tagBDSMBailey's Humiliation Games Ch. 03

Bailey's Humiliation Games Ch. 03

byLaceAndHumiliation©

{This is part three of a continuation of the "Bailey's Humiliation Games}



Hi, I'm Bailey. I'm a humiliation games slut. In my previous games I sucked off an older man in the back alley of a bar and the other one I sucked and fucked a black athlete. Both were complete strangers before they used me. It was all because of the humiliation "game" I make myself play.

I've found the idea of pleasing strangers in such humiliating ways to be the height of humiliation so far. This all started because my ex boyfriend, John, an older married man, introduced me to it. We both found how much I craved being used in ways others would find too embarrassing. As I've described in my previous stories, with my ex's help, we devised a game which would force me into such situations. I made up index cards with varying degrees of embarrassment, ranging from "mild" to "moderate" to "severe." Mild tasks would basically be introductory things that might help get a guy talking to me. Moderate tasks would be overt flirting things like having to show him my bra (or that I'm not wearing a bra!). Severe things, which I call the "humiliation card" would be full-out sexual use of some devious humiliation fantasy of mine. This is how I ended up sucking off that older man in the dirty alley and how that black guy used me all night, previously.

I had long, involved back and forth emails from John. He's been my mentor, so to speak, in things sexual and humiliating. Even though he's back with his wife and refuses anything to do with me sexually, I think the excitement of how his game for me has developed has kept him willing to stay in touch with me in this fashion. Occasionally, when things would heat up he would "allow" me to call him on his work phone, this way I've been able to keep him up to the minute on juicy details.

So, the game was that I picked a card out of a huge jar at random, with one of the tasks on it. I then presented it to a person, without me knowing what it is, then I had to do whatever the card said. I'd refined the game since the first time. I also had to randomly choose the type of guy, the place where it would happen, and what outfit I'd wear. Those were in separate jars. John pointed out, correctly, that it was getting too complicated, especially since I'd added some cards since the use by Trevor, the black athlete. I'd put in two cards specifically related to him and/or his friends. John said it didn't make sense anymore to pick out all those cards then happen to pick out a specific task which nullifies all the other stuff. I asked him for a better solution.

He said to just write my deepest, darkest fantasy tasks down and put them in one jar. He told me to limit them to one a month. That way I'd be absolutely out of my mind horny by the time I had to go through with it. He also asked if he could put suggestions in the jar as well. Just the thought of that heightened my lusty, nervous state. He knew me well already, though. We'd discussed my fantasies at great length. I had also kept him up to date about what I'd done so far without him. He'd made me admit how exciting it was to be used by a complete stranger in the ways that I had so far. Interestingly, it was he who suggested it would probably be more exciting if it was someone I knew. That would present a whole new level of embarrassment to it. I wasn't sold on it, even though just talking to him about things like that made me wet with desire for it.

And so it was, the month finally passed. I was as horny as I could ever remember. I spent the entire work week lost in fantasy thought. I work for myself. I do consulting for a number of companies and their human resources departments, I'll spare you with the boring details, the point being is that I work independently, but interact with a large number of employees.

I took a long shower as my nervousness grew. I kept glancing at the humiliation jar I had in plain sight, on my kitchen table. I felt like it was calling to me. I thought about what would happen if my mother or father ever came over while I was out and looked through it. I shuddered. I knew my dad would never understand his baby girl's desires. He was a loving but strict authoritarian. It was his way or the highway. He had strict rules for me about dating. It was as if he was trying to avoid my sexuality at all cost. In a way I think that might be the reason why I am like I am today, like I'm free, without the control. Maybe it just fueled my desire, maybe it's just a natural thing, I'm not sure. It's a powerful thing, though. I couldn't imagine my life now without it. It seemed like a driving force behind me, making me lust and desire to face each new day.

I was still dripping from the shower (and otherwise), the towel wrapped loosely around my torso when I approached the jar. Nervously I reached in without looking and picked a card. As fate would have it, it was one of John's. Somehow I knew it would be. The scarlet "A" no doubt would match the color of my face when I'd find out what the task would be. On the outside, along with the "A" was the word "Work," and in parentheses it said, "call me for instructions."

