Humiliation via Text

With the recent move, we've found ourselves closer to old friends and new. It's been really spectacular, in that many of them are as geeky as we are (and truth be told, a few are deepening our geeky-ness). Another particularly awesome bonus is that a few of them are kink-curious themselves, and most of them are kink-friendly.

On July 31, one of our friends whom we have known for years, celebrated his birthday. His request was boobie pictures. Being the obliging sort, Master confirmed the birthday fellow's phone number when our geeky, kink-friendly friends popped over, and sent a picture of my boobage via text. It was very much like the pink ribbon. It was embarrassing and a bit humiliating, considering among our friends (who were geeky friends before we realized they were also kinky friends) i tend to be rather prudish. After a few moments, our visiting friends began looking at their phones. One looked at me and smirked. Another looked at Master and asked if He'd meant to do that. And i was largely befuddled until the last text arrived in the room, when the third friend exclaimed "Boobies!"

Of course, i nabbed Master's phone to prevent the picture from spreading further by His fingers, but His phone is not set up the same way mine is, so i wound up opening His music files and playing "Control" by Poe. How stunningly appropriate! At that point Master demanded the return of His phone and my face was probably as pink as the (thankfully) absent pink ribbon of doom.

i hope our birthday friend enjoyed the picture as much as it fueled Master's and my enjoyment at one of our favorite aspects of play: humiliation.

Pink Ribbon of Doom!...

Well, I had intended to discuss a number of fun things we experienced this passed weekend. However, it would seem that doing so might bring us to financial ruin. Alas. I do want to say we had an awesome time!


So instead, I'll talk about our return home last night. I spent some time unpacking the heavy load of toys and implements I had brought with me. Last year we had quite the surplus of spending cash for the shops, though this year we were drastically limited due to the recent move. However we did have a little cash to spend and found few things I just couldn't live without.


While unpacking, I came across this 1.5" thick strip of pink ribbon that I have had for years but never really utilized. I stuffed it into my pocket and finished returning my toys to their home. We live quite close to a good friend or ours and I knew that he was going to come over for a brief visit to discuss the weekend. In fact, he arrived before I had completed unpacking and I allowed the girl to mooch a cigarette from him while I finished (remind me to explain the girl's restriction on smoking at some point).

Humiliate the Dog...

So, last night I really wanted to do some humiliation play with my sweet slave girl. There is nothing quite like having a sexy bitch on her knees, panting and barking bouncing those sweet tits. Hmmmmmmm... Any way, so I took her into the bedroom after having her put her hair up in pig tails, made her strip for me and got to work transforming her into that whimpering mutt I love so much.

First, I started with her hands. Black socks slipped over her arms and black electrical tape around her fingers. Properly pawed (I some how doubt that is the correct usage of that particular verb but hey) it was time to focus on her tits. A tight rope wound round and round until the flesh is stretched, turning colors and tied tight. I then used leather belts to bind her legs, keeping her on her knees. Next came the arms, bound with pretty rope wrist to shoulder and bound together behind her back. Oh, and as an added bonus I taped an egg vibrator to her clit, a little something to keep her busy. As the icing on the cake, the spiked collar went around her puppy throat.

Thus properly puppified, the torment commenced. I pulled out some dog toys, put hair clips on her nipples, and cranked up the vibe. My sweet doggy spent the next hour in this begging position, panting, barking, begging, whining and chewing on her toys. As a treat for my slave when I finally untited her, I gave her a bone if you know what I mean. I got plenty of pics that I posted on my Fetlife profile. It was a truely hot scene that ended in some fantastic sex. My bitch was literally dripping wet when I sank my cock into her hungry cunt. The next part of this humiliating scene, making her look at the pictures I took and posted on Fetlife. Nummy...

Choice less...

The focus for my slave's training as of late has been on the choice less nature of being a slave. How the lack of any personal will is less accurate in relation to a consensual slave than the knowledge that she does not get a choice in the actions that are dictated to her. Very few of us are looking for a doormat. Strong willed, opinionated subjects make for far more interesting slaves. The difference is in accepting that, thought willful and opinionated, they have absolutely no choice in their obedience and submission to their Masters. A perfect example of this and a training tool that I used just this evening follows:


My slave approached me and requested my permission to use the restroom to pee. With a rather evil smile on my face, I told her that she could indeed pee, but she would need to get a cup from the kitchen. She retrieved the last of the plastic cups we use for company and returned to the front room where I was waiting for her. I could tell that she had a pretty good idea what I wanted from her and also that I knew just how much she had a problem with it. My pet asked if she could use the bathtub, but I instead told her to squat down on the tile floor that serves as our tiny little foyer.


