Humiliation Vignette

The building looked like a defunct Seven-Eleven, except it was brightly lit by chasing bare bulbs in multiple colors like tacky Christmas lights and three big tacky neon signs announcing "Adult Bookstore", "Viewing Booths" and "Open 24 Hours".

Although the door and windows were glass, they were all frosted as if by being soaped and only seemed to glow white from within. Elaine wondered if it was purposely sleazy looking. Must such a place have all the cliché look of dirty nest for perverts?

She pursed her lips and parked next door at the now closed "Wash-O-Matic Car Wash." Opening her car door, she swung her long legs out and felt the warm summer night air. A breeze wafted over her that smelled like distant rain. The alarm chirped when she locked it as she walked towards the front door.

Hesitating before the door, she affirmed her consent to his invitation here tonight. Instinctively she brushed at her skirt and straightened her jacket as if she was about to enter a boardroom. She had come this far she thought, and her hand reached out to open the door.

As an electronic chime sounded as the door opened, she stepped inside. A virtual wall of icy cool air met her and the whole place almost glared arctic white. The linoleum floor was bright shiny white and the ceiling was filled with fluorescent fixtures. To the left of the door was a raised counter for the shabby looking clerk who took notice of her as she stepped past him.

She imagined she looked completely out of place in her very classy business suit and designer heels. With her makeup tastefully applied and her hair coiffed, she looked totally professional. If she was a whore she thought the clerk thinking to himself, she would be one of those absurdly pricy ones, the chuckle merely in her head.

Scanning the place for him, she saw the shelves lined with movies and the racks for magazines or books. The categories were nothing like at Borders. Each shelf had simple words like "Gay", "Lesbian", "BDSM", "Hardcore", "Anal", and so forth. A litany of kinks she thought.

A few single guys milled around, browsing the various shelves, one dressed casually leaned over a glass case filled with sex toys as if he were shopping for jewelry, another average looking one was browsing the "Gay" shelf, and the third was wearing a conservative three-piece business suit that caught her eye.

He stood with his back to her, before a shelf filled with graphic "novels," cheap pulp looking comic books that animated sex to impossible fantasies. He appeared to be looking over the wild cover art.

Elaine straightened her back once more and rather strutted over to him, her heels clicking audibly on the floor with each step.

"Michael," she said in a low voice.

The man turned and smiled at her as if in greeting. He bent and lifted a plain brown grocery bag.

"This way, please" he said politely as his hand motioned back towards a door beside the counter.

Once more her heels clicked with her steps as she went to the door. From the corner of her eye she noticed the clerk nodded back as he looked at him. Then she saw the sign setting out the price of rental for a "Private Viewing Booth."

She stopped at the door and read the word "Theater" garishly painted in pink on its lime green front. From behind her he pushed on the door and it swung open.

"Ladies first," he continued in his familiar polite tone.

Holding it for her, she walked past him and into the narrow hallway beyond the open door. It was dimly lit compared to the store and lined with narrow doors done one side. From behind the doors she heard the faint unmistakable sounds of sex.

She thought of the girls on film exaggerating their screaming orgasms and begging to be pounded "harder" and "deeper", "fuck me" seemed the only speech those unseen mouths could babel between screeches.

She might not admit to it in polite company, but she had seen enough such films to have mental images to go with the throw away dialogue and raw exposed sex imagery flickering away behind those closed doors.

"The last door," he said calmly from behind her.

Looking past the doors she saw the last one was open, swung out into the hall, an almost brighter light pooling on the hallway floor. A bright yellow mop bucket sat catty-corner to the door, the mop handle resting near the frame, at the end of the hall before the door marked "EMPLOYEES ONLY."

Stepping to the open door her heels clicked once last time. The room was tiny, a mere cubicle no bigger it seemed than a bathroom stall, with a television behind a sheet of glass, bare white walls, a hard plastic chair and a big box of cheap generic tissues. The space was more pathetic than any of her fantasies.

"Do you know what men do in here," he whispered to her ear as he stood immediately behind her.

Elaine knew. Or at least she imagined she knew. She imagined some lonely man renting his video he was too ashamed to buy and too proud to have in his home, watching the filthy movie as he stroked his own lonely desperate dick like a horny teen alone in the dark until he could resist it no more.

"Is that what the tissues are for," she coyly answered in a low seductive voice.

With her inhale after speaking she got a nose full of disinfectant and was reminded of just how dirty this room must become.

"Please step inside," he replied.

As she did so, the TV flickered to life and a title flashed before some thin credits with foolish sounding names and of course a cliché scene setting up some dopy housewife being called upon by two hapless salesmen she was of course going to be fucking wildly in a matter of minutes.

"Please turn the chair towards me, but do not sit down," he said almost matter-of-factly.

She made no gesture and said nothing as she gingerly touched the chair and turned it. The gap between the door and the chair was not enough to let him enter unless he stood between her legs and pressed back against the closed door.

"Please strip to your underwear," he said calmly.

