ISO writer for cruel humiliation story
Hannah 30
I'm looking for a cruel and creative writer to write me a story based upon my
admittedly strange sexual fantasy. I'm a 32 year old single woman. I'm an
attorney, 5'4 approximately 130-135lbs. I have shoulder length brown hair
and hazel eyes. I have this incessant fantasy about being humilated by
younger prettier women. You should know that my fantasies are extremely
reality based. I do not fantasize about being held captive in a mansion or
anything of the sort.
My fantasies revolve around almost everyday situations which include both
blackmail and humiliation type of activities. I find that when I'm
humiliated by other women in my fantasies, it really turns me on...but I do
not have any bisexual interests and do not have sex with these women.
One of my recent favorite fantasies is a situation where the younger sister
of my exboyfriend finds a compromising picture of me in his belongings....she
and her gorgeous, immature, friends pay me a visit at my office and show me a
blown up copy ready for distribution to my co-workers, they ultimately force
me to go with them to an apartment or hotel...I'm 31 now and in "decent"
shape, but not like when Iwas 21! Their motivation is the humiliation I
caused her brother when I broke up with him.
I could stand to lose 10lbs as my ideal weight is 125. I am still in
reasonably good shape. My stomach is flat, my measurements are 34b-26-35.
The extra 10lbs are in my butt and thighs...I carry it well...but admittedly,
need to start working out again. My ass and thighs shake and roll a little
when I walk. My thighs touch when my feet are together and my ass is a bit
too pronounced!
Once they have me secluded, they humiliate me beyond belief. They cruely
compare my body against theirs by measuring my thighs, weighing me, forcing
me to play stupid games...etc.(I'm looking for those who possess creativity)
I'm looking for somebody to write me a story within the above parameters,
that details the humiliation, is heavy on the dialog between all the
participants, but does not wind up sexual.
Thanks so much for your consideration!
Thanks :)
Love,
H
Mal...@bab5.psicorps.org
This is a first draft.
In the normal course of events, it probably would never have
occurred to me to write a story like this. I wrote it simply
as a writing exercise. The person who requested the story is
welcome to suggest [or make] revisions.
It's hard to judge "how cruel is cruel", and I apologize if
I've overstepped any bounds of decency or good taste (or
if someone forged the e-mail address to embarrass the "real"
hannah30). I hope you enjoy the following:
Hannah and Her "Sisters"
It was a warm spring Friday, and City U. was shut down
for Spring Break. Hannah Thurdy, 30something, on the
partner track at the firm of Barnes, Ives & Kuhn,
worked near the campus of Aolcom City's largest
university. Her apartment was located on the fringes
of City U's campus, just 3 blocks from her office.
She had two bedrooms, two cats, and no social life to
speak of since ending things with "Mr. Sensitive Pony
Tail Man, the Starving Artist" Paul Baldwin about a
month ago. Though she was alone, she was not lonely.
Sure, Paul had been a nice guy, considerate, and a
talented artist.
Things were perfectly fine (especially in the
beginning); Paul often surprised Hannah with his
creative gestures: not just flowers, candy, and
cliches, but small kindnesses like a back rub when she
needed one most, office "picnics" after a hectic
meeting, and his flattering sketches of her.
For their first month anniversary, Paul had arranged a
private tour of the Metropolitan Art Museum. He had
literally swept her off her feet that night, capping
off the evening by unveiling her portrait. Hannah
nearly fainted at the sight of her nude form
immortalized in canvas. Paul had been extremely kind
-- the painting looked more like a maiden of twenty,
rather than the woman over thirty it depicted.
However, this gesture had been the beginning of the
end. Hannah wouldn't say it, but she secretly resented
the fact that with her smallish breasts, and largish
buttocks, she did not quite measure up to the way Paul
saw her, and she took her resentment out on Paul in
cruel and subtle ways.
Where before his talent had made him interesting, now
it made him a liability for an upwardly mobile woman of
the '90's
She refused to allow Paul to display "The Maiden", and
insisted that it be buried in her closet, covered in
burlap. She taunted him, in small ways at first, but
within a few weeks, his friendly, warm smiles and
loving glances had withered. He looked haggard, and
drawn, and his creativity waned. He put down his
paintbrushes and picked up the classifieds, but was
filled with despair at the fact that his artistic
skills were not exactly marketable commodities. Whereas
before he had hope for his big break as an artist, now
he began to worry how he could ever make ends meet.
Feeling she had punished him enough, Hannah dumped Paul
with little ceremony or fanfare. "Call me when you
have a job," she had laughed as she walked out the
door.
After weeks had passed, Hannah still had tender
feelings for Paul, and she had not met anyone to take
his place, but she was too proud to apologize, or to
tell him the real reason she had left him.
