My Humiliation Story No. 2

Gemma Martinelli

Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Gemma Martinelli

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Contains Adult Material With Explicit Sexual References

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.


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Party Piece

I moved to a new area, to take a new job. After three months, I didn't know many people although I had quickly become friends with a woman called M, who I first met when I had to visit the computer department of my new employer. With my lack of progress on the social front, I was beginning to think that M would be my only mate.
M and I had things in common and, over tea breaks, we shared a few secrets and we talked about our upbringings. One day she said that she was going to throw a dinner party, and invite some of her friends that she thought might find me interesting, and vice versa. She persuaded me to go along. It sounded like a good idea, although I admit I was a little nervous.
On the night in question, I arrived and was warmly welcomed into M's lovely home. Everyone else, it seemed, had already arrived; perhaps I'd got the time wrong. In any case, it felt right immediately. The atmosphere was young and, if I can describe it as such, “an intelligent happy.” It felt like I had turned up and been reunited with people I had known all my life.
I had a drink and was introduced to so many people none of whose names I can really recall. I sat down and was surrounded by some, who sat on the floor, as if I were about to read them a story. M said that we needed an icebreaker and told everyone (to my embarrassment) that I'd told her I could get my foot into my mouth. Of course, everyone then wanted me to prove it.
I agreed to demonstrate it. I took off my jeans, as it would have been impossible to bend my leg all the way otherwise. I'd taken off my trainers and my right sock. I sat down on a dining room chair and, lifting my foot to my mouth, was able to put all of my toes into my mouth. That got a round of applause. M told me to lick my foot along its length, which I did. As people watched me, I could sense my knickers getting wet, and I knew for certain that M was looking between my legs. M told me that, to prove that I was extra flexible I needed to put my toes in and out of my mouth while licking them. I obeyed.
Someone said that they didn't think I was licking properly, so M came up with an idea. She told me to stand. She took a profiterole from the table and told me to step on it with my bare right foot. To get comfortable and balanced, I took off my left sock and my top. M told me to make sure that the cream and the chocolate went thoroughly between my toes and all over my foot.
As I sat on the dining chair again, M pulled my kickers right down to my ankles exposing my glistening bush. It was then easy for her to get them off over my feet; she tossed my underwear over her shoulder like so much useless wrapping paper. It seemed only natural then for me to take off my bra and let my boobs be free. Why not! At that point I was completely naked in front of everyone. Once again, with fully dressed guests looking on, I offered my right foot up to my mouth and proceeded to lick along its length, slowly clearing all of the cream and pastry, pushing my tongue between my toes, exaggerating it a bit so that people could see, and flicking myself, getting all of my toes into my mouth.
Someone said that they thought it was all too easy and quickly produced a pair of handcuffs. M cuffed my right wrist to my right ankle, and doing as I was told, being tested, I easily got my right foot up to my mouth. As I was fiddling with my hair with my left hand M scolded, and ordered that my left wrist be cuffed to my left ankle. This too was done very quickly. I put my heels up onto the chair's seat to take a quick breather, but M wanted me to suck my left foot.
With me sat there like that, legs akimbo, my pussy thus exposed was the centre of attention. M began to push her fingers around my labia and described how it felt to everyone else. She said that her wrist action on my sex-lips felt like she was polishing a recently washed car with a very thick cloth.
M then wondered if, with help, I could get both of my big toes into my mouth at the same time. Without waiting for me to answer yes or no, two people lifted my feet (with hands cuffed to them) towards my mouth. I did, in fact, manage to get both of my big toes into my mouth. As I was held there, M commanded me to suck on myself, and to suck really hard,. While I did so, and while I was still being held firmly, she took out a vibrator from her bag and began to stimulate my clitoris. With me helpless two lads, one either side of me, began to suck hard on my nipples. With M's deft movement of the vibrator I was quick to orgasm. I began to growl towards my climax. M made me come while the lads were still holding onto me, and sucking and biting me; not letting up.
M then hit me across my vulva with the flat of her hand. Again and again, maybe as many as ten times. I felt dizzy. Next thing I knew, I was being lifted up, my wrists still handcuffed to their respective ankles, the lads having finally let go of my breasts. They all put me onto the dining room table, in its centre. Bound like that, I had no alternative but to squat, in among the food, initially my feet arched is if about to set off on a sprint race.
