My Slave Life - The Seven Humiliations

by Kristin Kailey

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© Copyright 2021 - Kristin Kailey - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; true; slave; hum; buttplug; public; collar; exhib; urine; cons; XX

The Seven Humiliations

This is the true actual story of seven humiliating tasks which were given to me by my now ex-boyfriend while he was out of town.

Before we go into that though, let's address a few questions about me to give a little context. I've always been attracted to confident guys. Not all of them were into bdsm mind you, but when I say confident I really mean that there's a certain dominance about them. For you guys out there heed my words when I tell you that confidence is like catnip to girls like me. I love when a guy doesn't ask me what I want because he took the time to get to know me, therefore he doesn't have to ask. He already knows what I want.

I've had a good list of boyfriends since my first and yeah yeah that makes me a whore, go fuck yourself. Anyway, where were we? Boyfriends, that's right! So in any case, as I've gone from one relationship to the next I started to figure out that being dominant by itself wasn't enough, the guy had to enjoy bdsm and not only that but he had to have a willingness to explore my kinks just as I was open minded to trying his.

I don't have enough imagination to invent a whole new person so the way I describe myself in my stories is pretty much me. A short and scrawny half breed with boobs like mosquito bites. Every girl who looks in the mirror sees imperfection and areas that she's unhappy with. In my case, you guessed it; it's the two lumps of fat that sit on my chest just under my nipples. I've had just as many friends tell me that I should get a boob job if it's what I really want as have told me that I'm just fine the way I am and they love small chested girls. I'm sure you would have preferred to hear that I have a huge set of milk filled tits hanging off my chest, which would no doubt be great for the fantasies I write, but as a runner it's a lot easier to sprint around without having a couple of big jiggling udders on my torso flopping around everywhere.

Anyway, getting back to the experience at hand. About two boyfriends ago I was dating a guy named Henrik who went by the name Henry except for those times when we were engaged in a little fetish fun in which case he was to be addressed as Master. I should throw in a disclaimer that my current boyfriend, and regular Master, has heard this story so I'm not getting myself into any trouble here. Love ya babe!

I was dating Henry back in the joyous days before the onset of coronavirus when people did radical things like travel to other places. Weird right? Henry went on a business trip for a couple weeks and it was agony. I mean I seriously would have taken a set of saw tooth nipple clamps on my pink buds over being separated, but it had to happen. Indeed the first week he was gone was torture. Sure, we talked every night, did some phone sex in which we'd masturbate together and engaged in a little sexting, but it wasn't the same. We were on the phone one night with a week left before his return and just before hanging up he said to me "I have something I want for you to do tomorrow."

Day One: The Princess Plug

I was thinking he was going to ask me to pick up his dry cleaning or something but no. "I want for you to wear your anal plug all day,” he said. As it happened I had just gotten a nice medium sized princess plug with a pink jeweled cap a couple months prior. You've seen them I'm sure, they're heavy, made of metal; usually have a jeweled cap and a long thin neck so your anus doesn't get stretched out enabling you to be able to wear it for longer periods.

"What about when I go out shopping?" I asked.

"Wear your plug."

"What about when I go to the gym or for a run?"

"Wear your plug."

In other words, the plug goes in me in the morning and stays in until it's time for bed with removal only for that most necessary of acts that I won't get into because discussions of poop are a hard limit for me and will not be referred to again. Pursuant to my instruction when I woke up the next morning the second thing I did (the first was to ensure that I was sufficiently cleaned out, but that's a subject we dare not go into pursuant to reasons given in the previous sentence) was to lube up my plug and slowly work it inside my ass. At first I could really feel it inside me and the pressure made me a little uncomfortable, but over time I started to get used to it except when I sat down and it really pushed inside me.

I decided to forgo a run in favor of using the elliptical machine at the gym. For some reason I thought that wouldn't be as problematic but I'm pretty sure I was wrong. All I could think about the entire time was the plug inside me and with each stride I was very well aware of the invader shifting around in my rectum. I found that clenching my ass tightly helped a lot though and probably contributed to an even firmer looking rear. I did take the plug out when I took a shower after my exercise but fear not! For before getting dressed I lubed it up and in no time it was back inside my tight little puckered anus where it belonged.