I knew he'd be waiting for this, hoping that it would be one of his devious ideas. He always worked late, I think mostly to avoid his shrew of a wife. Ok, she probably isn't a shrew, but any woman who doesn't allow such a beautiful and clever man to indulge in his creative fantasies doesn't deserve him, in my opinion. He was tickled when I told him about the card.

"Work? What does that mean?" I asked.

"You know well what it means," he chided. "I've discussed you having to please a coworker many times."

I gulped in apprehension. I knew it. I just didn't know how I could face it.

"But how can I live with it, after?..." I wondered aloud.

"That's the exciting part," he said proudly. "Think of how embarrassing it will be in the days ahead. When that person sees you at work and the two of you know what you've done..."

I moaned. "Ohhh, I know, that will be so hard..."

"Please," he chided. "You need it. You want it. You want something which will send your humiliation fantasies through the roof. I'll bet you are wet right now," he said probingly.

"God, yes," I sighed. "But people will know...." I whined.

"Of course they will, and that will drive you crazy, in a good way."

I couldn't see it at that moment but my pussy told me that he was probably going to be right. He was always right about me.

"Ok, sir. What am I supposed to do?" I asked in resignation.

"I have an idea for you. I still like the element of chance. That way you never know who it may be. First, I have a task for you. I want you to go to the copy place around the block from you. I'll call ahead and tell them what you want. All you do is show up and collect the five things," he said mysteriously.

I sighed. "Ok, sir. What next, is that it for the night?" I asked reluctantly. I was so fucking horny I didn't want to have to wait another night.

"Well, it depends, finding the right person may have to do with their schedules and such but no, it doesn't have to be it for the night. If you can make it happen tonight then all the better," he said, obviously pleased with my eagerness.

"What should I wear?" I asked.

He already had thought it out. "Wear those tight, white shorts of yours that I love so much. Also, that Metallica T-shirt, stilettos. No underwear. I knew the outfit, it was John's favorite. He loved watching me click clack across the floor as he ogled my ass in those shorts. The T-shirt was purposely ripped down the front, exposing my cleavage lewdly. He knew I always wore it tied in a knot at the bottom, which exposed my flat tummy.

"Ok," I smiled. "Someone is going to get quite a show," I thought. I dressed quickly. I admired myself in the mirror. I'm not usually so vain, but when I was as horny as I was at that moment, I wanted to look as hot as I felt. I was pretty sure the look would be met with approval by whoever happened to be lucky enough to see it.

"Call me when you are done at the copy shop," he said with excitement.

I thought about the card. "Work? Shit," I thought, Since I work independently, it didn't really matter or wasn't the business of any of the companies I worked with, but still, I shuddered when I thought about someone at one of those places knowing what I did for them. Then, having to see them on occasion....wow, I realized John was right, that really would be humiliating. Like I said, John was wonderfully devious.

The curiosity nearly killed me on the way to the copy shop. Thank goodness for me, the late shift at the printing shop was just one goofy, hairy, hippy type guy. He must've been tipped off about me or maybe it was my outfit but he knew what I was there for already.

"Don't worry, it won't take but a minute. We don't usually do five cards, we do them by the box, but I can see why you wouldn't want a box of these," he joked. I could only imagine what he was joking about since I didn't know the exact content of the card. He printed them on leftover blank cards he had laying around. He handed them to me. There were five of them. He held a sixth one in his hand.

"Weren't there supposed to be just five?" I asked innocently.

He said, "Oh come on, I'm a guy, you can't just walk in here and have me do this and not expect me to ask....besides the guy who called told me you'd try and get them for free."

I was forced to look at the cards. "This card entitles the bearer to one of Bailey's glorious blowjobs." The cards were numbered from 1 to 5, the fifth one was all written in red type. The blood rushed to my face. I recognized John's instructions, "try to get them free. He'd always prodded me to do this at other times, like with mechanics, pizza deliverers, etc. I'd hadn't actually done it yet.

Still, for some reason I always like to at least try and maintain some dignity, even when I was in the most undignified circumstances, such as this.

"I'm sure he was kidding," I bluffed. "These cards are just for me and my boyfriend, as a fun game."