M announced a new game. All of the lads had to drop their trousers, some of them stripping their lower halves off completely. They stood more or less in a circle around the table, around me. M told them that, one at a time, they were going to masturbate towards me to see who could get their spunk the highest on my body. The winner would get a prize.
Being pushed forward, the first lad was a bit nervous, despite all of them having their dicks out and all slowly pumping on them. He pointed his erection at me and shot, fairly quickly, across the table. His first splat missed, but as he flinched he managed to get a bit by my belly button. M came across and wrote his initials, in lipstick, by where the semen had landed. Another lad stepped up and took ages to even look like he was ready to fire, so M told another lad to stand the other side of me. I had two pink guns on my flanks, with the tip of the troubled lad's penis looking very red. Suddenly one cock fired, hitting me just below my left breast, then the other landed some buckshot splattering midway up my ribcage on my right hand side. M wrote their initials, making the lad who thought he'd never come the leader at that point.
The other lads stepped up one by one eventually covering me in warm blobs of semen. Then the nicely toned midriff of one lad caught my eye, and he made eye contact with me; the only one to do so. I know it sounds strange, but he looked like he loved me. (I'll call him S). 
I really wanted S to be the winner. Looking at me, and with me silently willing him on, he stroked his length, up and down, showing me more and more of his helmet with each repetition, getting more and more rigid until he fired. His cum hit me on the chin, and with my tongue I was just able to lick a sticky droplet. M approached me and instead of writing his initials she French kissed me, then smeared lipstick on my lips deliberately smudging it. Then she rubbed the spunk and lipstick mixture all over me, on my face, and everywhere else. The semen was cold at that point, and clammy, and being spread out it dried quickly like a second skin on me.
It was clear who the winner was and, having just spent himself, I wondered what would be S's prize. M said that would have to wait.
I was left squatting, naked and cuffed in the middle of the table while everyone got themselves dressed again. It seemed that dinner was to be served and that everyone was to continue as if there was nothing odd. People sat down at the table. M and her friends made a big deal of passing food underneath me so much so that if someone asked M for something she would pass it under my bum through to my front, or vice versa. She made sure that on the way through the food, or at least her hand, would touch me intimately. Someone asked for some celery; standing behind me, M offered the sticks through to them underneath me. The recipient ensured that my watering cunt oozed into the celery's natural canal. The celery was then eaten, juice and all.
Unexpectedly M spanked my buttocks - just once - for not saying “thank you.” I needed to be taught a lesson. I was told to say “thank you” every time food was passed underneath me. 
To give me toes a rest I eased down so that the soles of my feet were facing upwards, the top of my feet on the dining room table. Once I'd done that, someone took some olives and squeezed them between my toes. Then they winkled them out one by one with their tongue.
M came up with another impromptu game, but first she wanted to take some photos of me, from all angles; me positioned there on the table with lipsticked initials all over me and the ever hardening spunk beginning to flake off. 
She asked for two volunteers. While that was being discussed she smeared mayonnaise on each of my breasts. When that was done, asking for help, three or four people lifted me up while M placed a vibrator upright like a lighthouse on the table. I was lowered down onto it. Not only could I not move off of the table I could not get off of the vibrator. Immediately she turned it on. I remember how it resonated through the wood so that I had vibrations inside me and all around me, from my toes to my knees, and perpendicular up through me.
The two volunteers were told that it was a competition to see who could lick my spunky mayo breasts the cleanest quickest. I remember them starting, licking furiously and me twitching with their passionate attention to detail, the vibrator doing everything in its battery power to make me come. Then someone, I don't know who, began to lick my buttocks, stroking me with what was a very long tongue from my perineum up to my anus. Then fingers flicked me between my holes. M pushed them out of the way and spanked me with a rolled-up newspaper. Naturally, I came screaming. I leant forward, the vibrator entering me further touching my cervix.
M decided that it was time for me to be released. The cuffs were quickly removed and I hauled my, by now, heavy body onto one of the chairs. The vibrator now sounding very sorry for itself flopped out of me and hit the table. My pussy was soaking. I couldn't see my clothes anywhere, but it was a relief to be able to sit.
