Trish Loves To Be Humiliated

He found me on the packed dance floor. I don't know how, it was like he had a sixth sense for where I would be. I tried to ignore him as he sidled up to me, tried to make eye contact with some of the guys dancing in my vicinity, tried but failed. Then I heard his hypnotic, mocking voice in my ear, the thumping dance music suddenly fading to background noise in my head as his sour breath assailed me.

"I want you to strip down to your bra and panties. Then I want you to put this around your neck (he handed me a dog collar and leash). Then I want you to get down on all fours and bark like a dog. Do it now!"

Immediately my whole being was stimulated beyond comprehension, I was alive, excited and aroused all at once but equally nervous and scared. I took a deep breath then started to undress......

*

I can tell you exactly the point I realised that I was aroused by being publicly humiliated. It was my last year of school, I was 18 and I was caught smoking behind the bike sheds. Hardly a capital crime but there was a campaign that week to cut teenage smoking so I was singled out in front of my whole form class and lectured and harangued by the Head for at least two minutes. I just stood there meekly and took it. Normally I was a pretty good student and had hardly been in trouble previously. The weirdest thing was that the more that he ranted and embarrassed me (I had to stand at the front of the class before him and take his vehemence), the more I became aroused. I was quite a slow starter when it came to my sexual awakening and had only had the one boyfriend by that point but I knew that the more that he raged at me the wetter I was becoming and by the time he dismissed me back to my seat my knickers were stuck to my pussy and I couldn't help imagining him hitching up my skirt and spanking me there in front of everyone. It was a fantasy that stayed fresh in my mind for the next month.

I guess before I tell you my story any further I should introduce myself. My name is Trish Jones, I am 23 years old, have longish blonde hair (bottled blonde I am afraid!), a pretty good figure (I work out a good bit) and by far my best natural features are my large boobs. Am I sexy? Well it would be conceited of me to say so but so many other folks tell me I am that it's hard to dismiss. But I certainly am not too confident. I am what you might call shy and maybe that played a big part in my eventual love for all things embarrassing and humiliating. I was never too comfortable around boys and certainly found it difficult to meet them when I was out, I always said or did the wrong thing or just made a mess of things. I'm a bit of a computer nerd so I decided to try out internet dating and from there it was headlong into my current life.

At first it was 'normal' dating sites but anyone I met online just did not interest me and the furthest I got were a few e-mails. Once I actually spoke to a guy on the phone but he did nothing for me and I got cold feet and hung up on him then got off the site for good. I left it a few weeks and in one of my kinkier nights (hell, I had been watching a porn movie I had ordered which was all about this domineering guy) I did a search for more risky dating sites and eventually found what looked like a good one. I won't bore you with the full details but after much deliberating I eventually left my details and after a few false starts met the man who would come to so totally mentally and physically dominate me.

At first we just communicated online, but even then there was something about him that deeply affected me. He asked me questions, personal questions and I found myself telling him exactly what he wanted to know. I could have lied but didn't. There was something about him, his manner, his directness that in equal measures scared and excited me and I quickly found myself becoming almost addicted to him. He didn't push to speak or meet me, contenting himself with what we did online.

From the very beginning he insisted that I call him 'Master', he would respond to nothing else. I found that to be a real turn on for me. He made me tell him in detail what turned me on and how I had got into this, again I was amazed when I read it back how brutally honest I had been. So far so easy and we had various e-mails and then phone calls but I won't go into them, instead I'll tell you about the first time I actually met Master. It was quite the eye opener.

He had told me to take a day off work - I was a Primary School Teacher, so that was problematic but I managed to call in sick - and told me to meet him at a park in the nearby town (we lived about an hour apart). He instructed me to wear the highest heels I had and nothing else under a long, buttoned coat. Nothing else! Oh boy, I didn't get much sleep the night before that day! He obviously wanted to test me from the beginning, to see if I was worth bothering about, if I had balked at that then he was wasting his time.

