Humiliation

"Where is she now?"

"Curled up inside the cabin wrapped in the towel. Last I saw, she was crying."

"Thanks. When you get home, send me the pics Ok?"

"Yeah. Where are you?"

"Home."

"How is she going to get home?"

"I have no idea. I have her suitcase, her purse and her clothes."

"Ok with you if I volunteer to take her home?"

"Go for it! If she fucks you, count it as a bonus from me."

We hung up. I called my brother and told him I would have some great pictures for him the next day. He and I went to a sports bar and watched a replay of the super bowl. It was nearly eleven when I got home.

Sitting on the step in front of my apartment was a woman who was still wrapped in a towel. Her hair was dry and looked like she had been thrown overboard. She had been crying. As I approached she looked up at me. I wondered what foul language I was about to hear.

"I'm sorry," she said. Her voice was soft and almost girl like. I stopped. She's sorry? For what, I wondered.

"I deserved what you did. I've been using you all along to get whatever I could from you. Now, I've been publicly humiliated. Everyone on the boat saw me naked. If a man hadn't volunteered to bring me home I would probably been arrested and I'd be in jail in Long Beach."

"Why aren't you home?"

"You have my purse, my keys, my clothes. If he had taken me home I couldn't get in. I had him bring me here."

"Oh." Her things were still in the trunk of my car. I turned and started to walk away.

"Don't leave me, please."

"I'm going to my car to get your things."

She got up and followed me. I opened the trunk, opened her suitcase and pulled her suit out from under the carpet. As I put the suit in the suitcase she said, "I will never wear it again."

I handed her the suitcase and her purse. She held the towel against her body and held the suitcase with her other hand.

"Would you like a lift home?"

"Yes. Can I get dressed first?"

"No. Fold the towel and sit on it. I want to see you naked all the way to your house."

She looked down. She put the suitcase down and folded the towel. She was nude, standing next to my car in the garage of my apartment building. I opened the trunk and put her purse and suitcase inside. I opened her door, she put the towel down and got in. I got in and drove her home. We didn't talk.

Her normal posture of superiority was replaced with the posture of a defeated woman. She didn't look out the window once. Her hands were folded in her lap.

I pulled into the parking spot behind her car and shut off the engine of my car.

"If you ask nicely, I'll carry your suitcase to your front door. That way you can wrap yourself in the towel. If you don't ask nicely, I'm going to put your suitcase and purse on the table right there and I'm leaving. The towel goes with me."

Tears slid down her cheeks. She looked at me, but not in the face. It took almost a minute before she spoke.

"I want you to come inside with me. I have no right to ask you to be nice to me. I screwed up! I am so ashamed, embarrassed and humiliated. I know now I was wrong to do what I did. Can you possibly ever forgive me?"

"Why should I?"

"I have learned my lesson! I can be the girlfriend you want me to be. You'll see!"

"Get out of my car... please."

She got out. She didn't even reach for the towel. I got out and got her suitcase and purse from the trunk. I opened her purse and handed her the keys to her apartment. I picked up the suitcase.

"You want to use the towel?"

"Yes. May I?"

"Yes."

She wrapped herself in it and led the way to her apartment. She unlocked the front door and we went inside. I put the suitcase on the floor and her purse on the dining room table.

"Take off the towel, Marta, and the sandals. Come with me." I led the way into her bedroom. I opened the top drawer of her chest of drawers. It was full of bras and panties.

"Get a trash bag, Marta. Get it now!" She ran to her kitchen. When she came back I had her open the bag and I picked up a pair of panties from the drawer.

"You told me you didn't have any panties to wear. What are these? Rags?"

"Yes, Honey. Rags."

"Good. I can use them to polish my car." Every pair of panties went into the bag. Some still had tags on them from Nordstrom's. I lifted a bra and asked, "This isn't a bra is it? You don't have any bras."

"It's a rag." All the bras went into the bag.

"Marta, go get me another bag." I took the one filled with bras and panties from her. While she was gone I put one white bra back in the drawer. She came back after I had closed that drawer and opened the next. I tied the full bag closed.

"Put the bag of rags by the front door, please." She did as I asked. The next drawer was filled with pantyhose and stockings. All the pantyhose went into the bag. Drawer by drawer I went through her things.

When I was done there were three white kitchen bags sitting by the front door. Marta had not complained or argued with me once. She had quietly cried.

We went back into her living room and I sat on her couch. She stood near me but didn't sit.

"Marta, we are going to talk. You will answer my questions with all the honesty you can. If you lie to me I am leaving and I won't come back. Is that what you want?"

"I want to be honest with you and I want you to stay."

"Sit down."

