A New Short Story | Humiliate Her

Magenta pulled at the ropes binding her wrists together. Rough fiber pinched at her skin and rubbed it raw.

She sucked back the running in her nose—from crying as Malcolm tied her up and the other men leered at her. But they left her in the bedroom. Locked her in, not that she could go far with the rope around her ankles. Magenta found a corner between the bedside table and the wall, toes wiggling in the squares of sunlight.

After long stretches of silence and abrupt bursts of boisterous cheers. Her nerves twitched her muscles, pulling a shriek from her when her husband kicked the door open. The looks on the line of men behind him scared her.

She’d humiliated him without meaning to, but she had nonetheless. And part of her apology was her own taste of humiliation. Magenta had agreed to this, but did she know what she’d been getting into?

They advanced slowly as she sobbed. The fear clinging to her with the crawling anticipation of pain.

Half a dozen sets of hands grabbed and lifted her from the floor, pulling at her clothes as they tossed her on the bed.

Malcolm gave a slow, methodical speech about what she’d done to him—emasculated him. He tore open her leggings at the crotch, making her hips jerk off the bed. His fingers rubbed against her panties.

Magenta wriggled back, useless. The other men were too close. Leering.

You like it.

He ripped her shift off her, tearing it nearly in two, and grabbed and squeezed her breasts. Squirming under his grasp, she tried to pull her arms around herself but was quickly grabbed by two other men, pinning her hands above her head.

Legs kicking, she wished she’d never agreed to this.

More hands halted her kicks, untied her ankles, and spread her thighs wide for Malcolm. Magenta’s whimper made her husband grin down at her. His fingers probed the tear in her leggings, pressing her panties in deeper and rubbing her core until her hips shifted without her consent. A taste of pleasure rolled through her before he crawled up her body, straddling her waist and chest.

The others released her, and her arms were pinned between his knees. The weight of him had her mouth parted, panting.

His thumb pressed along her lower lip, dipping in to spread salt over her tongue. 

“That’s a good girl. No teeth.”

Malcolm’s other hand yanked at his jeans, spreading his zipper and freeing his hard cock. It bobbed above her, and his thumb pushed deeper into her mouth to the back of her tongue, making her gag, which only made him grin wider.

“Better get used to that. I’m a lot bigger than my thumb.” Withdrawing the digit, he pressed her mouth open, leaned forward, and angled the head of his cock between her lips.

Magenta’s tongue darted out to taste him and retreated.

“Oh don’t be shy now. You’ve been flapping that tongue enough that I know how well you can use it.”

Thrusting into her mouth, Malcolm’s hand twisted in the back of her hair to hold her in place. The head of his cock tapped the back of her throat, gagging her, but her struggle only provoked him to push deeper.

“Learn how to swallow, babe. Breathe between the thrusts.” And they grew harder and more accentuated.

Fighting for air, her fingers dug into his butt in vain attempts of slowing him down.

Panicking reflexes made it hard to adjust, but she found a rhythm and blinked back the tears to look up at him. Malcolm grunted and groaned as her tongue cupped his shaft, swallowing his head to keep from choking.

His moans grew as his men captured her knees again, spreading them wide enough that her panties dig against her core. An errant thumb caressed the tight fabric, making her hips jerk. The men held her tighter, and the thumb pressed harder, splaying Magenta’s folds. Another thumb caught her hooded clit, jolting a soft cry around her husband’s cock.

Malcolm taunted her with his smile. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll work you up good. Going to make you stretchy and pliable. You’ll be at this a while after all.”

A tug of her panties had finger tips probing her, rubbing her entrance until wet spread from her center.

Magenta’s whimpers and muffled moans urged her husband on before he withdrew his cock, slimy with her spit.

The other hands retreated, and he settled himself between her thighs again. His blunt fingers dug under the straps of her panties and tore them aside to bare her folds.

Magenta gulped at the air, gasping as Malcolm’s mouth closed around her left nipple, his grip squeezing and pulling at her right. The sharp pangs of pleasure and pain had her wiggling and whining, ready to push him away.

Hands descended on her again, holding her down as he fondled her. 

Gloating, he lifted over her as she squirmed, and he took little pause to line himself up before he worked his way inside of her. Malcolm jolted against the ends of her, and everyone grinned at her cry.

There were so many of them. Watching her. Holding her down. Waiting their turn.

Read the rest of Magenta’s story here.

Magenta humiliated her husband in front of his co-workers and friends. She hadn’t done it on purpose.

Agreed to be humiliated in return, Magenta waits, hands and feet tied together, as her husband gathers more men than she’s ever been with to their bedroom for the show.

Will she survive entertaining so many men? More importantly, how long can she hide how much she enjoys being defiled this way?

Dive into this short, dark erotica story now.

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