I guess it would have been at this point that any normal, sane girl would have decided this was a risk too far and chickened out. The only problem was I wasn't normal, I was realising that and actually the thrill of what he was suggesting was turning me on to unreached levels. So the next day I called in sick, wore my long, black coat and my highest heels (nearly four inches, and I was really unsteady on them to begin with) and headed out to meet him with giant sized butterflies in my stomach and my pussy in a constant state of arousal.

I had never even seen him but as I sat on the park bench in the brilliant summer sun awaiting him I knew instantly who he was as he strode across the park towards me. Tall, looking distinguished and almost scholarly he stood before me, looking older than his 40 years of age, not lowering himself to sit beside me. He had received plenty of photographs of me online so he knew exactly who I was and intimately, what I looked like. I remember looking up and feeling this enormous sense of belonging and right in the world as I gulped and made to ask him what he wanted to do next. I never got the words out, he held his hand up to interrupt me and spoke clearly and authoritatively. There was no preamble, no awkwardness, no introductions just a short and authoritative command.

"Stand up."

I stood up. Before I had realised it he produced a pair of scissors and with well practised fingers cut each of my eight buttons from my coat. I did nothing. I stood there with my hands in my pockets knowing that if I moved enough the sides of my coat would come apart and expose me to all and sundry. It was lunch time and the park was busy. He slipped the buttons back into my pocket.

"You can sew those back on later. Come on, walk with me."

It felt so exciting and dangerous and I was even more turned on than before but he never once made to look at my body or try to feel it. We walked for nearly a mile down the busy city street, I must have passed hundreds of people; men, women, children and it was such a thrill to know that I had not a stitch below my ruined raincoat. Still, I kept my hands deep in its pocket and held the front tightly in place. Master stopped abruptly outside a newsagent and told me to wait there for a few moments, I did and when he emerged some minutes later he gave me my next instructions while palming a £20 note in my hand.

"Go in there and buy three titles from the top shelf, they are Men Only, CumSluts and Hustler. You get them, you do not ask for any assistance. You pay for them then meet me around the back in the alley."

He did not wait for an answer and disappeared into the small, dark alleyway beside the newsagents. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to enter the shop, I can't deny I was getting more and more excited by this prospect. And then I saw the top shelf. It was a good foot above my head. There was absolutely no way I could reach up to grab a magazine without letting go of at least one side of my coat and overbalancing myself in these heels. It was a deliciously kinky plan and it was difficult not to be slightly in awe of his thinking but I was still left with my embarrassing situation. A glance at the till showed two Asians behind the counter chattering away in a language I could not understand, both were about 20 years old and both had looked up at my entrance to the shop. I stood bemused for a few moments trying to think what I was doing and to muster the courage to do this before finally making my move. The first title was almost at the door and by angling my body away from the till I was able to stretch up and just grab the edge of it and pull it down. Somehow I kept my balance but barely and as I clasped my new purchase in my hand I was acutely aware that my coat had fallen part way open and I was showing the guys at the counter a heap of cleavage, if not more. I covered myself up as best as I could and looked for the second title.

By now I had the full, undivided attention of the guys. No surprise, I mean, how many times did a woman come in here buying top shelf hardcore porn magazines? And a pretty, blonde woman, wearing nothing more than a coat and an embarrassed smile, at that?!

I scanned right along the top shelf and couldn't see either title Master had demanded, it turns out he had deliberately gone in before me to push them behind other magazines. This meant I had to reach up again and sort of shuffle through the porn, desperately looking for one of the two missing magazines. Eventually I spotted one and again managed to prise it out without falling over and denying the amused guys offers to aid me. With only one to go I spotted the corner of the title at the far end of the shelf, right up at the counter. That meant I had to reach up right next to both men and they were blatantly watching the front of my coat as my efforts to keep the sides together gradually failed. Somehow I got it and almost thumped the three magazines on the counter, my boobs nearly spilling onto the counter after them. The guys were agog and struggled to ring the titles up before one of them, with a wicked glint in his eyes looked straight at me and asked.

"Are you sure you want this one lady?"

"Yes."

"Cumsluts? You sure you want Cumsluts?"

