So first we need to decode it ... (The humiliation profile we need to look at to do this is here by the way.)
Age: 19. Name: Hopefullyable, Bi
Who you've fantasised about humiliating you?
At what age did you have your first humiliation experience or realise that humiliation made you wet?: 14
1. Being Controlled / Owned
2. Being put on display
3. Being treated as a sex object
4. Being verbally degraded
5. Being physically hurt
6. Being disciplined
7. Being treated as unimportant
8. Having your orgasm controlled
9. Being shamed about your body
10. Physical Constraints as a means of humiliation
11. Making you do demeaning and disgusting things
12. Controlling your other relationships
15. Your position in your relationship
16. Generic Humiliation
Thanks for this, Hope, you filthy little slut. You'd probably like a story to keep your denied cunt nice and drippy, wouldn't you, my dear? Here we go, then.
You lie curled up in your dog basket under a dirty thin blanket until you hear Master and Mistress arise for the morning. Then you get up and set the table for the two of them and make a fresh pot of coffee. You're naked, so you have to be careful not to splash yourself when you make the coffee. That's trickier than you might otherwise think when your hands and ankles are shackled together, and both of which are connected to a loop of chain around your waist, but practise makes perfect.
"Morning, slut," Mistress greets you as she enters the kitchen, "sleep well?"
"Yes, Mistress," you reply dutifully.
Mistress looks you up and down disdainfully. "Get your dog bowl, slut, time for your breakies."
"Shall I crawl on all fours, Mistress, like a dirty little bitch dog?"
A brief smile flits across Mistress's face. "Of course, as ever."
You crawl off to fetch your dog bowl, bottom in the air, chains slithering on the floor, and bring it back in your teeth to Mistress's feet.
"She's a good little bitch, don't you think, darling?" Master has come downstairs, while you were fetching the bowl.
"She's a dirty little bitch, with a laughably small set of tits," Mistress replies. "God knows why you married her."
Master laughs. "You're so deliciously mean, darling," he says, putting his arm around Mistress and leaning in to give her a kiss. It's a long, lingering kiss and you keep kneeling dutifully at their feet as you watch his hand caress and squeeze Mistress's firm, well-toned ass-cheeks through her semi-transparent negligee. Watching your husband take sexual pleasure from Mistress in front of you is hardly new, but it never fails to make your breath come in gasps and your dirty cunt leave your bare thighs coated with your arousal.
"Come along, cunt," he says in an affable voice as he finally breaks off the kiss, and ruffles your hair, "open your mouth and show Mistress why I married you."
He removes his semi-erect cock out of his boxers and stands looking at you expectantly. You know what to do: you kneel facing him, knees spread wide, palms upward. "Please may I have your hot piss, Master?" Then you open your mouth and wait.
Master obliges by directing a stream of his piss into your mouth until it is overflowing, and then you carefully spit it out into your dog bowl to join the dry muesli Mistress has given you for breakfast. It's a messy business and some of Master's piss inevitably ends up over your face, hair and dripping down over your small titties. Mess notwithstanding, you express your gratitude. "Thank you, Master," you tell him, your face shiny with gratitude and his piss.
"God, she's disgusting," Mistress says. "You can see her cunt dripping from here."
"She hasn't cum for six months, remember, darling?"
"Ahhh," Mistress replies in mock sympathy. "Hasn't dirty little pig cunt come in six months?" She takes a tight handful of your hair in her hand and jerks your head to look up into her eyes. "Dirty little pig cunt hasn't had any of nice Master's cock in there either, has she, piggy?"
"No, Mistress," you whimper.
"Only in your dirty piss mouth and in your tight little asshole, isn't that right, piggy cunt?"
"Yes, Mistress." The grip she has on your hair is painful.
"Master only wants to put his cock in my superior, hotter pussy, isn't that right, slut?"
"Yes, Mistress," you whisper. "You're far superior to me and pleasure Master much more than I could ever do."
"That's right, bitch." Mistress's face is a picture of triumph, and it makes you physically ache in the pit of your stomach when she rubs your nose in it like this. Still holding your hair tightly, she leans down to grab you by a nipple, twisting it tightly in her fingers making you yell out in pain. "You're just there for clean-up duty, aren't you, you fucking, disgusting slut?"
"Yes, Mistress," you gasp.
"Yes, Mistress, yes, Mistress," she repeats, in her most taunting, mocking voice, "is that all you can say for yourself?"
You can merely whimper in reply, which is a mistake because she lets go of your nipple and slaps you hard across your face. "Well, cunt?" she says, sneering, "nothing else to say?"
"I'm sorry, Mistress, I'm just a clean-up maid for my Mistress and Master."
"Yes, fucking right, with your tiny little fucking titties," she says, her face a picture of lust and cruelty, "what else could you be?" She delivers a stinging slap to one, and then the other of your tits leaving her palmprint emblazoned across them.
"You're right, Mistress, I'm sorry." You're not sure what you're sorry for, but you are.
Mistress is not satisfied with your answer. She drags you by your hair across the kitchen floor until your head is yanked backwards and positioned face up across the seat of a chair, then she pulls her nightgown aside and sits on your face, her ass cheeks and swollen, leaking cunt lips mashed into your face. Alternating between rubbing her cunt over your face and slapping your tits, you can do nothing but try to grab breaths of air when you can. Your face is slippery with her arousal, the smell of her fills and overpowers your nostrils. The sound is muffled, but as her movements become faster and faster, you hear her scream out, "fuck, oh fuck," over and over again, and you do your best to lick and catch all her juices as they flood out from her.
When she lifts herself off you, you see that your husband is holding his erect prick and that he has obviously shot his load over you while Mistress came over your face. His cum is over your tits and between your legs. "Jesus, that was hot as fuck," he breathes.
"Eat your breakfast, bitch," Mistress orders you, "then off to work with you."
You chow down on your meal of muesli and piss, your mouth and lips busy scooping the mushy, smelly mess into your mouth. You don't attempt asking whether you'll be allowed to shower before you go. Master will usually dunk your head in a bowl of cold water before unlocking your chains, but that's as far as it goes. His cum will be on you all day for everyone to smell and know what a dirty cunt you are.