A few years ago I had a girlfriend who was also my Mistress.
When we were apart I would often get text messages from her saying “MSN now, bitch!”. This meant I had to immediately go on MSN chat, start up my webcam for her, strip naked, get hard, and perform whatever humiliating tasks she ordered. I loved it.
Broken mic? No biggy!
The last night this happened I was a bit surprised that her mic wasn’t on, but she said it was broken and I thought nothing more of it. Her cam was on and I could see her, which was what mattered.
She had me do all the usual things: stripping, wanking while making “pornstar” groans and poses, sticking large dildos up my arse, sucking dildos, dildo AtM, displaying my opened arsehole, and even peeing into a beer glass and drinking some of it. My face was visible most of the time. Why should I hide it from my gf/Mistress?
What’s with all the laughter?
Just after I had jizzed for the second time, her mic suddenly started up. I heard her saying “Good boy, good boy,” to me, but I could also hear lots of loud, almost hysterical, female laughter. Terror gripped me. Mistress then pointed her cam to her right.
Four of her best friends, including one we both worked with, were sitting around a small table, creased up with laughter. They were making “small dick” hand gestures and two were holding up their mobiles displaying pics they’d taken of my performance. They couldn’t stop laughing at me.
A ritual of total humiliation
I was overcome with embarrassment, shame and horror. I also felt betrayed – I had socialised with all four of these young women and always thought they liked and respected me. How could they have willingly participated in this ritual of total humiliation?
Even worse, Mistress then announced she had recorded the whole thing and would later share edited “highlights” with all four. She even said that some of it might be posted online if I complained or mentioned it to anyone (this was before the UK had “revenge porn” laws, by the way).
She also told me she owned me and I had no rights, and if she wanted to show me off to her friends that was her business and I had no right to object because I was “subhuman and worthless”.
Shattered pride and eventual breakup
Pathetically, I stayed with her for a few more weeks. I had no pride, I loved her, and the sex was great. Then she finally realised that, contrary to her assumptions, I had very little money. That was the end of it. She moved to London a few months later and I never saw her again.
I still see the girl we both worked with. Usually she avoids making eye contact and just smirks as we pass in the corridor. But one time she called back to me as she opened the door into her office.
“No need to be embarrassed. You were fantastic. It was a great performance. I still watch the video sometimes,” she paused, “when I need a good laugh”, and then closed the door behind her.