I forget sometimes how much Richard enjoys humiliating me. I also forget that it is through my own worries, my own insecurities, and my own girlish fears that he finds the material to humiliate me with. He knows my cycle…knows when ‘Aunt Flow’ comes for a visit. Last night he knew she had settled in for her unwelcome three or four day visit. It embarrasses me. I always feel as if I need to remind him that I am on my period. I know that when I say that I hope we are on the phone or chatting online. It is impossibly embarrassing for me to tell him. It came up right after he pulled me over his knee. He had spanked me a few times and I wasn’t quite squirming yet but I was beginning to feel the heat of his hand. That is when he pulled my panties down. I tried to leap off of his lap but he stopped me (of course).

“What’s wrong” he asked me patiently.

“You know…..” I said looking down at the floor.

“That’s right; my little girl has her period. Are you afraid I am going to see something?”

“Yes Sir. I am wearing something a little more traditional than usual.”

I explained. Typically I use Insteads. Now without sounding like an infomercial let me explain what they are for those of you who do not know. They are a silicone cup…a small liner that cups your cervix that catches the fluid so it need not ever be absorbed into anything. You simply place it inside yourself and forget it. You can leave it in for 12 hours and it is the best thing probably since the tampon. Anyway….so that is what I usually use but was out of them this time and they aren’t always easy to find so stock up ladies if you see them. I was wearing a tampon and the possibility of him seeing the tell-tell string dangling between my cunt lips horrified me.

“Are you afraid I will pull it out?” he asked me. I wanted to bury myself into the floor, into anything so I didn’t have to look at him. Impossible when that person’s knees are the vice that holds you down in your own humiliation. He hauled my body back up across his lap and continued to spank me. I was just happy to have my head down. Even happier when he pulled me up and told me he wanted my mouth on his cock. I quite happily sucked on him hoping it would make him forget the object of my embarrassment.

“Get up on the bed…..on your back. Spread your legs for me and spread your arms.”

I tried to do it…I even did it for a minute and then I remembered the string. I imagined it glowing white as if a black light was overhead even though the room was soft and dim. I tried to close my legs but he was already on me. Kneeling there between my legs…holding my legs open and looking down at me…looking down there at me. I turned my head to the side and tried to pretend I was some place else. Only my embarrassment wouldn’t allow me to forget that Richard’s finger was stroking me between my legs.

“You are wet….you are always wet for me. Did you know that? Look how embarrassed you are.”

I tried to close my legs again and twist away from him. He stopped me. I felt his fingers lifting my clit and stroking it hard…I heard his voice, his words telling me to cum for him. I was already cumming…right through my humiliation I came for him. Even after I cum his fingers stay on me…they move against my flesh and pull everything from me that he wants. I give it to him because it is his. I imagined his fingers tugging gently on the string and even now I am hoping it was my imagination. I felt him play with it. My face burned. I was humiliated beyond belief.

“Does that embarrass you? I should pull on your little string, shouldn’t I? I should tell you to take it out and show it to me. And you would do it too…wouldn’t you? You would do anything I told you, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes Sir.” I said when he paused. I meant it too and he knows it.

“Look at me. My slut…say it. Say you are my slut.” I said it.“You are my cunt…say that too. Tell me you are a cunt, my cunt.” I said that too.

“I think I should pull on your little string. Pull it out and rub it across your face….rub it across your breasts.”

“No…no…no.” I was whimpering so scared he would do it. Terrified of feeling his fingers there….so scared he would do as he threatened. It wasn’t past him…I knew he would do it. Knew that he could and that knowledge aroused me to the point where I almost helped he would do it. I wanted to feel that feeling…that hot feeling of mortifying humiliation that I knew he could pour over me. I craved it, needed it just like I crave and need pain. I knew that he would do anything to me if it amused him….my humiliation aroused him, amused him and I waited almost believing the next move of his hand would be a sharp tug on the wiry braided cotton string. It wasn’t. This time. I know he is capable of anything. I know there is stuff to come. His threats come true. Maybe they are just words tossed out to me to test the water…to gauge my reactions to the unthinkable. Like the enema. He told me he will give me one. One day. There is no doubt in my mind he will follow through. Like peeing on me. I knew when he mentioned it that day he would do it…and he did. He’ll do it again. Why? Why not….he can, right? There is still so much he can take from me….and although I haven’t given it to him yet it is all there in front of him. There is nothing stopping him from taking all of me…it makes me feel so much like the toy. Like I am this plaything…this little doll that he gets to love, or hurt or humiliate. I am pliable…needing this from him.