Blushing, but trying very hard to be obedient, she pulled down her pants, squatted right in front of our front door, and pissed in the cup. I could see her struggling with the embarrassment and humiliation that I was subjecting her to, particularly when a small stream began to run down her leg to her pants. When she was finished, the real anger began to show. My slave quickly expressed how upset it made her to pee on herself like that, ruining one of the last clean pairs of pants, and how she had told me that it was not going work well to begin with.


Now, at this point I knelt her down at my feet and explained to her that she didn't have a choice in the matter. Whether or not she enjoyed or particularly liked the task I had assigned to her, she had no choice but to do it. Further, that the only thing at all she had any control over was how she went about doing it. It was up to her whether or not she was going to complete whatever task with the humility, poise, and composure that I expect from my slave, or whether she was going to pitch a fit and make things much worse for herself. I went on to explain that the small humiliation she had just suffered was nothing at all and that it could always be worse. I asked her whether or not I had made her smell it, to which she snapped yes! I asked her again, did I make her place the cup under her nose and take a deep breath? No, she said, her head down.


I then made her go retrieve the cup full of her acrid piss. When she returned to her knees at my feet I told her to put the cup under her nose and breath it in. With tears in her eyes, she obeyed. The cup slowly found its place just under her nose and she took a long slow breath. I reminded her again that she had no choice in the matter and that if I wanted her to drink it, she would one way or another. Poise, composure, grace, humility, gratitude; these are the things I expect from my slave. I then ordered her to taste her piss.


Despite the anger and fear in her eyes hiding behind the falling tears, my little slave did as she was told. Slowly the cup reached her lips and without much hesitation she took a sip. Impressively, my little slut held her piss in her mouth for over ten seconds before finally spitting it back into the cup, gagging. More tears escaped her angry eyes as I smiled into her glare. I corrected her posture so that her head was not tilted downward in such a scowl and asked her what she had learned. "slave has no choice, Master," she said. Good, she is finally learning. I told her that it could still be worse and I could very easily watch her drink the whole cup down. I ordered her to compose herself and be grateful for the attention and that I hadn't yet ordered her to drink the rest. Slowly it sunk in and my slave did regain her composure.


I pulled her close and stroked her hair, telling her that she had no right to make judgments about things. I was not interested in her disgust, only her obedience. I added that if I were willing to do something, like taste her piss, then she most certainly could not refrain. I explained that there are even some hardcore health nuts that actually drink their own piss as part of an extreme health regiment, that they recommend it. Finally, much to her relief, I ordered her to dump and toss the cup, wash her mouth out, and return to me so that we could eat our dinner.


Following the meal and a little play in the front room, we retreated into the bedroom. Having been naughty and used a word forbidden to her a number of times in the previous days, I had her lie across the bed in anticipation of a paddling. Already forgetting that things could always be worse, I asked if she was ready and she snapped that she wasn't. Here I am, about to beat her ass for one misbehavior anyway, and she's getting mouthy. I asked her why she wasn't ready and she told me that she figured that I was about to use the nastiest of the paddles we have. A real heavy duty little number with a metal inlay, about two inches wide, and made from rubber. A truly masochistic friend of my slave who had previously bragged that she had taken a hog bat across the ass a couple of times and didn't even flinch, once begged me to stop beating her ass after just three hits from this little baddie. It leaves impressive marks, guaranteed.


At any rate, holding the "nice" paddle in hand, I informed her that I was now going to use the evil paddle since she had bitched about it. My slave squealed and begged for me not to use that one and I reminded her again that she should be grateful and not bitch about things as they could most definitely get worse for her. Settling, she apologized for her remarks and begged to be punished. I informed her that I would be doubling the punishment and ordered her to count. After ten swats, I told her the punishment for the word use was over. Now I was about to begin the punishment for her behavior. The next ten strokes I put more power into, making her jump and squirm and cry with each hit. When she complained I was making it harder on the second set I reminded her that this was the "nice" paddle, as she called it, and that I could still get the other one. My pet chose to finish out the remainder of the punishment with the nice paddle. When finished, I asked her if she had learned her lesson and what it meant. My slave said that she understood that she was to display poise, grace, and composure, she was suppose to be grateful, and most importantly that she didn't have any choice in the matter. I instructed her to kiss the "nice" paddle in gratitude and she obeyed quickly and eagerly.


Such a good girl I have, and such poignant lessons. Gratitude, humility, poise, composure; even in the face of things she does not like, even those its fair to say she hates. She has no choice, at all, ever. She can only effect how she submits and obeys and she should always remember, it could be so, so much worse...