Ebony Humiliation

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Ebony Humiliation
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Home Featured Why Sexual Humiliation Can Be So Damn Hot
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Do you ever find yourself lying in your bed, thinking back to every possible instance where you’ve felt humiliated? Wincing while remembering the most embarrassing and demeaning moments of your life?
Like, maybe you had some toilet paper stuck to your pants when you walked out of your highschool bathroom. It happens, right? But, oh, no , someone noticed it! What’s more, they pointed it out to the entire school! The horror !
Or perhaps your crush publicly rejected and ridiculed you in front of a huge crowd? That’s humiliation. Most people try their best to avoid it. No wonder, right? The negative feelings of embarrassment, shame, and dread that usually follow are a nightmare to most people.
However, some people get off on it. Have you ever felt that delicious pang of sexual arousal while you’ve been remembering those situations? Then you might be into humiliation play.
What pops into your mind when you hear the words “sexual masochism?” Pain, probably, right? But there’s so much more to sexual masochism than mere pain and torture. After all, words can sometimes hurt more than anything else, right?
Sexual humiliation is a form of sexual masochism. It’s usually a part of a dominant-submissive arrangement. The more dominant partner humiliates and embarrasses the submissive one for the sake of sexual arousal and gratification.
In other words, some people simply love being verbally, physically, and psychologically humiliated. This results in enormous sexual arousal that they can’t achieve in any other way.
Now, although erotic humiliation has fascinated people for years, there isn’t much research about it. We don’t know precisely why some people like it. That’s especially weird considering that humiliation is a fairly popular kink. But then again, it doesn’t really matter, does it?
If you like something and your partner is willing and able to give it to you (in other words, if everything is safe, sane, and consensual), then every sexual act you can think of is perfectly fine and acceptable. There’s no kink-shaming in the BDSM community!
Erotic humiliation has to be done with the informed consent of all parties. What’s more, it isn’t something that you can jump into without a lengthy discussion.
Just like any other kink, humiliation demands negotiations. One person might find being called a filthy whore, for example, to be just the right amount of humiliation, while someone else might see that as nothing more than light dirty talk.
So you have to figure out what works for you (and your partner) and set soft and hard limits.
Also, if you’re a complete novice in the world of humiliation, you’re probably wondering what’s it all about. What does it look like? What does it feel like? What do partners say and do to each other?
Overall, we can split humiliation play into two categories — verbal and physical. There are also several levels of intensity when it comes to humiliation play.
There’s the lowest, mildest level, which is embarrassment. Then there’s the run-of-the-mill humiliation, as well as degradation and dehumanization. The latter two are the more intense and not something you should jump into right off the bat.
The thing about the humiliation kink is that it’s extremely specific. You might think that being called a slut in bed is extremely embarrassing. But your partner might not agree.
That’s why negotiating before playing is vital. You have to find the right words and actions that are both erotic (that entice arousal) and embarrassing or humiliation for humiliation play to be successful.
Physical humiliation often includes a reversal of gender roles. Making a man do housework (usually in the nude and on all fours) will probably be a real hit. What’s more, making men wear women’s clothing — short skirts, women’s lingerie, stockings, and even high heels — is another popular form of physical humiliation. Putting men in a cuckold position is another example (albeit an extreme one).
Even something minor can be a form of humiliation. Making your partner wait for ten or more minutes before you open the door to let them in, for example. Or making them crawl instead of walk into your home.
Some popular forms of physical humiliation are:
Although you often don’t even have to speak to humiliate someone, verbal humiliation is still quite popular. If your partner is a man, try calling him a little boy, puppet, sissy, or a pet. And if they are a woman, go for little girl, slut, doll, and whore.
Aside from that, using derogatory language based on your partner’s insecurities will make them divinely humiliating. Maybe they have body image issues? Call them fat and disgusting. Of course, only if you previously agreed upon that.
Even men who have perfectly average dicks are afraid that their manhood isn’t big enough to satisfy their partners. If your partner is into humiliation play, targeting their penis to embarrass and humiliate them is a perfect choice.
What does Science say about the exact penis size for satisfying women? Find out here
Is there anything better than making someone else do your job for you? That’s forced flattery. It’s a form of humiliation where the dominant makes the submissive flatter them while also degrading themselves.
For example, if you’re trying to humiliate your partner, make them act as your footstool. Also, make them say something like, “You’re a goddess, and I don’t deserve you because I’m so worthless!”
The two most extreme levels of humiliation include the dominant partner making the submissive partner feel less than a human. That can include making them feel like a piece of furniture or even an animal (which is an extreme form of pet play).
The question of why some people are turned on by humiliation is not an easy one to answer. The thing is — if you’re into it, then you’re into it. Other people might not get it in the same way that some people don’t get extreme sports. Why risk your life jumping out of an airplane?
Well, because it’s exciting! It’s arousing! On top of that, it’s also a taboo. And every taboo is hot .