The rest of my day was pretty mundane, sorry. I ran a few errands, did a little work and spent a little time on my computer at home viewing illicit material. I know, you're shocked to learn that I'm that kind of girl. I admit I've always liked the way it felt to masturbate with my ass clenching a plug that's buried deep inside me. The thing is, as I was walking around outside no one knew I had this big metal thing deep in my ass. Only I knew but knowing that, feeling it and being around people while having that experience was a wonderful sensation.

Day Two: The Collar

I told Henry all about my day which excited him needless to say. I'm not sure which part he liked better, trying to imagine me out in public with my ass plugged or the fact that I was willing to do it simply because he told me to. They say that power is the ultimate aphrodisiac and when it came to our relationship, he definitely had the power.

Henry liked it so much as a matter of fact that he decided to give me another task. This time I was to go to a pet store and try on some of the dog collars. That wasn't enough though; part of my task was to find a male employee for help in the matter. There would be no hiding in the back of the store while no one was looking!

I went to the local pet store and began to peruse the selection of collars. Fun fact, my neck size is the same as that of a small to medium sized dog, so lots of choices! Naturally I gravitated to a lovely black collar with little silver studs on it. It reminded me of something a dominant, not one that I dated mind you, told me, which was that you don't need a lot of expensive equipment to enjoy bdsm, you just need a pet store and a good hardware store.

I buckled the collar into place and went searching for the college age guy I had seen earlier who was stocking bags of dog food near the back. "Excuse me,” I said to get his attention. He turned around and saw me and while he tried to play it calm and cool, I could feel him staring at me and my cheeks began to burn. I pointed to my neck and said "I really like this collar but do you have a mirror so I can see what it looks like on me?"

"You know that's a collar for a dog right?"

"I know but I really like it."

"This is a pet store, we don't really have mirrors. If you want I can see if we have something up front."

I shook my head and said "you don't have to; I think I'll just keep looking."

I expected him to go back to stacking the dog food but he didn't, he just kind of kept staring at me until I walked back to the collar area where I removed my dog collar and put it back. Big exhale, mission accomplished, can I go now?

Day Three: The Slut

When I go out at night I admit I like to show myself off and dress sexy. But for our next task my outfit had to be something slutty and revealing during the day. Not so much that I would get arrested, mind you, but enough to turn some heads and make me feel all those eyes on my little body. Henry helped me figure out what to wear because I really wanted to do it right and I was concerned that I might disappoint him with my selection. I've found that men and women sometimes have very different ideas about what is slutty enough.

We did an online video chat and I pulled out some choices which he approved. The next day for my trip to the gym I wore only a sports bra that left my midriff exposed and a pair of super skinny lycra shorts that hugged and barely covered my ass. After my shower the real fun began. I put on my shiny black latex skirt with a white cami (yes I really do have that outfit, no wonder it made its way into one of my stories) and a pair of stripper heels that I rarely wear because they're just so impractical, super hard to walk in and they leave my feet an aching mess after an hour. Still beauty is more important than comfort so on my little feet they went! Naturally no bra or panties were permitted on this adventure, which meant of course that my nipples were totally visible as they rubbed against my top, just the way Henry liked it.

There's a time and a place for everything and if I dressed like this to go out to a nightclub I'd be fine with it. It's appropriate if that makes any sense. But to dress like this to go to the grocery and run errands is a little different. It's sort of the same story about how I can wear a bikini to the pool or beach, but a bra and panties which actually provide more coverage would be a no go in public. Weird huh?

I could definitely feel people looking at my body. My slender legs were on display, my calf muscles accentuated thanks to my stripper heels and my nipples jutted out so much they looked like they could take an eye out. I remember hobbling down the aisles of the grocery store, holding on to the cart with each step I took. Guys would just stare at my ass as I passed and I heard a few unflattering comments from some of the older ladies regarding my appearance. Let's just say they were certain I was a prostitute and given the way I was dressed, it was an understandable conclusion.

As much as I loved the attention I was getting and how sexy I felt, there was definitely a tingle of humiliation that fluttered around my tummy as I carried out this task. And that was the point.

Day Four: Spread 'Em

By this point I was starting to expect to be given a task every day. It was making our time apart a little more fun and at the end of our conversation I was a little disappointed that he didn't come up with something for me. I don't know that he gave this one a lot of thought as I believe he came up with it at the spur of the moment. We were about to hang up and I said "what about my task for tomorrow?"

