Blondie's Humiliation Stories

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Chapter 19: Behind the Eight Ball
Sat Feb 9, 2008 10:40am

“Oh yes,” agreed Brenda, “We really need to find out. I’ll bet it’s not much more than five inches.”

“Okay, here’s the deal,” said the keyed up Becky effusively. Her productive mind was always working, and in this case it was to my detriment. “If little Blondie’s penis in his excited state is five inches or more, then he wins and we’ll let him get dressed and go on his…not so merry way. BUT… if it’s less than five inches he…let me think about this for a second………. I’ve got it! If it’s less than five inches he has to perform for us by playing with his tiny little toy until he spurts.” Explosive cheers of amusement and agreement followed.

“Please, Becky…” I pleaded, lowering the dildo from my mouth.

“Lick and suck, lick and suck!” commanded Becky. I obeyed her unrelenting order. She then picked up the pink hand towel and wrapped it around my eyes while tying it behind my head, creating an effective blindfold. I momentarily stopped activity with the dildo, which brought on another admonition from Becky. “I’m not going to tell you again, Blondie—you keep sucking on Mitch’s penis until he cums.” Everyone laughed and I flushed brighter. The reference to sucking on Mitch’s penis was hard to swallow (please excuse the pun). There was a minute of two of total silence, save for the small slurping sounds I was making with the dildo. I thought I might have heard some whispering.

Then it started.

Sexual Arousal

I felt some fingers caressing my hair and lightly massaging my scalp. I had no idea who it was. Within moments two other sets of fingers began stroking my nipples and their surrounding areas, using varying circular motions. It was stimulating, and it was all I could do to keep from becoming erect. I was really hoping I could fight it off and avoid further humiliation. But then I felt someone else (again I don’t know who¬—to this day I can’t tell you who was doing what) come behind me and she (he? Oh, how I hoped not) started licking my right ear, caressing me with his or her tongue. At the same time yet two more sets of fingers began stroking the insides of both of my thighs. Then another tongue started exploring my other ear. The feeling was (I’m afraid to say) exquisite, and to my chagrin I felt myself starting to become aroused. I heard a couple of stifled giggles, followed by a “shh” sound. I remember thinking what a sight I must have been, dutifully sucking on a dildo (Mitch’s “pretend” penis) while trying unsuccessfully to stave off an inevitable hard-on. To make matters worse, I was pretty sure the video camera was capturing the extraordinary scene for posterity.

My situation was becoming bleaker by the second. I felt somebody’s tongue circling my nipples, and ever so slowly the tongue started working its way down my torso. Meanwhile, somebody (please, not Mitch) was using their four fingers and thumb to gently caress my balls. There was no turning back for me now; I had a full-fledged hard-on. Again more stifled giggles. The tongue had found its way to my crotch, and began licking my balls. I felt my penis standing straight up now. The tongue (God, PLEASE don’t be Mitch) slowly, teasingly slid up and down the shaft of my penis. I involuntarily began rotating my hips slightly and moaned softly, while still sucking on the dildo. I heard more giggling. Then I felt a mouth (I tried to imagine it belonging to Cheryl, but I just couldn’t totally dismiss the thought that it could well belong to Mitch) engulfing my whole penis. For the first time in my life, I was getting a blow job. Never did I imaging that my first experience receiving oral sex would be tremendously humiliating, but that was exactly the sorry state of affairs.

Then a voice (I recognized it as Becky’s) whispered loudly in my ear (someone else was still licking it, but I heard my sister’s demand), “Suck faster, Blondie. Mitch wants to cum. Faster! Faster!” To the sounds of more muffled giggles I attacked the dildo with more fervor. The slurping sounds were louder now, coinciding with the slurping sound coming from my own penis. Both my head and hips were moving back and forth at a furious pace. Two people were still delving into my ears with their tongues, another mouth was kissing my chest and stomach, and someone (maybe the same person who was giving me head—maybe not) was tickling my balls with their fingers. The sensation was overpowering, and I was just about to explode. My sister somehow sensed as much.