The doorbell rang, which made me jump, but it was only a pizza delivery. God it smelled good and, for being a good girl, I was going to be allowed to have some. Although I was freed, albeit flanked on my left and right by party goers, B's prize was that he was going to feed me. I was not allowed to feed myself. There were in fact two pizzas. M opened one box. Moving between me and the table, B tore off a slice of pizza and began to feed me, touching my chin and moistened lips with his fingertips. The meal was most welcome as was the glass of cold coke that B provided.
M appeared again, after she'd shared out the other pizza, and told me that before I went (hopefully the end was in sight, I thought) I should have a tour of the house. She wasn't going to take no for an answer. Before I could offer an opinion, B stepped away and several people picked me up and began to carry me; I had hands all over me. First of all I was to see the kitchen. There must have been about four people holding my limbs, and one supporting my middle, while, from time to time, somebody or other would touch my anus with their fingertips, or tweak my nipples and as they turned me and manhandled my naked body through doorways. A hand glided over my vagina opening at one point, and I could feel myself being interfered with.
Once in the kitchen, me being held horizontally, with my face and tits pointing to the ground, I was pulled first into an X-shape. While being held firmly in that position, M put a plug into my anus. There was a hole in the middle of the plug; I could feel a draft of air enter my body. Then M squeezed a large, cylindrical, battery-powered candle into the hole in the butt-plug and flicked a button. Its light came on. M made everyone sing “Happy Birthday” and then got someone to “blow out” [switch off] the candle, while making a wish. M told the person that she guessed that they wanted to see the lounge. They, of course, said “yes.” So off I was hauled to the lounge, where the curtains were open, candle still poking out of my arse, for the ritual to be repeated. This happened for all the room downstairs.
As I was being carried upstairs, head first at an angle, I could feel someone nibbling at my toes - probably “the olive guy.” Somebody was also stroking my insteps. 
I was taken into the main bedroom and placed on an armchair. As my bum was lowered M orchestrated the familiar cuffing of my right wrist to my right ankle, and my left wrist to my left ankle. The bedroom light was out but there was illumination from the landing. I angled back into the soft arm chair, my hands and feet in the sky. M switched the candle on in my butt. Then she got two more battery candles, of the same make and size, from a drawer and made me hold one upright, in my mouth, and pushed another one into my vagina. She ordered me to grip hard with mouth and cunt as she pushed me, in the chair, toward the bedroom window. She opened the curtains wide and switched on the two new candles. I looked like a sick, twisted candelabra.
Unbelievably, everyone came into the room, sat on the bed and began talking and reading by the lights that I was providing. Some even began kissing each other. B kept an eye on me, though, and at that point I would have begged him to fuck me. Take the candles out of me and fuck my mouth, fuck my cunt or fuck my arse. I willed it to happen.
After a while, as quickly as people had filed into the room they began leaving. Once the last person had gone (leaving me, M and B), M uncuffed me, and smiled as B stripped naked. M took a long look at B before leaving the bedroom. Weirdly, I had kept the candle in my mouth and held the candle in my pussy as if I were diligently holding someone's prick in there. I've no idea why.
B pulled the chair back, told me everything was OK and took the candles and the butt plug out of me. Leading me by the hand he took me to the bed and pushed me down and entered me. In reality, at that time an ant crawling across my clitoris would have made me come, so to have B's long, steady, reliable stroking with his length was practically too much to bare. I know I cried and I screamed and I eventually came, several times. At the end of the ramming, and more ramming came the fireworks of B's splattering semen inside me. I howled like a fox and bit him, he slapped me and I bit him harder. With one final push he laid on top of me; I held him close. Soon afterwards he laid to one side; his cock flipped out of me dripping spunk onto my thigh. We both laid there looking at the ceiling. I twitched involuntarily for ages like I was receiving an intermittent electric shock.
I don't know whether we slept, and it had got late, or whether everyone had left knowing that the party was over. B got up, and got dressed without saying anything. He looked back as he left the room, but didn't say anything. As I lay there for a few seconds, starkers and bruised, M came into the room with my clothes and politely handed them to me as if she were handing a coat back at the end of an evening. She helped me to get dressed and then, as she did the buttons up on my jean jacket, she French kissed me, although this time it was hotter, and more passionate and soulful than before. In a bit of a daze, I left the room unchallenged and, on reaching the top of the stairs, saw that the front door was wide open. I made my way downstairs, and pulled my jacket into me, as I left the building, to try to stay warm on what was turning into a cold night.

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