Her tongue wetted her lips with its very tip and her eyes glanced around as if to see if anyone could see. She felt her hands get clammy and her feet felt suddenly hot in her shoes.

Slowly she began to unbutton her jacket and she hesitated as if expecting to find a hook.

"Please hand everything to me," he added as she glanced around.

Next she unbuttoned her blouse and handed this to him and unzipped her skirt, careful not to let it touch the floor as she stepped out of it, and then lifting her full slip over her shoulders so as not to let it touch the floor either.

Elaine sought out his eyes; proudly she stood in just her panties and bra, a tastefully sexy set in delicate white lace.

"You are very beautiful," he smiled as he spoke.

She stood poised and still, her back straight and her arms at her side. She listened to him breathing as the absurd sounds of sex played behind her. She felt her belly move as her lungs filled and emptied, her chest rising and falling.

"I truly love a woman's belly," he said quietly. "Yours is so very flat and toned."

She thought of her hard work keeping her fitness at a younger woman's peak and smiled prideful inside.

"Please turn around so I can see you from behind," he finally added.

As she did, she moved in place until she faced the television and only glanced at the scene she could not help but imagine as the sounds continued unabated.

"Please lean forward a little and step your feet apart."

Obedient she did so, bending at her waist, her heels now a short stride's distance apart. Again she felt her pride as her toned buttocks flexed in this stance.

"Please remove your bra."

Straightening she reached behind her back and unhooked the bra, slipping the now loose straps off her shoulders and letting it fall down her arms to her hands. Her nipples were already stiff with excitement but now hardened to the chilled breeze from overhead as the air-conditioning seemed to kick back on just then. Turning back to him her bared breasts showed in silhouette as she reached to hand him the bra.

"Please remove your panties."

She clenched her hands as if to wipe them of perspiration, a nervous tick perhaps as she steeled herself to disrobe completely before him. Her fingers glanced over the narrow sides at her hips and curled into the elastic band before pushing them downwards. As they furled into a bunch she felt her butt grow exposed to him and how her front now felt only the room air.

She tried to be graceful as she sort of bent at her knees and waist and reached down her legs, one bending to lift her foot off the floor, her hands pulling the bunched fabric over her foot and then the same on the other foot until she could straighten once more with only her heels on and her still warm panties in her hand.

Again she turned and exposed the side of her breast as she reached to hand away her last garment.

"Please step wider this time and lean until you touch the seat of the chair."

Obedient once more she did as he asked, reaching before her to brace her bent body on the chair as her feet moved a full stride apart for him. She knew that her thighs were flexed tight and the gap at top perfectly framed her curved pussy lips, the inner ones dangling from the parting outer pair like a tongue ready to French kiss.

"Simply lovely," he nearly whispered.

Except for her high heels, she stood naked in a sleazy porn video booth.

"Turn around," he said brusk.

Turning she knew she was fully exposing her body to him. She loved how it felt to be this exposed.

"Put your hands behind your head and stand up as straight as you can."

Her tits thrust forward and her legs stretched, her thighs open, her ass clenched.

She saw that all of her clothes were neatly folded and inside the grocery bag.

"Give me your shoes," he now ordered.

She was desperate to shake her head no. The muscles of her neck tightened and only her mind overruled her instinct. He knew how she despised a dirty floor. He knew how deeply it stung to have dirty feet.

"Please," she whimpered.

He simply looked at her sternly, giving no sign of retracting his demand.

Her feet were beautiful, long and thin, her toes were freshly manicured and painted bright red as he had instructed. These were pampered feet, bathed, exfoliated, massaged with aromatic lotion, and pedicured regularly. He loved her feet, caressing them, kissing them, sucking her toes. How could he abuse them now?

She lifted her leg and slipped off the first shoe. As she now stepped barefoot to the cold floor, her toes touched gingerly before her ball and then sole and finally the soft heel. Her bare foot felt something sticky on the floor. Her entire body shivered with revulsion. She simply didn't want to know what it was and quickly lifted her foot off the stickiness.

Stepping back to the cold floor she now imagined all the yucky things that must be under her feet. She recalled her fantasies in a flash. In her mind the stain was dried semen from some dirty man.

"I want you to wear this tonight." He smiled and reached into the open top and pulled out a single flimsy wad of fabric.

She took it from his hand and unfurled it. It was a sluttish little caricature of a cocktail dress. Electric blue and shimmering, it was deeply cut in front nearly to the crotch with a matching cut at the back. She simply knew it would be at least one-size too tight and so short that if it hung low enough to conceal her lowest dangle of her pussy's lips it would be shocking.

"You will sit in the chair and masturbate until the film is over," he said coldly, "with the door open." He looked over her naked body, settling his gaze at her crotch, "and no longer than the movie!"

Her eyes opened wider and her face felt as if it might be going pale.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said softly.

"You will then go out and shop for a movie that will get me in the mood to fuck you in the way you feel you deserve," he continued in a flat voice, "you will not need any money, merely lift your dress and show him your wet cunt when he asks."