Jeez, I was turning beet red with embarrassment and my pussy was absolutely sopping wet from the humiliation and I just nodded and grabbed the magazines, forgot about the change and hurried out. Which was fine other than the fact I chose that moment to stumble on my heels and fall ass over tit and end up sprawled on my back on the floor with my magazines tightly gripped in my right hand and my coat tails sent to opposite sides, revealing my nakedness for an excruciating moment. You can bet I got up quickly and got the hell out of there quicker than I had moved in my entire life!

But the strangest thing was that I was so fucking aroused by it that I truly believe just a touch to my clit would have seen me cum at that point. I hurried around the corner and manoeuvred down the dark alley in my heels until I was around the corner and face to face with a smiling Master. He held out his hand to take the magazines to check I had got what he wanted. Then he asked for his change. I stammered that I had forgotten and he ordered me to return for it. When I didn't move he gave me this ultimatum.

"Either you go back to the shop and ask for the change or you can give me the coat here in this alley and find your way home without it!"

It was no real choice and I had to slink back up the alley and shamefacedly re-enter the shop and ask for my change from the plainly amused shop assistants. As I left one even said loud enough for me to hear.

"What a slut! Did you see the size of her tits!"

And this time it was all in near perfect English.

I returned to Master with his change and he gave me my final task for the day.

"Take your coat off, get down on your knees, open those magazines, find pictures that you find sexy and I want you to wank yourself off while looking at them. When you are done take the magazines home with you - we may use them again in the future."

He said no more and as I slipped out of my coat and sunk to my knees on the grimy cobbles and opened the magazines he slowly began to walk away from me. I was confused but so desperate to cum that I did as I was told and in minutes had the most amazing, body shaking orgasm I had ever experienced in my entire life. But when I recovered there was no sign of Master and I was only too aware of the dingy surroundings I was kneeling in and hurried to put my coat back on and get out of there, being careful not to give anyone else a flash on my road home.

That was it. I was hooked. The whole day had been so exciting to me and I couldn't believe all that I had done but took immense pleasure in reliving it all while playing with myself and a vibrator that evening. Though frustratingly enough Master never came online or called me. Nor did he contact me for the next three days and I was frustrated beyond belief but he had instructed me from the very beginning of our relationship never to contact him.

Finally he called me on the Friday night, a full three days since my adventures and humiliation in the newsagents shop.

"Meet me at East Dock Street at 9 o'clock tomorrow night. Wear as professional an outfit as you have, a trouser suit, something like that, really smart and make sure you are looking as classy as you can. Understand? Good. I'll see you tomorrow night then."

With that he hung up and left me wondering what the hell he had planned. It was all so frustratingly addictive to me, it probably sounds stupid and dangerous to anyone reading this but I loved it. I loved being treated like this by this man. Being made to do what he said without any recourse to argument. And tomorrow? East Dock Street was on the far side of the city and was a pretty run down area, very old fashioned, just up from the Port and the traditional haunt of the city's red light zone!

I had a really smart ash grey trouser suit and come Saturday night at nine I was dressed in it, with a cream silk blouse and my work shoes waiting on Master (my car parked a couple of streets away in a car park). It was warm enough but I felt a shiver as I waited on the street corner and I couldn't help but be nervous and continually glance in all directions but there seemed to be absolutely nobody else around just then. Then from the darkness I heard a clicking of heels and had to stand and try not to stare as what was obviously a prostitute strutted past me. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions but she certainly dressed the part. She was a big black woman, wearing the shortest and most ill fitting of mini-skirt, fishnets and heels and a red top that only barely covered her overflowing breasts. Her walk too was like a caricature of a hooker and she chewed furiously on a piece of gum as she passed me, shooting me a look that didn't seem to bode well for me. But she slowly kept on moving and I was more than glad when a taxi turned into the street and stopped beside me.

The back window rolled down and the Master looked out at me and motioned for me to get in. I gave the foreign driver a quick glance but evidently he had been paid well to just drive and not ask questions. Before I had even settled in the back seat Master demanded the driver stop alongside the black whore who had just walked passed me. All it took was a waft of a fan of cash from Master to get the prostitute to join us in the back seat (with me squeezed uncomfortably in the between them - she was a big woman) and he gave the driver instructions to take us to a nearby hotel. I say hotel but really the place was a fleapit, a real dive and not the kind of place I was used to frequenting at all.

