The Felicity Chronicles: My Exploits As a Humiliator

Hi, my name is Felicity. I'm only 17 years old, but in my not-so-humble opinion I have had enough interesting experiences already to justify relating them in print. I don't think I'm going out on a limb to say that some of you might find these chronicles quite titillating, especially if you have an interest in, or a predilection for, if you will, the fine art of humiliation.
 
To say I have a fondness for humiliation—with me as the aggressor inflicting said humiliation—would decidedly be a gross understatement. Nothing in life excites me more than having a trembling, blushing victim at my disposal and to have the power to force him or her to do anything I desire. Most often I like to have my victims remove some or all of their clothing. I do find that quite effective. I haven't met anyone yet who isn't embarrassed to the extreme by having to strip (or be stripped) against their will. I've also noticed, and I don't think this will surprise anyone, that when others are present, their level of embarrassment is usually more acute. And then, when they're naked and I make them do things....ohhh, don't get me started. I can tell already that I'm going to get excited just by writing these tales.
 
You probably noticed that in my title I used the word "humiliator." Some might think "humiliatrix" might be more appropriate. My older sister Julie has told me more than once, after watching me in action, that I could make a ton of money as a professional humiliatrix. She tells me that there are many men out there who enjoy having humiliation inflicted on them by a dominatrix, and that they would pay a lot of cold, hard cash for the experience.
 
I'll assume my sister is right, but I can tell you that it would never be something for me. I mean, think about it. If they are paying and are willing to have humiliation enforced on them, then that means they like it! I really don't think I could derive any pleasure unless I am imposing my will on my victim and he or she is forced into humiliating scenarios completely against their will. I can assure you that all of my victims would rather have been anywhere else than under my thumb. Thus the term humiliator instead of humiliatrix.
 
My first actual experience as a humiliator occurred on my thirteenth birthday. My victim was a 16-year-old lad who went by the name of Blondie. I mean, come on, a guy with a name like that is practically asking for it, right? Anyway, it was an absolutely amazing experience, and I'll tell you a little about it later. I have to say he has been my favorite, and I have taken advantage of my control over him on more than one occasion. I'm looking forward to telling you all about it.
 
Even though that was my first experience, I sort of had an inkling that I had this unusual inclination towards humiliation even before that. I think my sister Julie had a pretty good idea, too, because she is the one that helped set me up with Blondie as a birthday present. To this day, that by far has been the best birthday ever!
 
But I digress. I mentioned that I had an inkling about my humiliation tendencies. I remember reading a book at a young age—I want to say I was eight or nine—where in one scene the main character, a young teenage boy went skinny-dipping in a lake, and his friends played a joke on him and stole his clothes. They were laughing at him as he covered himself while begging for his clothes. I remember getting a tingly feeling all over, and even at that young age I put my hand inside my underpants and fondled myself as I read it over and over. I don't think I had an orgasm, but I do know that it felt really, really good, and it was my first memory of being turned on sexually.
 
Another fond memory was one summer when I was in the park with my mom—I think I was 10—and these high school guys were ganging up on someone, trying to depants him. They had his pants down to his knees and his shirt was riding up so I could see his underwear. Gosh, I remember it so vividly to this day. Anyway, he was screaming bloody murder and my mom yelled at them, but that didn't deter them at all. So she gave up and, thinking she was protecting me, she grabbed my arm to whisk me away. I fought like hell against her because I really was hoping to see the kid get stripped, but my mom would have none of it. So when I got home I locked myself in my room and started playing with myself again, while imagining the kid getting stripped completely naked.
 
The other times occurred over the course of a few months when I was twelve. Julie had observed how precocious I was and started confiding in me more than ever. I first heard about Blondie from her. She and her friends had somehow gained control over him. I didn't know how, and I really didn't care. Just knowing that he was at their mercy was good enough for me.
 
Anyway, as the story goes, Julie, who worked in sales at the local Victoria's Secret, was in cahoots with Blondie's sister and her friend Brenda. They brought Blondie in there, and before the poor lad knew what happened they had tricked him into passing all his clothes over to Julie, who was standing outside the dressing room. She got to see him naked and even made him walk out into the store wearing a teddy, and later just a bra and panties. And at one point he had to run out there naked to grab something to wear.
 
Now this was so much better than the skinny-dipping incident I had read about. Not only was this much more humiliating, but it was not a fictional character this time. Blondie was a real person and Julie got to be involved in his whole humiliating ordeal!
 
As much as I was enjoying Julie's account of the incredible affair, I couldn't wait to get away to the privacy of my bedroom. When I did, I immediately tore off all my clothes, jumped on my bed and feverishly masturbated while picturing everything Julie had just told me. I was a late bloomer and had not yet reached puberty, but I have no doubts that I had my first orgasm right then and there.
 
Subsequently I would often ask Julie to tell me more about this Blondie kid. I really wanted to hear all about what Julie or her friends had done to him. Much to my delight there were several stories. I think my favorite was when Julie's friend Marcia, along with a guy named Mitch, made Blondie slowly get naked in the dark auditorium during the school play. They even made him shine a flashlight on his penis. As I (gleefully) found out later, Blondie's penis isn't very big, which could only add to his humiliation. And Julie said he didn't have any hair back then, even though he was fourteen years old. Can you imagine how embarrassed he must have been? God, I would have paid big bucks to be in Marcia's place. But listening to Julie, I was able to put myself there with my vivid imagination.
 
Anyway, I guess this guy Mitch started fondling him and he made Blondie put his hand inside Mitch's pants and forced him to start stroking his penis. Word was that they got each other off—simultaneously! Can't you just die from excitement?!
 
So thanks to Julie I was able to entertain myself to the point of several more orgasms, all at the tender young age of twelve. And, as I mentioned, it was on my thirteenth birthday that Julie set me up with Blondie and I was able to have my first experience as a humiliator. I'll tell you all about it in the next chapter.

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