Embarrassed Stories Novels & Stories

she laughed again. “Such a stupid question, I know.” Amber joined in the laughter while shaking her head. Melissa nodded in agreement. “Alright, next up is ‘Truth or dare?’.” She took a deep breath and spun the bottle. It landed on Amber. “Uh oh,” Amber said, laughing nervously. “Truth.” “Okay. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?” Melissa asked. Amber flushed. “Oh geez. One time in fifth grade, I peed my pants in front of the whole class while giving an essay presentation. It was mortifying.”

The Public Humiliation Zara walked onto the stage, her legs feeling like lead. She felt the weight of five hundred pairs of judgmental eyes. She looked at the crowd, her dignity hanging by a thread. "I am here to say," she began, her voice trembling but clear, "that the stories are just scandals. There is nothing between Mr. Aryan Knight and me. I am a worker for the family, and the Knights were simply... being charitable."

As if he doesn’t have every woman in the room casually sneaking glances at him. When his knee brushes mine under the table, it feels like my entire skeleton glitches. “So,” I say, desperate for something to fill the silence. “Tell me something embarrassing.” His brow lifts. “Why?” “Because I need to feel better about existing in a world where I once mistook dry shampoo for deodorant.” He snorts. “Fine. I will give you an embarrassing memory.” “You have those?” “Of course. I once farted on stage during a Shakespeare play. Live audience. Full cast. Mics on.”

I needed someone I could talk to, someone I could tell about the embarrassing moment I had witnessed in the mall and the best person was my mother. "Hey, mom. How are you?" I said as I dialed my mother's phone number. "I'm fine, sweetie. How about you?" my mother answered, her voice carrying the sound of worry. I hesitated for a moment before answering, "I'm not doing so great, actually." "What's wrong, honey?" my mother asked, the worry in her voice deepening. "I just had the most embarrassing experience at the store," I said, my voice quivering slightly. "The cashier recognized me and started asking about dad's fraudulent activities."

“I’m sorry, did I offend you?” I looked at his hand holding my right arm. He quickly dropped it, scared that he made me uncomfortable by touching me. “No, no. It’s not your fault you did nothing wrong I was just…” I looked at the ceiling for a second, trying to come up with an answer. “I don’t know, embarrassed, I guess?” “What’s so embarrassing about that?” He said and guided me to sit back down, this time, he sat beside me. What’s embarrassing? What do I tell him? I’m embarrassed because I was a horrible flirt or because of the drama? “Because you’re new to town and the news of our family drama has already reached you.”

The table went quiet in the way that tables go quiet when a question has been asked that everyone was waiting for someone to ask. Margaret lifted her coffee cup. Rosalind smiled pleasantly. Adrian was very still at the far end of the table. I looked at Diana. I looked at the question she was asking, which was innocent on its surface and not innocent at all underneath, and I thought about what I could say and what I could not say and the considerable gap between those two categories. Then I set down my coffee cup. And I smiled. ★★★ "It is actually a rather embarrassing story," I said. "Which probably means I should not tell it. But then the embarrassing ones are always the best ones, aren't t

Two Months Later: Emily’s POV It's been two months since the incident. My bruises are starting to get healed. Luckily, my husband didn't notice them as we rarely have sex and he is out of town right now. As I'm recovering, a fear is lingering around. He told me we will fuck after I recover. I'm scared, really very scared, what will Clover do if I refuse him again? Will he punish me, AGAIN? What will he do with me , even if I don't refuse him? Can I trust him? Definitely not , after what he did.

He could hear the faint hum of the crowd, the shuffle of papers, the sound of the host introducing him. “And now, we’d like to welcome Ryan Calloway, a second year student who has shown remarkable courage in sharing his truth through storytelling.” He walked onto the stage. Not shaking this time. Not afraid. He looked out at the sea of faces. He found Daniel near the back row. Marcus beside him. And he began: “For a long time, I didn’t think I had a story worth telling. I thought I was overreacting. Too emotional. Too dramatic. But when someone makes you smaller than you were meant to be, it takes time to remember your full shape again.”

He said and held my hand tighter, walking towards the car and opened the door for me to get in. I couldn’t find it in me to talk, I remember working at the coffee as a waiteress and mistakenly giving a customer a wrong order, she splashed the coffee right on my face but I took it as ‘one of those things’ but today, I felt truly embarrassed., I was not only embarrassed but also ridiculed, I left the only place I called home and now, I am homeless.

“I told you, I won’t force you.” “But we must, I mean we can’t fake the-” “We’ll mark each other. It'll be enough to sustain our story. I know how you feel about it, but the mark will fade away eventually. We'll renew it once in a while.” By the end of this talk, he was only in his underwear. A small whimper escaped my mouth causing me to slap a hand over it. His laugh filled the room. Despite the turmoil of emotions that were ravaging my mind, I couldn’t deny the fact that his body was nothing less than perfect.