Master booked a room for the night and the guy on the desk gave me and the hooker the most unsavoury smile you could imagine and we went up a couple of floors to our room. I was already soaking wet wondering what new depravity I was going to experience. We ascended in oppressive silence and nothing was said until we were in the room.

"Trish go into the bathroom while I speak to Monica."

I went in and it was only until I was in there and staring at my reflection that I wondered how he had known her name was Monica. I didn't get long to ponder this though as seconds later he squeezed into the small bathroom beside me and addressed me.

"You did well the other day. I know you enjoyed it, well you will enjoy this too. When you are ready you will come out of here and into the bedroom and you will do whatever that dirty, nasty whore tells you to do. Everything! To the exact letter, without question. I will be there too but only as a watcher, I will not intervene in any way and if you refuse to obey her then this thing is over between us and you don't want that, do you?"

Before I could answer his hand found my crotch and squeezed my pussy through my trousers, I could only sigh in excitement at him.

"I thought not. Remember do exactly what you are told. Do not let me down. Oh, and I'll be recording it all on this."

He held up a small handheld video camera and left before I could say anything. I stood in the dank, dingy bathroom for a few more moments, fighting the urge to finger myself and took a deep breath and opened the door into the bedroom. Master was as good as his word and standing with his back to the room door holding the camera and videoing my entrance. I tried not to stare at him and to be honest that was made easier by the sight on the bed. The prostitute had taken off all her clothes except her ripped fishnet tights and was curling her finger gesturing towards me. I couldn't take my eyes off her, she was overweight and had the biggest, flabbiest boobs I had ever seen and a jungle of dark pubic hair around her crotch. I guess I stared too long.

"You like what you see Miss White rich bitch? Well don't you worry none, you are going to get a much closer inspection before long, believe me! Now you get out of those rich bitch clothes you are wearing, I want to see what your slutty body look like!"

She spoke in a really awful accent, like a crack head just off the boat and she might easily have been high or drunk but it didn't really matter as I was already unbuttoning my jacket.

"Yeah that's right! Let's see your skanky ass, 'ho! You're my bitch tonight! You hear me! Tell me what you are!"

"I am your bitch."

So I stood there and undressed for this intoxicated prostitute and proclaimed that I was her bitch. And you know what? It turned me on so much, I was so wet and aroused that I could have cum there and then! All at once I was naked, my good clothes cast down on the dirty floor. Monica, the fat, black prostitute got up off the bed to stand by me and told me to get down on my knees before her, I did and was trembling with excitement as I stopped my face dead level with her hairy pussy. Spoken loud for the cameras.

"You know I've had hundreds of men's cocks in my hole bitch an' me is reckoning it needs a damn good clean out!. Why don't you beg me to clean my pussy out?"

Oh God I was so turned on, this was so kinky and perverted, so dirty and nasty, Master had chosen a pretty horrible specimen for me no doubt to increase my humiliation and now here I was, on camera no less, about to beg to lick her used pussy out. I almost fainted with arousal.

"Please can I clean your pussy Monica."

I was so polite, so well spoken. Monica nearly collapsed with laughter but she held it together to give her permission and I pressed me head forward into her jungle of wiry pubic hair and used my tongue to probe for her pussy lips.

I have never parachuted (I'm terrified of heights for one thing) but I can only imagine the adrenaline rush you get from something like that or an extreme sport was similar to what I was feeling doing this. The shame and embarrassment would be huge, I mean I was a well respected member of my community, a teacher and I was eating out a fat, disgusting, twenty dollar whore. My own pussy was absolutely soaking, I could feel my thighs were slick. Unfortunately Monica's was not so wet and my tongue had to fight through the tangle of hair to get to her and begin licking at her. I could have faked it but I didn't want that, I wanted to do everything Master set out for me to do and relish the feeling I got from doing it.