I could see the disappointment in the guy's face. I'm sure he thought about what might happen every moment he was printing out those cards. So much so he'd even printed the extra card for himself.

"How much for them?" I asked. That was the easy way out. I could always pay.

"Well, like I said," he replied, this time in a more business like fashion. "We don't print them in such low numbers. We only charge by the box. So, one box is 35$."

That sounded steep but I thought of the alternative. I started to take out my purse. I could feel Roy, the copy guy, ogling me. I felt my nipples harden under his gaze. As per John's instructions, no underwear was allowed.

I was roasting under his gaze. I was so worked up from the month long denial, John's kinky ideas and my own mind spinning over the possibilities that I started to waver. Suddenly, I felt my phone buzz. It startled both of us back to reality. I was blushing already when I looked at the text message. It was from John, naturally. "Did you try and get them free?" He had written. I could feel Roy's eyes burning into my cleavage when I texted him back.

"Not yet," I replied before I almost chuckled at my own wording. "Not yet," I'd obviously already decided.

"Show me your card," I said, my face flushing with wonderful shame at what I was about to do.

He handed it over. I read it aloud to him, as I figured John would want. "This entitles the bearer to one of Bailey's glorious blowjobs. Ok, where?" I asked simply. I could feel my pussy wetten. I love sucking cock, it's like an addiction to me. Why I try and fool myself that I can take it or leave it is a mystery to me.

"Really? Awesome, fucking awesome," he said excitedly. I found myself on my knees in the cramped back office sucking the cock of an 18 or 19 year old who had a permanent grin on his face the whole time. I walked out of that place with the cards in my hand, still wiping his cum from my lips.

John took my call immediately. He was giddy that I'd done as he wished. My pussy was boiling now. I wanted to know what was next.

"Ok ok," he laughed at my over eagerness. "This task will really test your willingness to be humiliated. Are you sure you are willing? This is a tough one, I know. It involves you and a coworker."

"I know," I sighed. My pussy was making all my decisions now. "Yes, I'm willing, you know I am, I try and fight it but in the end, you know that I can't. The fact that it's you and your wonderful thoughts too, well, it drives me to an even higher level."

"Ok then. I have a list of six of your coworkers. You are going to pick one. Do you want to know the six or do you want it completely random?"

"I get to pick?" I asked. "Maybe this won't be so hard at all," I said to myself.

"No, you have to pick a number, I've assigned them each a number, you won't know who is who."

My shoulders slumped. He knew I shouldn't have it that easy. "Well, at least tell me who I'm choosing from, then," I begged.

"Sure," he laughed. "Eddie, Cal, Dean, Charlie, Scott, and Gary."

"Oh god," I thought. Eddie was the salesman at one of the companies. He was a sweaty, beer bellied guy in his 50s. Nice enough, but so not hot. Cal was one of the managers. He was also in his 50s but he was a silver haired fox. I thought of him like a poor man's George Clooney. He was sharp, he knew everything about the business, he greeted me every time with a sexy and sweet smile and always made me feel good about working with his company. " He wouldn't be bad at all," I thought.

Dean was in maintenance. He was in his early 20s, well built but dumb as a box of rocks. He reminds me of Joey, from Friends. I'd thought about his physique before, but never had considered him as a "prospect." I knew I'd have no choice in the matter, however. Charlie was the tech. Complete nerd. Greasy hair, thick glasses, pants too short, black socks, I swear if there was a manual on how to look nerdy he'd be the model. Again, super nice, but super not attractive. I began to shudder as I thought about the names and what I'd have to do for them. I glanced at the cards in my hand. "Fuck," I giggled nervously.

Scott was kind of a mystery pick. He'd just started working for the company. He was good looking but he was married. Not that it would matter to my game. Per my own rules I'd still have to give him that option, should he be "the one."

Finally, Gary. "Ugh," I thought. I hated everything about him. I hated his preening arrogance. He thought he was god's gift. He knew everything about everything, or so he'd claim. I hated him from the tips of his overpriced shoes to the top of his perfectly coiffed gel rigid hair. Oh, he was good looking all right in a purely physical sense. His overblown personality ruined any chance for him to be "hot" in my book. I'd heard rumors that he'd bragged to people in his company about how he banged me and then rejected me when I got all interested in him. Thankfully, I think most people recognize his lies the moment they leave his lips. I shuddered when I thought about what might happen if the stories were no longer lies. He was actually the owner of his company, thanks to his daddy dying and passing it to him. Cal, the manager, actually ran the place.

