Chapter 2: Humiliating Assay
Today I had been promised the most humiliating experience yet and I was worried as usual. I was unable to imagine having to bear more shame than I've already been forced to shoulder and that innocence was difficult to surrender. Early in our relationship my Mistress had taken to humiliating me and she was brazen in her expectations. In all, she has been instrumental in developing my tolerance to shame in ever heavier doses, but I still fought at the ultimate surrender. I fought something I didn't even understand and the fight I still harbored was the target of my Mistresses. She was very creative when it came to the gently cruel art of degradation and was bringing me on slowly. She promised to train me well and one day take me to a big party, where I would be laughed at the entire night and learn what humiliation meant.
My Mistress held part of today's outfit in her hand. It was a tiny outfit, if an outfit at all and I looked at the crumpled wad with my head cocked. Mistress planned to show me off and there was little I could do to the contrary. I could find no reason to disobey her, or even less to hesitate. She held the ball of baby-pink material and such in her one hand for me to see and smiled quite wickedly. She'd mentioned the difficulty of matching the colors in an earlier e-mail conversation and I looked at the pink and wondered why? I went through another round of 'happy to see you' routines that would have earned me a spanking, if it weren't for the fact she was in a hurry. She placed the bag down by her chair as I barked merrily and bounced around half-heartedly. When I heard her fingers snap I looked up to them and found them pointed to my cinder-block. I scampered off to my pedestal.
I crawled to the block of cold cement and climbed up onto it, centering myself on the pink doily, while watching myself in the giant mirror. I had to place my hands and knees close together while on this block and that caused my back to arch in a most provocative way. I always felt very rude like this, because of the forced posture, but I was also very excited. Mistress placed some small items on my back and I hoped they didn't roll off. I became extra still because of them, as she spread them about before selecting an item that turned out to be a pair of panties. I could see our reflections in the mirror and watched her carefully. She too saw our reflections and looked at me with a smile. I gasped when I saw her left hand slip under my belly and take my boner. It was a gentle but firm grip and caused a long strand of saliva to slip from the corner of my mouth. It raced a freshly oozed strand of lubrication seeping from my cock's hole and together they swung to the pink doily in a dead heat. Soon she was sloshing my boner into a soggy froth and bringing me to faint. I teetered in her grasp, swayed uneasily and allowed her to hold me in position. I couldn't move and couldn't stop, I was hot and sweat laden, cold and shivering. I saw our reflections as a blur. It was her right hand that came to my rescue. It took me by the balls about the same time her left hand released my boner. She took both of them at once and hoisted me into the air as one would an animal carcass. She pulled my behind up until I was forced to bring my hands and knees closer together, drop my head to the block and come back to reality. When I saw her again she nodded and let me go so I could straighten up.