She sat right where she had been standing, on the floor.

"Why did you start going out with me?"

"Your brother is thought of as a nice guy at work and he's easily manipulated by some of the women there. I thought you would be as easy."

"Why did you fuck me that first time?"

"I saw my ex at the party and saw him squeeze her ass. I wanted that to be me. I couldn't have him but I knew I could have you."

"You often keep your eyes closed when you ride me. Are you making believe it is his cock and not mine?"

"I was. Yours is better. I still close my eyes but I'm not thinking of him anymore."

"Who told you that men exist to be manipulated? Who told you that relationships are all about getting?"

"My mother and older sisters. That's how they live."

"Are they happy?"

"Not really. Every day they are plotting how to get more."

"Would you like to be happy?"

"Yes. I think so."

"Why don't you like having your breasts played with?"

"It feels too good. A boyfriend once sucked me and I had an orgasm. I don't like letting anyone have that much power over me."

"That's the same reason you don't allow foreplay isn't it? You lose control."

"Yes."

"Sitting here, right now, who has the power?"

"You do."

"No Marta. You do. I only have power in your life that you give me. At the car, you could have taken your purse and suitcase and walked off. You could have yelled at me to get out when I started going through your things in the bedroom. Even if I lay you on the floor and fuck you right now, you have the power to give yourself to me or withhold yourself from me. You have power."

"I am afraid."

"Fear can be a good thing. In this case it might help you change your thinking. Maybe, out of this humiliation you can learn to actually have a relationship with me or someone."

"You. I want it to be with you."

"Tell me why?"

"When I was sitting inside the whale watching boat I had almost two hours to think. No one else has ever cared enough to teach me a lesson. Kenny just left. He quit calling and quit buying me things. Bart stopped calling and stopped taking me places. They didn't do anything except stop. They didn't even yell at me. You did."

"I haven't yelled."

"No. You didn't yell. You cared."

"Ok. Our relationship is going to be different from now on. When we go places we both get to pick where. If you want to go somewhere expensive, you pay half. When we have sex we do what I want and I will promise you will have orgasms too. For at least a while no more cowgirl sex. Any problem, so far?"

"No problems."

"Can you cook?" She nodded. "Then do so. I like home cooked meals. We can go out but not every date and picking the most expensive item on the menu is rude."

"Yes. No problem."

"I want you to do something for me. You might like it, you might not. I want you to shave your pubes. All the hair. If you don't want to shave it then get waxed. Tomorrow is Sunday. I will see you for dinner on Wednesday evening. You are cooking that night, here. When I arrive I want you to kiss me with enough passion that my socks melt, then I want you to show me your bald puss. Understand?"

"Yes. I'll do it for you."

I used her phone and called a pizza place. They said they would deliver in thirty minutes or less.

In twenty five minutes I got a twenty from my wallet and handed it to Marta. Her eyes went wide and she said, "Naked?"

"Yes. Naked. Think about how you have treated me for months. Blush if you want to, but answer the door naked."

I sat where I could see the front door and Marta. The bell rang and she jumped. Holding the twenty tightly in one hand she opened the door and saw that the pizza delivery was a twenty-something woman. She got the pizza and gave her the twenty. I called out, "Keep the change."

The young woman called back, "Thank you. Good night."

As we ate I asked, "When you opened the door did you notice your nipples were erect?"

"Yes."

"Were you wet, too?"

"Yes!"

"The bras and panties that are over there in the bags are things you got other men to buy you, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"Every time you put one on you think about the man who bought it. That's why they are trash. Tomorrow you are going shopping. You can buy any bras you want. You will pay for them with your money. Buy panties for when you are on your period. The rest of the time you will not wear panties. That will remind you of the way you tried to manipulate me."

"Ok. I deserve that."

"Look at the clock. It reads 7:44pm. I'm going to ask you one more question tonight. I don't want you to say anything until eight o'clock. Then you can answer the question. I'll ask the question then I'm taking the trash out. I'll be back before eight. Leave the door open. If I come back and the door is closed, I will take that as a no answer and I will go home. Once again, you have the power."

"What's the question?"

"Do you love me?"

I picked up the three trash bags and walked out. I put them in the trunk of my car, not the trash. Near the apartment where I lived was a battered women's shelter. I would drop the bags there.

At two minutes to eight I walked up to her door. Not only was it open but the screen door was propped open as well. The coffee table had been moved and a blanket spread in the middle of the living room floor. Marta was in the middle of the blanket, on her back. Her ass had a pillow under it and her legs were spread wide. Her pussy was freshly shaved and written just above it, across her belly, were the three letters "YES."

I closed the screen and the door.