I started to protest to John. "Look, I'm not sure about this..." I pleaded. "I mean Gary, you know how I feel about him. I can't imagine living every day that I go into that business, having to see him, seeing him gloat, having to listen to the gossip no doubt he'd spread."

"Are you sure?" He asked. "Are you sure it wouldn't be humiliating?"

"Of course it would be," I said.

"And are you sure that you don't actually crave that? Are you sure you wouldn't absolutely get off on that?"

I started to deny it. He stopped me. "Fine. If you aren't comfortable with this we can stop. I think I know you, though. Yes, it'll be humiliating, ridiculously so. However, I'll bet your pussy is gushing and will be, whenever you think about it. Even if you don't do it now, you'll consider it, you'll ponder it and you'll eventually drive yourself crazy wishing you had."

He respected my wishes, though. We both admitted I enjoyed sucking off the copy guy and we left it at that. Funny thing was though, I didn't throw out the cards. I saw them in my purse every time I opened it. Days went by. I was still horny since I hadn't done the humiliation game I'd built myself up a month for. Even masturbation sessions couldn't take the edge off. Every time I saw those damned cards it made me think of how bad I wanted to get off. By Thursday that next week I even considered taking the cards out one by one and handing them out to strangers in similar fashion to my previous games. I even thought about going into the jar and finding the task requiring Trevor, the athlete, to line his friends up for me to suck. I just couldn't, though, I couldn't cheat myself. I took out the cards once more. The more I looked at them the hotter it made me.

Every day I went in to one of the companies to work I saw the men on the list. I swear they saw me looking at them differently and I would blush and quickly look away. Gary especially. He always looks at me like a wolf anyway, now, I wondered if he saw my fear. Up to that point I'd always smugly and confidently dismissed him with a glare. I wondered if he saw any weakness. He must've, his suggestive comments seemed more focused and frequent.

I hadn't talked to John since I backed out of the deal on the previous Friday. I called him Thursday evening. I had in mind that I'd beg him for something, anything else, just to be able to get off. I was primed for it. I was so fucking ready for something exciting I couldn't stand it. I really knew why I was calling, deep down. I think I knew how the conversation would go, even before I called.

John even chuckled as he answered the phone. "So, what do I owe the pleasure of this call to?" He mocked.

"John!" I scolded. "You've got me so fucking worked up I'm going crazy!" I moaned.

"How in the world am I driving you crazy?" He chuckled. "We haven't spoken for nearly a week."

"You know what's driving me crazy," I muttered pathetically. "You and your perverted idea!"

"What, you are still thinking about that lil 'ol thing?" He joked. He knew me. He told me that I'd be thinking about it, obsessing about it and he was right. He knew me better than I knew myself. He knew my needs, he knew what I desired. He especially knew my weakness for sucking cock. It was all part of his grand plan, no doubt.

"So, what's on your mind, sweet, slutty Bailey?" He asked.

I almost screamed at him, but I kept it to an impassioned plea, "You! You and your devious cards!"

He laughed softly. "I see. What about them?"

All pretense of mine was now lost. Any attempt to hide what I really wanted would be laughed off for what it was, a pathetic, transparent lie.

"I still have them, sir. I still have the cards," I meekly squeaked.

"And what is to be done with them?" He asked coolly.

"Finish it, sir. Finish the game," I said, barely above an embarrassed whisper.

He'd waited for this moment. He knew it was coming. He didn't have to hesitate.

"Pick a number, between one and six," he said sternly. I've mixed up the names and assigned each one a number. Whatever the number you pick, that's the guy you must give the cards to," he said, emphasizing the "must."

"I understand, sir," I said submissively. I was a slave to my own desires, this was me, and I had to admit that.

"No matter who you pick?" He asked me.

"Yes, sir. No matter who I pick," I said apprehensively, knowing full well the possibilities.

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