She nodded her understanding.

"I will be waiting in your car," he said calmly, and proceeded to walk away.

She felt almost sick as she imagined the dirty perverts that have sat here and jerked off. That chair has seen so many filthy asses! "God," she thought, "it's so fucking nasty."

Slowly she lowered herself and sat on the chair and felt the cold plastic on her bare ass. She sat just on the edge with her cheeks so her pussy's lips did not touch the chair. She felt truly humiliated. The feeling was both frightening and exciting.

With her legs open and her naked body facing the open door she was terrified some stranger would soon wander over for her show. She shivered again with fright, but her pussy now burned almost volcanic hot and she literally dripped with anticipation.

Her hand went directly to her lips and the warm wet open hole. She began to masturbate, dipping her fingers into the hole and teasing her lips' edges. Behind her the movie played on; a woman masturbated too, moaning and audibly finger fucking herself.

Slowly she circled her swollen sensitive clitoris, rubbing her lips with her fingers as she brushed at her clit with her thumb, hoping to force her climax that seemed ever so near. Everything she had experienced so far had made her desperate for her orgasm. Remembering this night would fuel her masturbation for months.

She heard his footsteps down the hall and the door opening and closing again.

Michael walked out and stood before the clerk behind the counter.

"You have done everything perfectly," he said with a joyous lift in his voice that matched his smile.

Michael pulled out his money clip and peeled off a crisp new One Hundred Dollar Bill.

"You already paid to rent the whole theater Michael."

"A tip," he laughed, "and for her purchase."

"You're really making her do that?"

Michael winked at him. "The rest of your tip my good man," he smiled.

"You are one sick fuck buddy."

"Just try to do it so no one else really sees, but not so she knows."

"Got it," he laughed to himself.

"And don't let her stay in there more than another five minutes." Michael looked at his watch. "She should be hearing that loud masturbation scene about now."

"Whatever you want," the clerk grinned.

"Good night kind Sir!" He mockingly added in a faux English accent as he waived his hand.

Elaine was getting so close with ever gyration of her hand. She fondled her tit and tugged at her swollen hard nipple, switching from one to the other as she needed just a little more sensation to get off.

It went silent. "Fuck!" She whispered to herself. Her hands reluctant to stop, she clenched her teeth: "You fucking asshole!"

The only thing to do was to leave immediately. Her hands retracted from her sensitive places and she felt her fingers damp with her juices. She could smell herself, the animal scent of arousal, lust and anticipation for a denied orgasm.

"You want me desperate to fuck," she thought, her lips almost forming the words.

She raised herself from the chair, her back ached and her legs felt weak from the awkward position. Standing naked she took the dress from the back of the chair and put it on. As she assumed, it was almost skin tight and barely covered anything. In fact what it concealed seemed more exposed because the eye was drawn to the obvious naked flesh there, any movement ant she exposed her body in flashes.

"How am I supposed to bend down in this," she thought. "Shopping will give every guy a chance to see my wet pussy or my ass."

Walking down the hall her bare feet felt like magnets for whatever grime was there. She prayed that mop had been used recently.

It took no time at all for the one customer to sort of follow her around. He stayed a respectful distance but she knew he was peeking at her every movement.

Mortified, yet deeply aroused, she began to bend at the waist instead of her knees. She wanted this random stranger to see what a whore she was. It sent shivers from her hard poking out nipples to her warm damp cunt. She knew what video to find.

"Will this be all," said the clerk as his eyes never left the deep cleavage of her top.

"Yes," she said almost proudly.

"That will be," he paused, he looked around, the customer was still behind her but would not see, "a nice look at your snatch."

Elaine had to lift her arms a little to reach the bottom edge and she lifted the whole dress to her waist, exposing her bare ass to the stranger and her "snatch" to the clerk.

"Wow," he said as his eyes got big.

Quickly he placed the movie in a plain black plastic bag and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she said with all her pride and let go of her dress.

It stayed up and she strut to the door like that, using her free hand to pull it into place just as she reached the exit.

It smelled like a passing rain, each step was moist. The parking lot was rough asphalt and the tiny stones bit her delicate feet. She knew they would be black as coal before she reached her car.

She regretted parking so far away just then as another sharp pebble pained her step. Michael sat in the driver's seat, his window rolled up. He had watched her walk to the car.

She made a fist and rapped the glass with her knuckles. Slowly the electric whirl sounded as the window rolled down. The radio was playing some chamber music.

"Need a lift?"

"Very funny," she tried to sound sarcastic.

"Seriously," he grinned, "I have a hotel room nearby."

"So tonight I am a whore?"

"If the dress fits," he replied.

"Cute."

"Or is that something about a shoe?"

"My fucking feet are black!"

"Dirtier the feet," he spoke almost poetic, "the dirtier the Ho."

Author's Note: Dedicated to my muse Elaine for indulging me in the games we play. The foregoing is intended to be part of a larger story and perhaps it will be told one day. Please leave any feedback, it is always appreciated.