To which he replied "Oh right, you still want to do that?" Um, hell yeah! So he took a moment and decided that I should wear a short skirt with no panties and spread my legs for a while to show myself off.

Now I'm a big believer in not forcing my fetishes on other people, especially vanilla civilians who are just going about their day. Nevertheless, orders must be followed so what choice did I really have? I wore a cute black cotton skirt and ran some errands (seems like I do that a lot, doesn't it?) I kept looking out for an opportunity to fulfill my task in a way that wouldn't get me arrested. I could sit on a bus bench and do it. Too obvious and I don't take the bus. This went on for a while with me seeing possible places to sit and spread and rejecting those choices for one reason or another.

Well at this point I was getting hungry and when you're hungry there's only one thing you can do; get a burrito, which I did. The restaurant had a few tables and chairs, time to enjoy my lunch. I decided that this was the opportunity I needed so as I sat, I spread my legs nice and wide, I mean almost as far as they would go.

This gets us to the point of this exercise. I have no idea whether or not anyone saw it. If they did, then they were being pretty discreet about their stolen glances between my legs. But the point wasn't about what other people saw, it was about what I felt, which was complete exposure. It didn't matter if I knew that someone was enjoying the view of my cute little pussy, it was about the fact that I was aware that I was on display. I was wide open and as such my cheeks burned and my skin tingled. Maybe that's why I'm a little bit of an exhibitionist.

Day Five: Be Respectful

Henry started giving more consideration to my tasks and for this next escapade politeness was key. Of course I'm always a charming and courteous girl when I want to be, but this was something different and subtle. Part of the D/s dynamic that I really enjoy is protocol. I love the whole aspect of having to address your superiors in a certain way, so you can imagine how excited I was when my task was for me to address everyone I saw as Sir or Ma'am. I couldn't call them by their names or leave out the title altogether. That simply wouldn't do. I had to work it into nearly every sentence if I could.

What I really liked about this task was that it was understated enough that no one would really catch on, yet every time I did it, I had strong tingling feelings inside me because I knew what it meant. At the gas station it was "Thank you Sir." At the vegetable stand it was "do you have any more eggplant Ma'am?"

My whole day went like that, Sir this, Ma'am that. I think they just thought that I was simply a really super polite girl. Little did they know how turned on I got every time the words escaped my lips and there were times when I honestly felt like I was a submissive slave girl living in one of my fantasy worlds in which that kind of thing could be done in the open.

Day Six: Have an Accident

For this one my instructions were fairly specific. I was to go to a grocery store, have an accident in an obvious place and then I had to find a male employee to tell them about it. You get what I mean when I say accident right? I wanted to wear dark pants to lessen my embarrassment but Henry wasn't having it. He desired me in a skirt and no panties but I balked at that. There was a line and I refused to cross it. Remember my policy about not forcing my fetishes on the civilians?

"There is no way that I'm going to stand in the middle of an aisle at the store and just let pee spray out of me freely,” I told him.

We ended up settling on light colored jeans. It had to look like an accident after all. I went to the grocery and I got about halfway down the biscuit aisle to get this party started. I'd had a lot of water beforehand and kept from peeing before as a way to ensure that I could go easily when the time came and that there would be enough pee coming out to satisfy Henry. A few drops would not have pleased the man at all.

There was no such animal as waiting for the aisle to be clear either. There were constantly people going up and down and while it wasn't one of the busier aisles in the store, privacy was not going to be an option. I stared at a box of biscuits while thinking intently about waterfalls, rivers, showers, dripping faucets and swimming pools.

At last the spray started. I could feel the warmth gather between my thighs, dripping down my legs to my sandals where my small feet got soaked before my urine formed a small clear puddle with yellowish tint on the floor. I looked down and my jeans had a huge dark spot right where you would expect.

My skin was burning with humiliation but it was about to get worse. In keeping with my instructions I walked around the store trying to find a male employee. Female restocking cheese, nope. Woman helping customers up front, nope. Girl at the deli counter, nope. What the fuck? Doesn't this stupid store have any guys working?

