Public humiliation – a perfidious plan perfectly implemented
Tied up and humiliated, spat on and slapped
Public humiliation? With the best will in the world, I could never have imagined this. But I’m a pig. A poor one. “What could possibly happen to me?”, I asked myself again and again for years, and insisted on my happiness, which had previously been my own. At least until today.
Actually, I’m fine. I work at the management level of a medium-sized industrial company and earn good money. I am allowed to use my company car, a 5 series BMW, for private purposes and my boss is one of my best friends. But something’s missing. Something’s bothering me. For a long time I have been attracted to dominant women, but I never perceived this as an inclination or preference. Especially not as sexual.
Of course, like any man in his prime around 40, I desire young women. Crunchy, with small but firm tits and a beautiful apple butt. Only none of these young chickens could give me what I really crave. Public humiliation. Yeah, well, I admit it to myself. It turns me on when I’m humiliated. Not in a quiet chamber, not in the SM club, but as real public humiliation. With spectators and people laughing at me.
The department store at Stachus was the meeting place
After I searched the internet for fetish contacts, I got stuck with a woman who quickly aroused my interest. Blonde, mid-30s and beautiful brown eyes. Sonja. We exchanged some messages on www.fetischkontakte.fun and arranged a date. My dear Herr Gesangsverein, I was probably last so nervous as a teenager in puberty! That woman turned me on. In our conversations she told me that she likes to tie up men. With handcuffs, ropes, cable ties, adhesive tape and whatever else a well-assorted DIY store can provide.
Before our first meeting, I asked them to bring me to my first public humiliation. Sonja liked the idea. She ties men up not for financial reasons, but because she likes to. Anyway, she ordered me to the big department store at Stachus, where I was supposed to wait for her on the first floor by the escalator. As identification mark I should put on a woollen hat from the men’s department. As I had been instructed, I stood there and watched the women coming up. And then she came, Sonja. She was wearing a black belly top. She looked – excuse me – awesome. The top was laced up and I could see her shoulders. But before I could see any more of her, she snapped her finger in front of my face and ordered me to come along.
She walked straight to a changing room, slipped into it and pointed me to follow her. She pulled the curtain, my heart was pounding up to my neck and probably even higher. You could probably still hear the beating of my pump outside. I had to kneel on the ground, my back to her. My shirt she cut with scissors and it was over the wall into another dressing room. Then she tied my hands behind my head and pulled the cap over my eyes. “It’ll be embarrassing enough,” was her succinct comment on that. Of course I had my thoughts on this subject. Would anyone recognize me? Would people laugh at me out loud or would the security just throw us out without further ado? After all, people in Bavaria are sometimes very conservative, especially when it comes to fetishes and other “abnormalities”.
The public humiliation should be perfect and outshine everything
“Sit your pale ass down!” she instructed me and I obeyed. That wasn’t a public humiliation yet, I thought to myself. But probably in the knowledge that it should still follow and not be long in coming. The click of a camera told me she was taking pictures of me. I flinched and startled. “Polaroid,” she hissed. “I will display the photos at the cash desks here in the department store later – with your phone number on the back. As a public humiliation.” I swallowed briefly, but I could live with that. Now I was supposed to get up, but I couldn’t. My hands were so tied together that I could not use them to support or prop myself up. She kicked my shin, was obviously impatient.
I was so humiliated, so ashamed
When I managed to get up, she pushed me out of the locker room. With my upper body naked, cap over my eyes and tied up, I stood there, could hardly see anything, only recognize contours. “I don’t want to be seen with you, you rag”, she snarled at me gruffly. I sensed that the real public humiliation was about to follow. Alone and almost blind I stumbled now through the corridors of the department store, my clothes Sonja had thrown behind my shirt in the changing room. And I literally stumbled. Everywhere I walked against, against stands with clothes, against shoe racks and other superstructures.
I could hear people laughing around me. I was ashamed and didn’t know where to go. I heard a woman – a bit older according to her voice – say that someone should call the police because of this perverted man. She meant me! Pervert! But that’s exactly how I felt at that moment when suddenly someone grabbed me by the wrist. “Please come with me,” a dark male voice replied to me.
Security? Oh no, please don’t!
Damn it, security! Or the store detective? Never mind. Somebody got me. “Sonja?” I shouted. “Sonja?” No answer. She had ditched me. The man with the dark voice became angry, energetically he grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me away. This public humiliation gnawed at me, I did not know what was going to happen now. Sonja had really left and had apparently left. “We’ll call the police in a minute. Please come to the office,” said the man and took me with him. On the way there I was spat on by someone and even got a back pipe, but it had been washed.
Waiting for the police
When we arrived at the office, the man took my cap off – and who was standing in front of me? Sonja! I breathed again, it really took a load off my mind. I’m sure the situation would clear up by now. I explained to the man why I was half-naked in the department store, but he just shook his head. “Sonja, please say something about it”, I almost begged my lady. “Please tell me this was just a game.” Sonja turned up her nose, turned around and left. On leaving I heard her say that a pervert like me should be locked up. I couldn’t believe it, once again she abandoned me!
“The police will be here in ten minutes. I don’t need to tie you up anymore,” grinned the man with the narrow mustache in the mouse-grey suit. Well, he seemed to think he was important. This public humiliation drove the blush of shame into my face, I was infinitely embarrassed. And now I’m supposed to be led away by a security guard. I was allowed to sit down on a chair and together we waited for the orderlies. Time crept at a snail’s pace, just wouldn’t go by.
A public humiliation par excellence
There was a knock at the office door and they were about to come for me. “That’ll be the police,” remarked the department store clerk, rose and opened a moment later. I sighed, stood up and was ready to submit to my fate. When the door opened, I saw Sonja grinning broadly and looking at the man. Both laughed out loud, clapped their hands and the man threw my shirt, my trousers and my shoes in front of my feet. “Here, put this on. And then get out of here.” Shocked by this public humiliation, I crawled away like a beaten dog, not knowing at that moment how much I would enjoy my humiliation later.
Today I can say that I am happy to have taken this first step on my new path. I regularly meet with women with an interest in fetish for public humiliation. My next date will take me to the shopping street of a larger city in three weeks. Already now I am imagining in all colours how the lady will present me there…