Hannah's secretary Jen buzzed her. "Your 4 o'clock is
here. The college students for the arts..."
"Send them in," Hannah sighed. Her experience with
Paul had at least made her more appreciative of the
arts, which was why she had agreed to the recent
request for this meeting. Also, it was a good way to
cap off a Friday, so she could sneak out of the office
early...
Four young women entered the office. Two of them
struggled to carry in a large painting, the burlap
cover threatening to slide off.
The ringleader of the group [who seemed familiar in a
strange, deja vu sort of way] was the most intense. At
5' 6", she had striking blond hair, fiery green eyes,
and jaunty breasts that strained against the fabric of
her skimpy City U. t-shirt. She was all business.
"Hi, I'm Danielle," she flashed a dangerous smile.
Looking at the 5' 10" African American woman with the
shoulder-length hair, and pantherlike long nails, she
said, "This is Patricia."
After Hannah and Patricia exchanged pleasantries,
Danielle directed Hannah's attention to the giddy one
of the group. "This is Candy." This young woman was 5'
6", like Danielle, but was lean and athletic, with
small breasts.
"Must be a cheerleader," Hannah thought to herself as
she shook hands with the giggly girl.
Next Danielle guided Hannah to a raven-haired woman of
5' 8", whose pale skin, red lips and violet eyes made
Hannah think of Snow White or a young Elizabeth Taylor.
"And this is Lizzy."
"It's so nice to meet you all," Hannah began. "Now,
how may I help you?"
"It's really pretty simple," Danielle said. As she
spoke, the other women set the painting on the stand
they had brought with them. "We represent an artist,
who could be on the verge of breaking big, but has
instead just about given up all hope."
Hannah gave her well-rehearsed sympathy nod. "We
couldn't talk the artist out of abandoning his studio
and signing up for a tour with the merchant marines,
but he has agreed that if we can get him a show, he'll
reconsider after his current 6-month tour is up."
"Well, I'd like to help however I can, but as an
attorney I'm not quite sure what I can do," Hannah
replied, starting to direct her visitors to the door,
her mind on concluding the meeting early so she could
start her weekend.
"Well, I'm sure you can do quite a bit," Danielle
returned, blocking Hannah's access to the door.
Danielle all but forced Hannah to sit at her desk, then
stood behind her with her arm on the older woman's
shoulder.
"As you know, the art world is full of liars and
cheats," Danielle continued matter-of-factly. "As I'm
sure you'll agree," the commanding blond said, full of
meaning, "NONE of us wants to get screwed on this
deal."
Hannah's eyes were riveted to Danielle as the much
younger beauty strode around her office as if she owned
the place. "We'd like you to represent our interests as
we negotiate with the various galleries and museums to
arrange for showings of this artist's work. We'll take
care of generating the buzz -- we want you to handle
the business end."
"Well, getting a show isn't just a matter of
contracts," Hannah returned. "You have to get the
gallery owners to want to show your work. How do you
plan to do that?"
"We have a plan," Danielle returned, as her posse gave
her knowing smiles. Candy started giggling
uncontrollably until Patricia poked her in the ribs.
Hannah's lips trembled as she watched the cheerleader
fall into humiliated silence.
Danielle noted Hannah's reaction. "This is just one of
the artist's paintings. He has a lot more." Hannah
wasn't sure why this made her uncomfortable. "A LOT
more."
"We're all on our spring break. We've made up color
flyers of this painting with contact information. By
the time school starts back up week after next, every
telephone pole, construction site, laundromat, and
men's room in the area will be plastered with these
beauties in full living color. On our way out, we'll
be passing some out to your co-workers. Our plan is to
make sure that EVERYBODY in Aolcom City sees 'The
Crone'".
As she spoke, Danielle directed Lizzy to unveil the
painting. Hannah's cheeks burned at the sight. "By
the way, did I mention that my name's Danielle Baldwin?
Paul Baldwin's my brother, you old hag!"
For the first time, Hannah realized how deeply she had
hurt Paul. Where "The Maiden" had been unnaturally
flattering, embarrassing her with its kindness, "The
Crone" was cruel. It was not some exaggerated
caricature, no witch with her broomstick or her crooked
wart of a nose.
It was as realistic as a photograph, and showed Hannah
as she really was. Every wart, every blemish, every
mundane feature. Where "The Maiden" shone with
celestial radiance, "The Crone" was flat, earthy,
plain.
It wasn't that "The Crone" was unattractive. The
portrait had shoulder length brown hair and hazel eyes.
She had a flat stomach, and was in reasonably good
shape, but she could stand to lose a few pounds. Her
thighs touched, her butt was bigger than it would have
been 10 years ago.