If you’re really looking for an answer on why humiliation is sexually arousing to some people, you might find it in prior experiences. Some subs have had experiences where pain, embarrassment, and humiliation occurred at the same time as pleasure. Thus, they might be chasing that high again. You might want to check Sexual Masochism Disorder .
So what should you do if your partner approaches you with the suggestion to try humiliation play? Well, feel free to say no if that’s not your thing. All BDSM practices are huge on consent and mutual satisfaction. So don’t force yourself to do anything you don’t want to.
But what if the thought of humiliating your partner lights that spark deep within you? What if it makes your private parts twitch in anticipation? Well, then sit your partner down to hash out all the details.
Coming up with a safe word as well as a plan for your scene is vital. Both partners also need to be able to enjoy the scene. So there’s probably some compromising coming your way in the future. But, hey, at least the end result will be mind-blowing!

Yes, There Are More Stories — mrstrict1@aol.com
She lies forward over the sodomy stool, feeling its hard surface beneath her, listening to him at her rear, preparing her behind for chastisement. Behind her, methodically opening the flaps of the humiliation gown he’s made her put on, exposing the seat of her pantied bottom to the mirrored walls of the punishment room.
She looks straight ahead as he opens the gown to reveal her behind, her red strapped cheeks clenched tight underneath the sheer white punishment panties he’s exposed. She looks at the mirror in front of her, wondering who’s behind it, looking out at her. Who can see her there in that humiliating posture; already disgraced, with the greatest part of the mortification still to come.
He has the humiliation gown completely opened now, and he pauses to admire the view. Then tells her in a loud voice to reach back and pull her panties down below her buttocks. And then, after she’s done so, after she’s felt him strip her panties off entirely, to move her hands up to spread her cheeks and reveal everything between them.
She complies, knowing that the watchers behind the mirrored wall that faces her backside are enjoying the scene, enjoying her humiliation as she bends forward, her gown opened, her behind displayed. That’s why he’s invited them there, for their enjoyment and her shame. Corrective humiliation, he always calls it; and its effects on her are so drastic that she shudders even when all he does is say the words.
She bends forward, staring at the glass in front of her, at the watchers she presumes are behind it. She’ll never know who they are, how many have come – if indeed there are any there at all. But it doesn’t matter; even if the viewing areas behind the four mirrored walls of punishment room she’s in are empty, her mind tells her that they’re full.
Her mind tells her she’s being watched, and her senses conspire with that conclusion. Her ears prick whenever he stands still for a moment, seeking to hear the hear the telltale sounds of the people behind the two-way mirrors that circle the room. The sound of a throat being cleared? Of a sigh of pleasure as her behind is revealed, the humiliation gown opened, the punishment panties pulled down and off, allowing her to separate her legs wider, spread her cheeks further, present herself with her rectum completely exposed?
Or is it a faint cluck of disapproval at the fact that she’s been allowed to wear panties at all.
She keeps her face tilted up to the mirrored wall in front of her, her eyes towards the glass as she’s been taught, trying not to close them as she puts her hands back to her underpants, drawing them down to expose herself to the people behind the mirror at her rear. Keeps her eyes fixed forward as she feels him removing the panties, as she feels him spreading her legs further, exposing everything between them to the unseen eyes behind the glass.
He had her change into the punishment panties early – earlier than usual – and so it’s a relief to get them down finally, for the thick coating of Vicks he smeared in the seat before having her step into them has stung her strapped behind for several hours.
Vicks in the seat of her panties, stinging her behind. In traditional English correction, salted fat was applied across the red scorched bottomcheeks of a schoolgirl in the final stages of punishment in the headmaster’s study. Salted fat, to make the bottom burn; salted fat, after the strapping, while the girl sobbed over the stool. Salted fat on a strapped schoolgirl bottom, before the sodomy that, from the accounts she’s read, were a regular part of the pedagogical punishments of those long-gone times. Salted fat rubbed into the schoolgirl’s scorched bottom to further increase the sting before her rounded cheeks were spread, her tight anus Vaselined and then penetrated. The headmaster behind her thrusting forward, driving the culprit towards the opened window before her with each entry of the rigid organ into her bowels, with each entry between her martyred cheeks.
Driving the poor girl forward towards the opened window, inching forward with each penetration of her bared behind until, finally, she comes to rest with her face at the sill, her nose pressed to the glass, seeing the freedom outside as her behind is repeatedly impaled by her chastiser’s Vaselined cock.
The girl’s nose to the window, much as her nose is near the mirrored walls of the room. Her eyes to the glass, near the eyes on the other side, looking in.
She’s no schoolgirl, but, like those unfortunate young women of that earlier place and time, early that morning she too had her posterior bared for application of the punishment strap.
Woke that morning with a start, hearing his voice, the cold calmness of it, and all that portended. Woke, dressed, and glumly followed him into his study, where he led her to the old wooden school desk he kept there, made her look at it and endure his lecture as he stripped her panties down. And then, as she pleaded with him, bent her forward over the hard wood, her behind up, her panties neatly arranged below her buttocks to leave her sex and anus bared to his view while he got the strap, while he applied it.
