Humiliation & Degradation Session – By Meredith

The anticipation clawed at my nerves like a hungry beast as I waited for Master H’s arrival for our Humiliation Session. Blindfolded, I knelt in the center of my living room, obeying his instructions to the letter. Clad only in socks and trainers, I could feel the coolness of the floor beneath my knees, a stark contrast to the heat building within me.

Every sound outside – the distant rumble of passing cars, the laughter of children playing – intensified the anticipation coursing through my veins. Each noise seemed to heighten my senses, amplifying the thrill of what was to come. Every second felt like an eternity as I waited for the inevitable, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

The decision to embark on a Humiliation Session with Master H wasn’t a random whim; it was born from a deeper desire, rooted in past experiences. My previous relationship, marred by abuse and degradation at the hands of an ex-partner, had left its mark on me. Despite the toxicity of that dynamic, there was a hidden truth I could never admit: a secret thrill that coursed through me whenever he unleashed his verbal cruelty.

In the shadows of that tumultuous past, I discovered a forbidden pleasure in the degradation, a dark craving that I could never fully explore or express. Now, with Master H, it was different. Here was an opportunity to reclaim control, to embrace the humiliation on my own terms, in a safe and consensual environment. This session was my chance to delve into the depths of my desires, to confront the echoes of my past and redefine them in a way that empowered me.

I meticulously crafted a list, detailing the names I yearned to be called, the unsettling phrases I longed to hear screamed in my face, and the physical degradation I craved. My darkest desires, carefully documented to create the blueprint for my perfect session with Master H. It was a compilation of my most secret fantasies, laid bare on paper, waiting to be brought to life in the most exhilarating and terrifying way possible.

The doorbell’s ring sent a jolt of nervous energy through me, causing me to jump in place. Could I really go through with this? But then, without any conscious thought, I found myself calling out my safeword, ‘Seaweed,’ just as we had arranged. As the door clicked open, I could feel his presence fill the room as he entered.

“Remember, if you utter your safeword again, the session will promptly cease. Clear?” His authoritative voice tingled with excitement, infusing me with a thrilling sense of anticipation as I eagerly nodded in agreement.

“You pathetic slut,” his voice growled, “spread those knees apart and show me that filthy twat as wide as you can.”

The command hit me like a physical blow, but it was exactly what I craved. With trembling hands, I obeyed, parting my knees wide to expose myself fully to his scrutiny. Gripping my lips, I pulled them apart, stretching myself almost painfully wide.

“That’s it,” he sneered, his tone dripping with contempt. “You’re nothing but a filthy whore, aren’t you? Just a worthless cunt for me to use.”

His words cut through me, mingling with the thrill of degradation as I surrendered completely to his dominance.

His eyes bore into mine, demanding obedience as he towered over me, a palpable aura of dominance radiating from his every move. “Tell me what you are,” he commanded, his voice dripping with authority and disdain.

I swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze pressing down on me like a physical force. “I’m a worthless slut,” I confessed, my words barely a whisper, a mixture of humiliation and desire swirling within me.

Louder, he demanded.

“I’m a worthless slut,” I shouted this time, not caring who heard me, the neighbours be damned.

A cruel smile tugged at the corners of his lips, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he relished in my submission. “That’s right,” he purred, his voice like velvet dipped in malice. “You’re nothing but a filthy whore, here for my amusement and pleasure.”

He lifted his foot and pressed the toe of his boot against my open cunt, the pressure causing a mixture of pain and pleasure to surge through me. Despite the discomfort, I couldn’t help but moan as the rough leather grazed against my sensitive flesh. “Take it in, whore,” he commanded, his voice laced with dominance. “Fuck yourself with my filthy boot.”

You can read the rest of this session request, along with many others from Master H’s perspective, by exploring our new Patreon page.