Finally I found a guy stocking fruit in the vegetable area. "Excuse me,” I said as I bit my lip and twirled a strand of my dark hair around my finger. "I had a little accident on aisle three, I think someone should probably clean it up and do you have a bathroom I can use?" My skin felt like it was on fire and my brain was fogging up from the powerful humiliation of it all.

He looked at the dark spot on my jeans and knew what I had done.

He was sympathetic though and said "No worries, we'll get it taken care of and the bathroom is out and to the left."

Definitely one of the more intense sensations I've had in terms of public humiliation, but hey, accidents happen to the best of us, right?

Day Seven: Body Writing

I've always loved body writing. More times than I can remember I've taken a Sharpie marker and written some pretty nasty and degrading things on the soles of my feet, my small boobs, my pubic mound and other spots that could be well hidden. Even my current boyfriend, (I mean Master, please spank me Sir, I've been naughty), who is a reasonably decent artist enjoys drawing cartoons on my back and ass on occasion.

This task was pretty much more of the same but with a couple of twists. The first issue was the quantity of the writing. It wasn't just a couple things here and there; I was to really put a lot of stuff out on my skin. So Henry and I went through a list of different things that I was to write on myself and where it was all supposed to go.

The next morning I woke up and decided not to do the writing right away. I had to exercise (yes I'm a little gym rat, so what?) I knew I'd be taking a shower right after and I didn't want to ruin my hard work so early in the day. As such after I showered and the lotion that I coat my little body with had some time to sink into my skin, it was time to get to work.

I stood naked in front of the mirror with a handful of Sharpie markers in a variety of colors ranging from black all the way to, well black, though there was a red thrown in for good measure. First stop: my firm boobies. I used the red marker to draw concentric circles around my little pink nipples to make them look like targets; gotta keep it fun right? Then I used the black Sharpie to write "suck my nipples" on my left tit and "drink my milk" on the right. For the record no, I was not lactating, but I do kind of have a fantasy about being made to produce milk as you've probably seen from my stories.

On my tummy I made my best attempt at drawing a big cock and balls with cum spewing out of the tip. I'm no artist so the bar was pretty low, but in my defense, it did end up looking kind of like a cock and balls so we have lift off! On my pubic mound I wrote "owned cunt" and below that it read "insert cock here" with an arrow pointing at my pussy. I thought that one was particularly funny given how reluctant some men are to ask for directions when they get lost.

On my upper thighs I wrote "cumslut" on one leg and "fuck my holes" on the other. On the bottoms of my feet I wrote "cocksleeve" on my left foot and "fuckdoll" on the right. I filled in the gaps with more degrading words, "piss whore,” "cum drinker,” "cock sucking toy,” "punish my tits" and so on until I was pretty well covered.

Now I know what you're thinking. "How do you remember what you wrote and where you wrote it?" Great question! The answer is that both to excite my boyfriend /Master and for him to see how it came out and that I had indeed obeyed the instructions, I took a couple photos and sent them to him. Before you ask, no I'm not going to share them with you, that was a one hundred percent private thing that will stay private and no one else gets to see them, except my current boyfriend (love ya babe!)

I got dressed, nothing too sexy, just jeans, a tank and a crop leather jacket and went out. Now you have to remember, not unlike the anal plug, no one could really see what I had written all over me. This was a secret for me alone. Yet running my errands with the knowledge that I was covered in so many degrading things had my skin tingling and every time I thought of the content that coated my skin, my pussy was juicing.

There was one close call in which I went to pay for some items at the chemist and as I was handing over the money, my sleeve slid up a bit exposing the word "bitch" which was written along my forearm. The full sentence by the way was "bitch in heat.” I'm not sure if the cashier saw it or not, but just knowing that she might have was enough to make me burn with embarrassment.

The thing that kept running through my mind the whole time was "what if I get hit by a car and the paramedics have to remove part of my clothing and they see all of this?"

The next day Henry came back and that was the end of my seven days of humiliation. I've had a lot of other fun escapades in my real life so I'm thinking that if I get good feedback and interest from what I've written here, maybe I'll share some more stories from my real life bdsm journey, which I know is a lot less intense than my fantasies but hey, what can you do right?


(If you liked this story, check out some of my other ones. Also, respectful comments and thoughts are always welcome and I love interacting with my readers and I’m a bit of a praise whore so I love hearing from you. You can check out my bdsm artwork and short stories at

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