I rarely question it anymore.

9 thoughts on “instead

  1. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

    Those, the first words out of your mouth. And yet you know you crave humiliation. What better way for me to humiliate you than to tell everyone the part you left out. You must have known, when you posted this, that I would tell – I would HAVE to tell. I want you to read this comment and masturbate for me while thinking about it.

    I said “I should pull it out and drag it up over your stomach and across your breasts.” Suddenly, with my hands holding your knees, you convulsed in an uncontrolled, involuntary orgasm, untouched. And as I looked at you in amazement, and amusement….

    “Please don’t tell anyone.”

    My dear pixie, bath in your humiliation, for not only will you do ANYTHING, sometimes even thinking about being humiliated can make you orgasm. Which is more humiliating, my dear, that you came at just the thought of being humiliated, before I did anything? Or my telling people about it? And why should I share this with everyone? Because I can.

    Think about this humiliation, and cum for me again.

  2. OMG. This ranks up there with the enema in the glass bowl for me. Wow. You wrote about it amazingly, like i was right there watching the whole thing (and squirming in my corner for you, btw) and yeah… totally freaking embarassing.

    i held my breath through this one.

    And then i found it highly arousing. This is, honestly, HOT! (i am also a humiliation whore).

    “Does that embarrass you? I should pull on your little string, shouldn’t I? I should tell you to take it out and show it to me….” — Classic.

    i don’t know what else to say. You wrote this beautifully and Richard’s response was just… perfect. You guys thrill me & have a wonderful thing no matter how many bumps along the way.


  3. i have no yay’s for this one…because it stole my breath away! Why IS this such a taboo for so many women?? It’s incredibly interesting in a cultural sense to think about….

  4. Once again I find your words to be my dreams. Arousing does not begin to define the effect this entry has on me.
    I heart the both of you.

  5. Wow. First things first….I was cringing the whole way through reading this! I can’t even begin to imagine how embarrassing this was for you.

    I, myself, have always been lucky in the fact that Master and I have had a long-distance relationship, and I have always been very careful about organising trips around when I have my period, or if I couldn’t manage that I would ‘skip’ it (because I’m on the pill. Although I didn’t do it all that often). So I have been extremely lucky, and only twice, I do believe, that one of our trips has coincided with my little red gift. One these times, He just understood, and it was these times that He was more the partner/lover than the Dom/Master. (Thank god!).

    Now in saying all this, for us, this will soon change as I’m moving in with Him. I don’t know how this is going to be, but I think it will mostly depend on how I’m feeling. Unfortunately I’ve been one of the unlucky women that ever since I was first ‘blessed’ I have had terrible pain and nausea. So I have always had to have time off every month because of this. Hence why I think this will depend on me. Sorry, bit long-winded, will get to the point now.

    I think part of the reason why this topic is so taboo is because we’re taught to be respecting ladies (well I was anyway), and it’s very unladylike to talk about such things or to share such things with anyone that isn’t of the same gender. For me, I know the main reason is that I don’t feel clean when my little red gift makes an appearance. Maybe it’s different for others, maybe it’s not. But I think because I feel so dirty (And not in a good way), and so yuck (pain and sickness), it’s just embarrassing. It’s just embarrassing that we have to go through this every month, not having a choice, and not having any control over something that is so dirty (but while also being a natural part of life).


  6. One more thing I forgot to add…
    How cruel of Richard to tell us exactly what you wanted Him to not say anything about!

    Although, by the way He wrote that comment, I think He was proud of you pixie 😉


  7. A couple of thoughts:

    I find it very interesting that the women are chiming in and the men are hiding somewhere.

    pixie once warned me about her situation, and asked if the “yuck” factor would mean I wanted to cancel our meeting, and I said something along the lines of “what’s yucky about it?” My goal being to make her understand there is nothing we do that is yucky, as gross as it might sound. Breaking down the barriers and the inhibitions is all part of the D/s process.

    Interesting that the comments use the same “yuck” word. Plus embarrassing. Yes, embarrassing the submissive, and moving her past that, into the place where she will do what is required, what is asked, regardless of how embarrassing or humiliating it might be in the greater society, with the understanding that we are not, at that moment, in the greater society, we are only the two of us, with no barriers or inhibitions or limitations, one with all the power and the other completely submitting, and giving up all inhibitions and limits – that is the goal and the process.

    At the end of the day, I want pixie to let go of all those worries, focus only on what is asked of her, and to do it without hesitation, or worry about embarrassment or yuck.

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