Testimonial written by "/a" for oxy-shop.com on how he began his humiliation journey, living his fantasy supported by his dominant girlfriend.
My girlfriend enjoyed exploring her dominant side and had no objections to helping me to indulge in my kinks and fantasies. She got off on relentlessly teasing me when she had me locked in a chastity cage. She would watch my reaction when we watched BDSM videos while I was locked to see which scenarios had her desired effects. The genders of the dominants and submissives didn't seem to matter. The main idea of one person giving up complete control to another was enough. She was always looking for new scenarios to try to keep our play fun and fresh.
She started to realize that I got more turned on as I watched submissives being bound in public places or taken for a walk outside while naked and chained. I can't tell you why I liked watching those. I guess everyone has their own favorite kinks. But we both made the same comment about the subs in those videos - that sub must feel humiliated to be seen like that in public. I didn't think too much more about the scenes, but my girlfriend had other plans in mind.
The challenge was how to add humiliation to our play without endangering our "normal" lives. She wanted to introduce humiliation gradually. She knew that she couldn't simply leave me tied up in the front yard. That would have overstepped my limits in a big way. I'm really not an exhibitionist. Public play has consequences. Neither of us wants to lose our jobs or get into legal trouble for public indecency, but she thought she had a way of getting the excitement of public humiliation while limiting how much trouble we could get into.
The first stage was to set up a webcam in our playroom. I don't know if she even turned it on the first few times. But she made sure to remind me that lots of people could be watching me. She kept me chained so I had to stay within view of the camera, wearing nothing but my chastity cage. She teased me to the edge, let me calm back down, and then repeated the teasing. All the while, she talked about how I must be putting on a good show for anyone else to see. Knowing that others might be watching helped to make the scene much more intense.
Sometime after that, it was obvious that the webcam had been turned on and I was being broadcast on a BDSM website. My girlfriend showed me the chat room conversations as they were actually happening, with other users suggesting what she should do with me or what they wanted to see me do on camera. These were strangers, but they were influencing how I was going to be treated, how long it would be before my chastity cage was removed, or how much pain they wanted to see me endure while they enjoyed themselves. It had the desired effect and both my girlfriend and I got more excited as the size of the audience grew.
That continued for a while. As something becomes more comfortable and almost "normal", it seems we need to increase the intensity to get the same mental rush and excitement. So one day while I was on the webcam, my girlfriend reminded me that I really wouldn't know if anyone watching was one of our neighbors or friends. That hit me like the clichéd ton of bricks. She was right. I don't know if any of the anonymous webcam watchers were my friends, my neighbors, or coworkers. I wanted to cover myself up immediately, but I couldn't. Instead, I was stuck on display for all to see while she made fun of my caged cock.
The truth is that I have no idea who was watching. It was completely out of my control. I got accustomed to being on the webcam and eventually stopped worry too much about who was watching. My girlfriend added new twists to the scenario every now and then to throw me off guard. One day she announced that she was going to go shopping but she wanted me on the webcam so she could check in on me. I wasn't chained, but I was instructed to stay on the webcam at all times while she was out. She also encouraged me to tease myself as best as I could with the cock cage in place so I would be excited for her when she returned. I did as I was told. She called me while she was out to remind me that she was watching. More importantly, she said she let one of her friends watch with her. It was someone whom she trusted not to tell everyone in town. I was humiliated to know that someone else, a real person who wasn't an anonymous stranger, had seen me like that.
I got a wicked smile from the friend the next time I saw her. Both she and my girlfriend reminded me to be on my best behavior, or else there was no telling how many more people I know would find out about my kinks.
I'm still on the webcam on a regular basis. The friend is almost always watching. Sometimes she'll phone my girlfriend while I'm on the webcam so they can both talk about what they want to see me do. The more excited and frustrated I get, the more they laugh about my predicament. That only gets me more excited, and they know it. It's almost as though I serve to amuse two dominant mistresses, although I've never had any direct physical contact with one of them. I don't know if and when that will change. It is clear that it is my girlfriend's decision to make, not mine.
Looking back, the key to successful humiliation is to start slow and increase the intensity within the sub's limits. I suppose you could say the same about any other aspect of BDSM play - you probably started with a light flogger and gradually worked your way up to a single tail, right? It is up to the dominant to set safe bounds for the scene. It's ok to push the sub's limits but the dominant needs to know how far and how fast to push. In my case, my girlfriend found a way to humiliate me by telling others about my secret life. The only other person who knows who I am on the webcam is someone that my girlfriend really trusts. That still puts me in an uncomfortable and humiliating position, but isn't that the point?
/a
Bradley Parker
October 27, 2018
This is completely true, though I know it sounds like bullshit. It really happened.
I was wearing a thick, white, crinkly diaper, and thin track pants, and a short t-shirt.
My diaper was so loud, whenever I moved…everyone around could hear my pamper rustle. Not to mention, the way I was dressed made me look like a toddler. If you looked, the top two inches of my diaper were poking out of my pants.
So, this guy who was with me, dressed normally, took me into the Champs store on State Street. This cute guy who worked there came up and asked if we needed help. He came up in the first minute we were there. I got shy because I thought he was cute. He was masculine yet sweet, and he looked very strong and totally straight.
So, my friend had a pair of nice, silky Adidas track pants. They were 2XL.
So, I swear, he says to the salesman, “I’d like my buddy to try these on.”
“Sure, no problem.” He said, now smiling at me. But my friend wasn’t finished. He actually said, “Listen. His name is Bradley. He’s autistic and has developmental problems. His mental age is three. “
Without pausing, the cute salesman smiled at me and said, “No problem at all.” I’m red with embarrassment. I looked at the ground. It probably reinforced in his mind that I had the mind of a three year old. I looked like a shy kid.
My friend, Ryan, THEN said to the guy “These pants are 2XL.” Then he leaned closer to the guy, and didn’t whisper, but quietly said “Usually he’d take an XL. But I want him to try on the 2XL because they need to fit over his diaper.” I was totally floored. I couldn’t believe it. But the amazing thing is that the guy, the salesman, just smiled and didn’t bat an eye. “Yeah, that’s probably the right size. Okay, cmon, dude. Follow me to the dressing room.” He took the pants from Ryan and headed to the dressing room. I followed, totally humiliated. He opened a door and said “Okay, here you go. Just let me know if you need anything, I’ll be right here, buddy.” He called me buddy. He was being so fucking nice and he was trying to treat me with kindness, thinking I’m a guy with the brain of a child, who wore diapers. Not only did it not bother the guy, he actually was a total professional and treated me with respect and protection.
So when I was alone, I pulled off my pants, now in just a t-shirt and my (still dry) diaper. I quickly put on the new track pants, pulling them up over my diaper.
And, honestly, I opened the door. The guy was there, talking to another customer. He looked at me and got a huge warming smile on his face.
“Hey! Those look really nice on you!” He came over and walked around me. I knew that my diaper totally made the pants tighter around that area. He actually said, I swear to God, “Well, I can see your diaper, but it’s not bad. It’s totally cool.” I was so scared. I said “You can tell I’m wearing my diaper?” He goes “Well yes, but don’t worry, dude. No one will know. You look really good, buddy.” He was totally talking to me like I was a little boy. It was amazing, and my heart was racing. I went back to the dressing room and changed back.
The guy was amazing. He didn’t make fun of me. He didn’t laugh. He treated me with respect as an adult with developmental retardation. He was totally great, and very very nice.
This is a totally true story. I know it sounds like a lie, but I know it happened and I’ll never…NEVER forget the nice guy at Champs.