Surrounded by the bevy of beautiful co-eds, Hannah's
humiliation was intense. She could hear the blood
throbbing in her 32-year-old veins. Her knees wobbled
with the shame.
Candy bubbled, "Neat picture, huh? It's you, isn't it?
I can tell that it's you." She pointed at the
portrait. "I used to have a mole there, too, but I had
it sanded off. Why don't you get yours..."
"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!" Hannah couldn't tell
whether she was whispering or screaming. "Y-you
can't!"
Danielle smiled. "Oh, can't I?" She pulled out a ream
of flyers, scattered them carelessly across Hannah's
desk. "Honey, I'm gonna make you famous!"
"Oh, no, Oh NOOO!" Hannah told herself this wasn't
happening.
She shook her fist. "I'm a lawyer! I'll sue!"
"Go ahead, sue. By the time your case gets thrown out
of court, 'The Crone' will be posted on every old naked
chick web page around the world. You'll be on
www.xxx.nekkid.oldmaids.com before 3 shakes of your big
old butt."
Next Hannah tried reasoning. "But why, why? What did
I ever do to you?"
The fury in Danielle's eyes shone like a beacon in the
night. "Because of you, my only brother is off on a
skanky old garbage scow throwing his life away! He is
an artist, but you've ruined him. He should be
creating beauty, not swabbing decks and whatever nasty
crap those people do..."
"Please," Hannah pleaded, "I'll give you money... I'll
do anything you ask... just please don't... please give
those back to me. I'm sorry, I'm so so SOOO sorry."
"Anything?" The way Danielle asked made Hannah sink in
her chair, her face burning red with humiliation.
"W-what do you want?"
Danielle stood thinking, wheels turning. It was clear
she had not come with a detailed plan, that she was
making this up as she went along.
"We can talk about that over dinner."
"O-o-okay."
"At your place. Come on, girls, we're going to have a
powwow with Sister Hannah over at her place..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hannah had never felt so violated as she did watching
the four beautiful women tearing through her apartment.
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest of them
all?" asked Lizzy at the antique full length mirror at
which Hannah had admired herself for hours and hours
over the years.
In gruff unison, the four co-conspirators rumbled, "Not
Hannah!" The girls laughed and laughed at their joke,
their tight young bodies and jiggly yet firm breasts
echoing the refrain.
Lizzy was struck by an inspiration. As the other girls
busied themselves with thumbing through Hannah's books,
rifling through her bureaus, and exploring the closets,
Lizzy grabbed Hannah by the wrist and made her stand
behind the mirror. Say, "Lizzy's the fairest one of
all."
"Lizzy's the fai--"
"Not yet, you stupid old woman! Wait until I ask the
question! And say it right, with feeling!"
As Lizzy assumed the first position, Hannah realized
that this pretty young thing was not wearing a bra. Her
ample bosom was so firm, so ripe, that she had not been
afflicted with the sag that Hannah had noticed herself
when she hit 30, years ago." Hannah admired the saucy
young beauty, and realized that she really was the
fairest one of all.
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the fairest one of
all?"
"Lizzy! Lizzy! Lizzy is the fairest of them all,"
Hannah replied, sincerely and with enthusiasm.
Lizzy smiled, satisfied, then she noticed some photo
albums on the coffee table. "Who's in these pictures?"
"Family, old boyfriends, stuff like that..."
Danielle dropped the copy of "Beauty's Punishment" that
she had been reading. She snatched one of the albums,
picked up a black magic marker, and began drawing
beards and mustaches on all the photos, laughing
gleefully. "Hey, you used to be much, much younger,
didn't you?" she sneered! From time to time she would
show off her handiwork to the giggles and approval of
the other girls.
She made Hannah compliment her each and every time.
"Thank you for making it better, Danielle." "You're
such a talented artist [like your great brother Paul
that I shouldn't have dumped], Danielle." "Thanks for
improving my looks, Danielle."
Meanwhile, Patricia had quickly deciphered which end of
the closet was for new clothes, and which end was for
the clothes that didn't fit any more.
"Dang! You got a big ole booty, girl!" Hannah blinked
as the impromptu quartet broke into a rendition of
"Baby Got Back".
Patricia quickly shed her own clothes, and began trying
on Hannah's. Because Hannah was so much shorter than
the Nubian Princess, her clothes were obviously too
small. Patricia probably could have made it work, were
it not for the looseness in the butts. She quickly
abandoned the slacks and skirts in favor of the
blouses. Hannah admired the firmness of Patricia's
taut buttocks, thinking to herself, "I've got to get
back to the gym."
When Lizzy fit herself into Hannah's newest, nicest
suit, she said, "Look at me! I'm an ooold lady! I've
fallen and I can't get up!"
Candy had been raiding the fridge, without much luck.