“STOP!” yelled Becky. And they did. So did I, and I removed the dildo from my mouth, holding it at my side. I was left in a state of near-climax, which created a dichotomy. From a physical standpoint, it was sheer frustration. But on the other hand, to achieve reluctant orgasm at their hands (and mouths) would certainly exacerbate my already humiliating state.

Another Measurement

“Time for a measurement!” stated Felicity while she retrieved the measuring tape from the top of the bar.

“Yes,” chimed in Cheryl, “Let’s see if Blondie has to finish the job in front of us or if he can do it in the privacy of his bedroom.” This elicited yet another chorus of laughter.

Everyone gathered around me in excited anticipation. I prayed silently that I would “measure up.” I honestly wasn’t sure if I would or not. It had been a year or so since I had measured myself. Then it was only four and a half inches. I remember thinking that surely I must be larger now. My penis was still fully erect, so at least I had a chance, I felt. Felicity eagerly stretched the tape across the length of my shaft. I looked down for the tale of the tape, and my heart sank appreciably.

“It’s only four and a half inches!” squealed Felicity, to everyone’s glee and amazement.

“You lose, Blondie,” sang Becky cheerily. “Now we get to see your grand performance. Do you think you can spurt some juice out of that little thing?” Everyone laughed heartily. They were at an elevated level of excitement and enjoyment now. Felicity actually rubbed her palms together and jumped up and down, grinning from ear to ear.

My Naked Performance

“Let’s see,” said Becky. “We should put you up on a stage.” She snatched a large beach towel from a shelf and draped it across the felt of the pool table. She patted the table and said, “Hop up here, sweetie pie, so we can all see you better.” I momentarily put my face in my hands, and then lifted my knee to climb up onto the table. I tried handing Becky the dildo, but she would have none of it. “No-no-no, you need that; poor Mitch is still waiting for you to make him cum.” Dismally, I climbed up onto the pool table.

“Blondie promised he would dance for me on my birthday,” proclaimed Felicity. “I think we should make Blondie dance for us while he makes himself spurt.” I winced noticeably.

“Oh, what a brilliant idea!” laughed Becky. “A naked dance on the pool table while sucking on Mitch and getting himself off. That should be quite the spectacle!” She walked briskly to the stereo to select the music. “Marcia, do get this on tape; this ought to be some absolutely priceless footage.” She pulled a CD and cued it on the player. “Okay, big boy, it’s show time. This is your grand finale, so you’d better make it good.” She hit the start button and “I’m So Excited” by the Pointer Sisters began playing on the stereo. Becky jacked up the volume. I began to dance, though rather lethargically. My level of humiliation had never been higher.

“Faster, Blondie, faster!” screamed Julie. I picked up the pace somewhat, difficult as it was.

“Suck Mitch’s dick, Blondie, suck it!” yelled Brenda. I had forgotten about the dildo in my left hand. I raised it to my mouth and simulated oral sex on the fake penis. “Suck faster, Blondie!” continued the relentless Brenda. “Mitch wants you, SUCK his dick!” I increased the tempo of the sucking motion, to everyone’s amusement.

“Spank that little monkey, Blondie!” ordered Becky. My penis had shrunken about halfway since the group stimulation ended a few minutes earlier. It would be problematical for me to regain that level of excitement under the circumstances, but I had a pretty good feeling that my ordeal would not end until I managed to climax. I took my penis in my right hand and started playing with myself. Becky reached behind her and pulled a small brown container of suntan oil from a shelf, and walked up to the pool table.

“Hold out your right hand, Blondie!” she yelled over the music. When I did, she poured a fair amount of the oil into my palm. The fragrance of coconut permeated the room. “Stroke that little weenie, Blondie!” I did so, and my penis became harder with the help of the lubricant. “Keep dancing, Blondie! And suck that dick! Go Blondie! Go Blondie!” I stroked, I danced and I sucked. The cheering and laughing increased. “You’re not dancing fast enough, Blondie. Faster!” screamed Becky. I tried moving a little faster, but (naturally) my heart wasn’t in it. Words can’t do justice to the humiliation I felt at that time. I looked out at my tormentors and saw seven young ladies in a state of utter bliss. Mitch was standing behind the bar, which was shielding his activity. It was plain for me to see that he was in the midst of self-gratification. He looked at me lustfully. I quickly turned my head away in disgust.

