Humiliated

This is the date I wasn’t planning on writing about. I tend to not write about scenes gone bad, or parts of my mind I discover that disturb me. It’s not all kinky sex and orgasms. But this is an assignment, so I do not have a choice.

I knew this week would be mental torture. Tasks would be assigned, and I would be denied release. It is Humiliation Week, and I will have to talk about that another time. I am restricted on what I can say to anyone.

The weekend before this was to begin I wanted to have fun. I wanted cock. I wanted to be grabbed by my throat, thrown down, and fucked roughly. I wanted to be used, and I wanted to cum. I am a girl, and a slut. No problem! But I didn’t just want any cock, I wanted dominant cock.

Conveniently, a Twitter follower, a Dom, was going to be in a nearby town for the weekend. We started talking more in DMs, email and by phone. Our conversations were making me hot as hell, and I was very much looking forward to our meeting. I brought up my safety rules, and they were discussed. I felt safe enough to meet him at his hotel (plus had other safety back ups), and we talked a bit about what would happen once that door closed.

Oh, yes. This was going to be fun! I was going to get cock after days of torment and denial here by two Doms with their consent.

The time arrived. I saw him waiting outside. I smiled and walked up to him. I am sure we spoke a bit, but all I could think about was that door closing, and being fucked. I followed him to his room. I was nervous and told him that. The fact that I was walking into a hotel room with, honestly, a complete stranger and going to let him use me any way he chose is still intimidating to say the least. Feeling vulnerable and helpless does get me wet, though.

The door closed. I stood there. He stepped away and told me to take off all of my clothes and get on the bed. I needed to use the bathroom badly, though, and asked permission. It was allowed, but he watched. I took off my clothes and crawled onto the bed. I was grinning.

The entire time he was talking about the fact that he could do anything to me. About what a slut I was. About how smart my mouth was on Twitter. It was kind of scary. I got hotter, but my grin had faded. He told me to look away and moved in to examine me.

At first he didn’t touch me. He walked around me, looking, talking, asking questions. I answered. He took photos. He moved in behind me. I quivered. I felt his breath on my cunt and waited. His comments were becoming more derogatory. The logical side of my brain started sending off alarms. The animal side began writhing and moaning as his breath traveled over my skin.

I was literally dripping wet. He commented cruelly at that and had he me hold still for some more, very up close photos of my cunt. He asked if I wanted him to fuck me. He was scaring me, and making me feel like shit, but I wanted nothing more than for him to do just that. I admitted I did, even as I felt ashamed of myself for it.

Then he touched me. He smacked my ass. He fingered me. He spoke. While I was squirming and moaning at the blows and touches he started to talk about how arrogant I was. He said I had assumed I was going to get cock. I groaned I needed cock. As he beat me, teased me, took more photos, he had me admit how desperately horny he was making me. Oh, he was! He also had me admit I was using him for my own selfish desires. And, oh hell yes I was!

He shoved his fingers inside me, pushing any thoughts out of my head. Then he said “I am not going to fuck you.” The words didn’t sink in right away. Those fingers were still in control of my mind. He stopped, moved away, and asked me to get dressed.

This was a joke, right? I started begging for his cock. I needed cock! I remained on the bed, naked and on my hands and knees. Oh hell no! I was here for cock, and I was going to get it.

He spoke again. He asked if ever in any of our conversations I had ever even thought to ask if he wanted to fuck me. Well, of course he did. I am (you may have noticed) a bit of a slut, and he knows that. I had agreed to be in a hotel room with this strange man, naked on his bed. He had been told about my rules for safewords and condoms. Why on earth would it ever cross my mind to ask him?

He started talking about respect, and lessons to be learned. And submission. It started to sink in. He was serious. I was naked, and horny, and had just been sexually tormented, and that was all that was going to happen. I let out a frustrated growl. It was loud enough for him to shush me because it could be heard through the walls. I apologized for everything. I begged for cock again. He still said no. I offered to serve him perhaps in some other way. I was still trying to manipulate this somehow so that he would somehow fuck me.

He told me to get up and put my clothes on. I realized for the first time how foolish I now looked on his bed begging, pleading. I flushed. But I even laughed a bit. This was one hell of a mindfuck! It wasn’t until I started to put my clothes on and saw my phone that the next wave of emotions hit.

Oh no! Twitter! I had been very publicly bragging about meeting this guy to fuck. I had been doing happy dances about getting cock. What was I going to say? Oh god! What was he going to say? To be truly humiliated there in front of everyone would be devastating to me. I brought it up. He agreed he would keep it private and said he would send my the photos.

By then I was dressed. He walked me out to my car. I kept wondering if he was going to stop me, laugh, and tell me this was the mindfuck part. “Gotcha! Now let’s fuck.” When I realized that wasn’t going to happen I turned and told him even though I was getting pissed, I wanted him even more now as the person he was, not just a cock. It was true. Sometimes the thought processes in my brain surprise me.

I got in the car. I started driving. I started getting pissed. I got furious! I picked up the phone and called pet. I summarized, and vented. She was pissed for me as well, but laughing a bit too. I started to a bit. I would figure that part out later. I needed to drive. She asked me where I was going. I didn’t know. I got off the phone and thought about it.

Up ahead I had a turn to make. I could go south to one Dom, and hours of hot, nasty fucking. Or I could go north to the other Dom, the one who had been denying me cock all week.

Suddenly a realization hit. Shame hit. Oh shit! This Dom to the north had been calling me a narcissistic slut all week. Beating me, punishing me for it all week. I tweeted about it. I had mentioned that I hadn’t learned that lesson well when I was beaten for it the second time. I still hadn’t learned. In fact the entire set up of my date that night had been me still ‘in control’ getting cock from someone else because I could. Prideful slut. To go there then would be admitting I was wrong. To him. To my date. To myself. I would also likely be punished again, worse than before.

I picked up the phone and dialed. I said one word. “Sanctuary.” It is a special sort of safeword. I turned north.

There was a lot of talking. I rambled through all of the emotions seething on the surface. (That’s when this was assigned.) He laughed at me and agreed with my date. He sent me to the cabinet to get a paddle and crop. I did and knelt.

There was a lot of pain. There were tears. I admitted I am an arrogant slut used to getting things my own way. I confessed to not even thinking of my date as a person, let alone considering his desires and feelings. There was more pain. There was a lot of screaming. When I finally looked up and said with tears in my eyes “He hurt me” it stopped. All the anger was gone. I was at my emotional core. He held me for a very, very long time.

I apologized publicly to my date the next day.

I am publicly apologizing to @JediNympho for my arrogance. I’m selfish, inconsiderate. I deserve any & all humiliation. Feel free. He agrees


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2 Responses
  1. Miss Lisa says:

    Wow Hell of a lesson to learn.

  2. sassy0ne says:

    *hugs* your blog tore at my heart .. its a hard lesson and looks like you had to learn it the hard way. Thank you for sharing its these moments where we grow the most.