"I'm hungry!" she pouted, her full lips glistening in a
way that Hannah knew guys liked so much. Danielle
pointed out to Hannah, "You know, you could have lips
like that with plastic surgery..."
Hannah knew the drill by now. "You're right, Danielle,
Candy has beautiful lips. I wish my lips were full and
voluptuous like Candy's." She then went on to admire
the beautiful lips of all the women present, noting how
her own over 30 lips failed to measure up.
Satisfied for the moment, Danielle polled the girls.
"Okay, what do you want for dinner?"
Lizzy: "Greek!"
Patricia: "Chinese!"
Candy: "Pizza!"
Danielle frowned, thinking.
Candy began, "I guess I could go for Chin--"
"Wait a minute! We're guests here, and Hannah's our
host. We shouldn't have to sacrifice on her account.
We'll have Greek, Chinese, pizza..." Danielle paused.
"And hoagies!"
Danielle grabbed Hannah's purse."Hannah's buying, so
we'll all order off all the menus! How's that sound?"
Hannah was never so glad to be a rich lawyer. "That
all sounds good. I like all that stuff..."
The girls laughed and laughed. Lizzy remarked, "Dang,
girl, you like eating, don't you! No wonder you've got
such a big old bubble butt!"
"Bubble butt, bubble butt!" the girls chanted.
Candy grabbed her air pom poms, and led a cheer...
"Give me a B!"
"Give me a U!"
"Give me an --- Ubble Butt!"
"Bubble Butt, Bubble Butt!"
Danielle patted Hannah's butt, watched her thighs shake
and roll. She pushed the much older woman down on one
knee. "From now on, your name is Bubble Butt! You
will refer to yourself as Bubble Butt. Say it."
"My name is Bubble Butt, Danielle." The women took
turns swatting Hannah's butt in a nonsexual way. She
was humiliated as she felt their eyes watching the
jiggles and rolls.
"How much do you weigh?" asked Danielle.
"I, Bubble Butt, weigh about 130 to 135 pounds,
Danielle."
"Yeah, right! And Clinton didn't inhale!"
Danielle put Patricia in charge of ordering the food,
sent Lizzy to the bathroom for the scales and measuring
tape.
Hannah topped out the scales at 143 pounds. Each of
the girls went in turn, with weights ranging from 98
pounds to 115. Then they measured her thighs and
taking the tape to their own thighs, showed off
the excess tape, laughing all the while.
Danielle prompted Hannah to change into her sweats.
"Now drop and give me 20!" she commanded. Danielle put
Hannah through her paces -- girlie pushups, jumping
jacks, and windmills -- until the first delivery guy
rang the buzzer.
Lizzy buzzed him into the building, then suggested,
"Hey, should we make Bubble Butt answer the door buck
naked?"
Patricia and Candy giggled, but Danielle shook her
finger. "No, that would be cruel." She glanced at
Hannah, who breathed a sigh of relief.
"After all, what has the delivery guy ever done to US?"
Danielle's eyes shown with an evil light. "Let's make
her pay with a bag over her head!"
The delivery guys were pretty cool about it -- they
seemed to chalk it up to girlish pranks. The last one
asked if this was a sorority initiation, but the girls
assured him, "No, she's just old..."
The girls didn't let Hannah eat anything except some
steamed rice and a few carrot sticks. While they ate,
the made her dance for them.
When they were finished eating, they took a moment to
examine how trashed the apartment was. "Wow, this
place is a mess!" exclaimed Patricia.
"Don't worry, Hannah can clean it in the morning."
Hannah trembled, realizing her ordeal was nearly over.
The girls were about to leave.
"And we'll all supervise."
"Whaat?!!!" Hannah exclaimed. "It's not like you can
stay here! You've had your fun, and it's time to go!
I've done what you asked."
"Oh, no," replied Danielle. "You see, when I
introduced you to the girls, I didn't give you their
last names. Bubble Butt, meet Patricia Barnes, Candy
Ives, and Lizzy Kuhn. You work for their Daddies. And
if you don't do what we tell you, when we tell you,
you're not only NEVER gonna make partner, you'll be
pounding the pavement, sister!"
Hannah gasped. "Here's the deal: we're gonna hang out
here whenever we want until you get my brother a show in a
real gallery. When I can convince Paul to stop throwing
his life away because YOU told him to 'get a job', then
we'll be done with you."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The gallery owner sighed, then closed the portfolio.
"I'll be honest with you. I can see a glimmer of
potential here. Maybe in a few years, we'd be able to
give this Baldwin a show, but not yet. Tell him to
keep plugging away, and he may get there."
Hannah could not stop smiling as she realized that she
would not be placing Paul with a gallery any time
soon...
THE END
In article <19981013205041...@ng10.aol.com>,
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