“Dance, Blondie! Faster!” Julie pushed.

“All right, that does it,” I heard Becky say. She marched over to the far wall and pulled a canoe oar from its hook. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to comprehend its purpose for this situation. I braced myself for the blow, but no amount of mental preparation on my part could have mitigated the pain I was about to experience. “I said FASTER!” The loud smacking sound and the word “faster” were simultaneous. In two short seconds the searing pain reverberated throughout my body. Becky looked up at me and held the oar up menacingly. “Do I need to tell you again?” she yelled. I needed no further encouragement. I started dancing like a maniac; hell, I was jumping up and down from the pain. The cheering and laughter was at its loudest point of the night. I moved at a frenetic pace, and the rhythm of the sucking and stroking motions naturally increased likewise. They were laughing hysterically now, seemingly in a frenzy. I couldn’t help but to glance at Mitch, and could see that behind the bar he was pumping away in earnest now. I couldn’t let that get to me; I had to cum. I was getting very close, and I was pumping away frantically. Becky turned the music up even louder. The Pointers were at a fever-high pitch. “I’M SO EXCITED. I JUST CAN’T HIDE IT. I’M ABOUT TO LOSE CONTROL, AND I THINK I LIKE IT, YEAH,” they were singing. And it was right at this point that I lost control, but I don’t think I liked it. I stopped dancing, and my body stiffened. Without thinking, I dropped my left hand, but left the dildo in my mouth (to their added hilarity, I’m sure). I pumped furiously with my right hand, and the juices flowed.

“WHOO HOO!” they were screaming and laughing. I continued to pump away, at this point completely absorbed in my fulfillment. “YEAH, BABY! YOU GO, BLONDIE! WHOOOOO!” The last drops of my fluid dribbled out, and I dropped to my hands and knees, totally spent from the hideous humiliation I had endured. Beads of sweat dripped from my forehead. The music quieted, and momentarily the girls did, too. Then a moan emanated from behind the bar. The girls turned back, and it was obvious that Mitch had just achieved his goal.

“Congratulations, Blondie, you did it—you got Mitch off!” blurted out my sister. To the sounds of laughter, she threw me a robe. As the merry group filed out, my sister had a parting shot. “Don’t make any plans for tomorrow night, sweetie. We’ll all be back to watch the video, and we’ll need someone to serve cocktails and hors d’ oeuvres. Nothing fancy, you can come as you are.”

They disappeared into the night, their sounds of laughter gradually diminishing. I wrapped the robe around my shoulders and stared down blankly at my drying sperm. The feeling of desolation was overpowering, and the suppressed tears began to flow. As my whimpers escalated to loud, uncontrollable sobs, my sense of hopelessness hit home, seemingly registering in my brain with a loud thud. I rued the day I made the decision to enroll in Roosevelt High, my personal house of horrors.


It's two weeks later, and I'm just now starting to come out of my doldrums. I did have to submit to them the next night. I'm not going to go into detail, but they forced me to watch the video. They made me strip naked again and I had to serve them cocktails and hors d’ oeuvres. They were having a high old time, and it was excruciating for me to relive the horrible affair all over again.

I don't know what the future holds, but one thing that keeps me going is hope. I don't know how I can go about it, but I'm working on coming up with a plan to exact revenge on each and every one of my tormentors. When I do I will be sure to add to this story. What a great feeling that will be!

  • Chapter 19: Behind the Eight BallBlondie., Sat Feb 9 10:39am
    The Lopsided Contest Well, I’ve finally mustered up the courage to tell you about the rest of the degradations I suffered at the slumber party at the hands of the ruthless evildoers from... more
    • Chapter 19: Behind the Eight Ball — Blondie., Sat Feb 9 10:40am
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You won't be getting your clothes back until you dance naked for us.