Humiliation

We’d hated each other for ages and wanted to kill each other. What I didn’t expect was to end up taking his cock all the way inside me while the car fell to pieces under us.

Every morning my grandmother woke me with a punishment I’d learned to beg for. That afternoon, her old friend arrived ready to do more than just watch.

I knew he would come crawling. What he didn’t know was how long I meant to make him wait before I let him even brush the tip of my foot.

I love the exact moment when a man realizes he’ll only touch my feet if he obeys. That afternoon, Mateo learned it on his knees, breathless.

I spent a year cleaning his house without him ever looking me in the eye. The afternoon I took off my shoes by the pool, I discovered he’d been staring at my feet for months.

Kneeling in the park, blindfolded and barefoot on the grass, I understood that I no longer made any decisions: he had the key, and I had stopped looking for it.

He asked me not to wash before I went. I thought it would be just another whim, but that night I found out how far my own shame could go.

“I want to see something new,” He said from the armchair. And I already knew exactly how I would surprise Him, even if it meant dragging Vera into it with me.

The air in the room had become unbreathable when He looked at us and said that night we had to prove how far we were willing to go for his pleasure.

We’d been at it all night, but seeing her from behind, about to step into the water, reminded me that morning had its own rules too.

I couldn’t stop staring at her boots. When she caught me, instead of pulling away, she asked if I was one of those who die to kiss soles.

I asked him to put on my heels so I’d tower over him, and on his face I knew that night he wasn’t in charge of anything.

I didn’t want her to belong to anyone else. And yet every night I closed my eyes and imagined her giving herself to men who didn’t even look at me.

She told me she had never said this out loud, that for years it had been only a hidden fantasy. That afternoon, she finally let a stranger do whatever he wanted to her.

The padlock snapped open, and before leaving the cage she knew he had returned with another woman’s scent clinging to his skin.

I could never tell them apart. One kissed me tenderly; the other tied me up and used me. It took me too long to realize there was never a mistake: they planned everything together.

When the walls fell and swords were drawn on her knights, she had only one bargaining chip left: kneel naked before the man who had destroyed everything.

His first night in cell 118 was enough to teach him he no longer owned his body, only belonged to the man in the lower bunk.

While he boiled the tea, the two men tied to the table were beginning to realize that no one would leave that living room tonight the way they had entered.

The old man at the deli had the last two bottles of the wine I needed for that night’s dinner. And he knew exactly what he was going to charge me before he let me leave.