners casting a glance down into the cage and smirking before continuing on. My cheeks were burning as Craftsmate pulled a chair up by the cage and took a seat. "I like you in there,“ he explained, "I think you’re going to stay in there for a little bit.”
I started to pout, but paused as I looked beyond him and noticed a man securing a woman over a bench. She was practically naked, save for a pair of panties and a collar around her neck. As the man began to flog her, Craftsmate followed my gaze and I could see him grin.
“Were you watching them?” He asked, knowing the answer.
“No,” I replied and turned my head.
He reached down through the bars and grabbed hold of my hair, turning my head. “No, no, I think you should watch him beat her.” He was smiling. “Do you like that?” He asked, patting my cheek. “Do you like the way he’s hurting her?" I tried once more to look away and he pulled my head back to face forward. "Come on, watch them.”
I could have died right on the spot.
Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Four
Craftsmate reached down my stockings and removed the vibrator. He took off the clamps and rubbed some of the ache out of my nipples. He pulled my collar on before I heard the click of the leash being attached. After taking some time to pull my skirt back down and straighten out my clothing, he let my arms down. I had an opportunity to stretch them out before he locked them behind my back with a pair of handcuffs.
“All right, let’s go,” Craftsmate said and pulled on the leash. I groaned softly and followed, stumbling a bit as I adjusted to walking with most of my senses partially or completely taken away.
He stopped and applied gentle pressure to my shoulders, encouraging me to sit on what I soon found was a chair behind me. Sitting down as well, Craftsmate looped an arm around me, rubbing my shoulder while I swore I could hear him talking to someone. The hum of conversation was around us and I hung my head, unspeakably humiliated. I could barely tell who was talking to who before he helped me back to my feet, looped an arm around my shoulder, and let me out into what I deduced was the main crowd of people.
I stumbled a bunch, shaky on my boots and practically hobbled by the idea of how many people were probably seeing me like this. I nearly knocked into someone and I heard some voice say “lovely” from behind me. I tried to convince myself that they weren’t referring to me and that this place was big enough and that maybe people were too wrapped up in their own business to notice some girl being led around the dungeon on a leash, handcuffed, hooded, blindfolded and gagged.
A little something to thank you all for the kind messages regarding the recent mountain of stress I’m climbing.
As you can see, I’ve been…destressing.
And giving in to a certain boyfriend’s promise of cookies if I posted this.
Yes, the plug is turned sideways. Yes, there’s some super humiliating stuff written on my body. Yes, I am blushing right now.
(Had Craftsmate photoshop the background to tears because I’m a moron who thinks somebody is going to recognize my bedsheets.)
A clever way to combine the imperative of ease of inspection with the little brat’s desire for pretty pink panties.
All we need now is a built-in moisture sensor over the cunt and a remote-controlled e-stim device for punishment over the clit and she could almost be permitted out in public.
Hiding forever.
“It’s just very invasive,” I had murmured into the pillow, burying my face, trying to hide from the wetness I could feel forming in my cunt.
These are the things that are hardest to accept, the ones I feel myself enthusiastically liking despite the sheer humiliation of being forced to lie still and endure it.
You can feel awful small over on this end.
Sweetheart goes to meet Daddy’s friends and learns that some icebreakers are considerably more awkward than the name game.