And then, when her kicks and cries and pleas for mercy told her chastiser she could bear no more, she waited like that, buttocks raised and spread. Waited for the application of requisite unguent to the seat of her punishment panties and, inevitably, her strap-scorched flesh. Times change, she thinks, but whether Vicks or salt applied to a punished posterior, the effects are much the same.
As she pulls the punishment panties down, she feels the sudden relief of the cold air of the room blowing across her behind, the relief of the sudden absence of the Vicks in the seat of the underpants against chastised flesh. She knows her bottom glows bright red and shiny before the eyes of the watchers; still, she’ll take the mortification of having it exposed to the pain that the panties brings.
And so she lies there, over the stool, her behind bared, the panties down to her knees, her humiliation gown spread open. Waiting, knowing what’s coming next, anticipating it as much as she despises the feelings that the anticipation bring.
He begins the lecture, idly playing with the lace trim on the gown, with the dainty ties in back that she sewed by hand. The gown was her idea, a feminine variation of the plain hospital jonny he once favored; but she had found too late that the lace trim and other delicate adornments only made the basic function of the gown all the more apparent. Humiliation, pure and simply, the humiliation of having to show your behind, of being unable to conceal it. Of wearing a garment designed solely for exposure and accessibility; purposes that no amount of lace or dainty decoration can alter or abate.
He lectures, and the watchers – if they’re there – stare at her behind through the opened gown, at her white cheeks, at the deep crevice between them, at the occasional glimpses of her fear-clenched rectum that her motions over the stool reveal.
His voice rises and falls, but she can’t focus on what he’s saying; she’s too caught up in the humiliation of being observed. Too caught up in the idea of the eyes on her – caught up in it even though the reality of the watchers is unclear.
She’s imagining herself in their position, anonymous behind the mirrors, witnessing her punishment. She imagines staring at the face first, the culprit’s face – her face. Leaning forward to the glass to stare into the eyes, the pupils dilated, the cheeks shot through with shame. Viewing the behind, the cheeks forced apart by the position over the stool, the anus visible, the pussy beneath all too shamefully exposed. She would masturbate if she were watching; are they doing that now?
Consumed with this thought, she wishes her hands were free to rub herself, but he’s told her not to move them. Still, she is able to shift her hips slightly, feeling the hard surface of the stool rubbing her sex as she does so. No substitute for her hands, but the best she can do in the circumstances.
She hopes he doesn’t notice her motions; the penalty for masturbation during correction is a thick coating of Vicks between her legs during the session, and a bare-bottom paddling over his lap every night for the next week.
Holding a ginger suppository high in her bowels as the paddle crimsons her buttocks.
He’s done with the preliminaries now, and its time for the spanking. The first spanking, she corrects herself, the one she’ll get with her bowels empty. The second, of course, will be longer, stretching from the moment he opens the clamp on the enema bag up to the point 10 or 15 minutes later when he finally allows her to sit on the potty chair to expel. The third, during sodomy; the fourth, immediately afterwards, although, once he’s spent, the discipline is usually half-hearted.
She tries not to think about the spankings, and especially about the potty chair and the humiliation she’ll endure when he seats her on it. Her bared red bottom all too visible to the audience, its most menial functions on display for their pleasure and her mortification.
His cock, presented to her mouth as her bottom performs. That though, at least, is almost comforting.
He’s picked up a second strap from the table to his side, longer than the one he’d used in the morning; the instrument of the reformatory, heavy leather that will leave bands of pain across her already burning behind. It descends down without warning, a loud report as it meets the white flesh of her bared buttocks, and the eyes behind mirrors judge the severity of the instrument from the sudden stiffening of the culprit over the stool.
It’s a very Victorian correction: the reformatory strap; an errant young lady over a discipline stool; a strict older man administering the full correction to her exposed behind. In that situation, of course, the watchers would have been other teachers, there to witness the culprit receiving her comeuppance. Or, equally as likely, other students, waiting to undergo the same treatment, knees knocking as they stand watching, skirts pinned up, knickers drawn down, contemplating their own fates. Two or three other girls, perhaps, two or three more bottoms to be dealt with. Two or three more pairs of bare white cheeks waiting for the application of the strap across them, for the insertion of the Vaselined nozzle between them when the Headmaster washes out their spanked behinds.
And, that night, three or four tearful penitents bent over the ends of adjacent beds in their dorm room with their pajamas lowered, for the forced and forceful application of the headmaster’s stiff cock between their red cheeks and into their greased virginal bowels. One by one, as they squirm and cry and plead for mercy, promising, one after another, to be good. The kicking legs and futile promises ending only with the loud injection of sperm deep into each girl’s red tensing posterior.
Put to bed like that, pajamas down, each behind still Vaselined, each behind full of sperm. She knows this will be her fate, sperm in her backside to conclude the session, sperm in backside when she’s led from the room, still in the humiliation gown.
Sperm, deep in ba
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