Humiliation Artinya Novels & Stories

I was the reason he ascended to a rank that would otherwise have been possible in his lifetime. Was he going to have to beg shamelessly? To be mocked and ridiculed by the same people he used to trample over? All it took was a couple of setbacks for his already meager flame to be reduced to all but a pathetic wisp of smoke. I had been too good to him. I always believed my sincerity would be rewarded. In the end, all I did was let the two vermin take advantage of me. They were freeloaders through and through. Elena went on with a faint tinge of helplessness in her voice, "As for Miss Elena… She seems quite displeased with the way things have turned out.

But that was all part of my humiliation. “Mmmm, mmmmfffff” I mumbled through the gag, still trying to answer him. He laughed a cruel laugh, and started to slap me across the face and the back of the head. New waves of shame engulfed me, and I felt my stomach starting to contract. I couldn’t believe I was getting so excited from being degraded like this. The slaps weren’t hard, just swift and frequent – smearing my make-up across my face. It was at that moment, under the brutal fucking and the humiliating torment, that I realised I was about to cum.

“Give her more! She deserves more than this!! Voices keep coming; rotten things keep raining on me. I can only cover my face from shame and humiliation. “You are worse than a whore! You even had to ruin another woman’s home! Cheapt home-wrecker!” This one broke all the bitterness they were holding back. I am covered in the juice and the hanging pieces of the rotten tomatoes and other friuts. I smell rotten. I am stinking all the way to the heavens. I am still getting more. I stand frozen, feeling the slime run down my face, mixing with my tears. I can’t even wipe it off. My hands are shaking too much as they secure my face. I hear them laughing, celebrating their win, and enjoying my humilia

I used to think humiliation had a sound. Like glass breaking, or a car crash. Something loud and violent you could point to. I was wrong. Humiliation sounds like polite laughter. The kind that ripples through a rooftop party at 11:47 PM, when three hundred of Manhattan’s most connected people decide you’re the punchline. “Come on, Alina. Don’t act shocked.”

The object rolled harmlessly to the side, but the gesture mattered more than the impact. He paused for half a second before continuing, and that pause was louder than any shout. “He hates being seen like this,” I whispered, my voice barely audible even to myself. “Yes,” Matteo replied while moving closer to the table and resting his hands against the back of a chair. “He would rather be feared than laughed at.” I did not feel joy watching him shrink beneath the weight of public ridicule. Humiliation is not the same as justice. It stains differently. It lingers longer. I studied the screen as if I were watching a chess piece move exactly where I had expected, yet still feeling the weight of t

Willow asked, her voice quaking as her pleasure built. Cash shrugged. “A lot of submissives enjoy being humiliated. Degraded. They relish the loss of control over their bodies, just like you’re doing right now. Giving me money while I tell them how pathetic they are through their phone or computer screen, reminding them that they’ll never so much as touch me... it’s just another form of humiliation. Another way of giving up control.” “Oh, God...” Willow muttered, her orgasm nearing. “I didn’t say you could come yet, dear,” Cash said.

Benedict looked at me, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. “Get a ride home. I need to send Anna back to her place.” I lowered my eyes and remained silent. Benedict had a severe obsession with cleanliness and never allowed any lingering scents in his car. Once, because of his stubborn temperament, he had offended a client. I nearly drank myself to death just to apologize on his behalf. Yet afterward, he frowned at me with open disgust and said, “You reek. Figure out your own way back.” That day, he abandoned me alone in the snow-covered outskirts of the city.

He growls loudly, pulling at the restraints before relaxing. Degradation; humiliation. He had mentioned those as forms of punishment, a way to break a sub. He mentioned how it was the one thing he could not stand, him being humiliated or degraded. What would make him feel humiliated? I walk out of the room, back to mine, and grab the bag. Walking back in, I open it, and I begin removing the makeup, hoping that he will realise what I am doing before he has all the makeup on. I grab the brush and blusher and walk over to him. I rub the brush into the blusher before applying it to his cheeks. I swing the paddle over his ass again.

I obeyed, humiliated tears mixing with the drool running down my chin. They degraded me nonstop with words that burned deeper than the physical roughness. “Worthless basement cumdump.” “Free-use cousin pussy.” “Grandma’s little secret whore getting passed around like a party favor.” Each insult made my body react, clenching tighter around them despite the shame flooding my mind.

The picture of Denver my fiancé bending over Mimi my best friend in a doggy position while using my painting stool for support makes me feel like burying myself in the ground. Humilation , betrayal , anger ,hatred, embarrassment, stupidness, irritation! I felt it all in my heart and bones. “You two are the people that I genuinely love and care about after my parents. How could you do this to me ? What did I do to you guys to deserve all these huh?” I choked on my own voice, I could feel the tears stinging in my eyeballs but I kept batting my eye and fanning my face to stop the tears from rolling down my face.