Sexual Humiliation Starters

angstmemes:

“Don’t you look good on your knees with all that cum in your face.”
“You’re not allowed to wear underwear tomorrow when you go out.”
“Bend over the windowsill so I can fuck you and you can look outside and smile at the neighbours.”
“Spread your legs and finger yourself. Look me in the eyes so I can see your pleasure.”
“No, you’re not allowed to wear anything today. And no, I’m not closing the curtains.”
“When I count to ten, you’re going to cum.”
“You look good getting fucked… Now smile for the camera.”
“You’re going to put that inside of you and I’m going to keep the remote and give you pleasure whenever I feel like it. Maybe even tomorrow when you’re having that presentation you’ve worked so hard for.”
“Look at you all tied up with cum running down your legs… I think I’m going to keep you there for a while. Maybe show you off to my friends.”
“I want you to record yourself masturbating and then you’re going to send it to me so I can decide whether it’s good enough to put online. Now don’t disappoint me.”
“Wear this collar so everyone knows you’re mine.”
“I want you to leave the bathroom door unlocked whenever you’re in there. You don’t deserve privacy.”
“I’ve got a party tonight. I want you to be the ‘special entertainment’, if you get my drift.”
“Look at that tail. Doesn’t it suit you well, pet? I’ll feed you if you behave.”
“From now on, whenever someone asks you where you got those bruises, you’re going to tell them your Master gave them to you as a gift.”
“Now stick out your tongue so I can cum on it.”
“I’ve never seen a dick that small. Are you sure it’s even there? It’s not worth my time anyway. Get on your knees and make yourself useful.”
“Lick up the mess you made.”
“Oh look at you being all flustered. I’m sorry, but you’re not allowed to cum for another week… at least.”

otchetmissii:

      The Asset knew he was ‘pleased to see him’, as he’d heard the others use the term, yet did nothing about it, welcoming the burning feeling in his gut even if it was a little torturous. He gazed at the man, his need to please him harder when he mentioned that he hated hurting him.

      He seemed to be the only one having that thought.

      He shook his head in response to the question, bright blue eyes warm in a THANKFUL gaze he addressed to the handler. His hand dropped from the other’s jaw, tips of fingers tingling before he  w r a p p e d  his fingers around Brock’s cock, gently stroking not to cause pain, thumb brushing over the tip as his bionic hand settled against the door by Brock’s head to keep steady, eyes cast down on what he was doing, knowing he edged himself closer to the commander on purpose, feeling his own groin tense at the sight.

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otchetmissii:

      He could feel it from the thrusts Brock was giving off that he was going to be DONE soon, which only encouraged the asset to be better. His tongue kept swirling around the tip before he sucked, so so eager to please, glancing up when the other announced his peak. Suddenly his mouth was empty, head pulled away and for a second he was worried he’d done something wrong before he felt the warmth on his face, eyes closing as he waited for the commander to be done. The moan formed a small smile, eyes opening again to see the aftermath relaxation on his handler. 

      The asset obeyed immediately, moving to his feet and pulling the pants DOWN along with his underwear, settling them by his ankles. His eyes drifted down to Brock’s manhood, licking his lips to get the last bits of the taste it left in his mouth. ❝ Do you want me to turn around and bend over? ❞ he spoke, voice raw as it hadn’t been used for long, eyes returning back to the man’s face as his hand absentmindedly reached out to brush his fingers along Brock’s jaw, a sort of a mimic of the previous gentle handling.

Fingers run along his length slow, just barely touching
the hot, achey member there, trying to coax it to hardness
again.  Eyes drop to the hands pushing down clothes and
they move back up with the sound of his raw voice, a
small smirk pulling at his relaxed features.

‴you been stretched out today?‴

His hand comes up to catch Winter’s, eyes sweeping
over his face, hand closing around his.

‴I ain’t gonna fuck ya unless you’ve been stretched out today.
You know I hate hurtin’ ya.‴

His voice is a little softer now, hand bringing the soldiers
ow hand down, urging the weapon to stroke Rumlow’s
member.

otchetmissii:

      The Asset stilled lightly when he felt the TIGHT GRIP on his hair, moving slightly more obviously to let the handler pick up his pace. His mouth was wrapped tight around him, teeth hidden not to hurt him until he heard  a n o t h e r  praise. He wanted to bring Brock to the edge, hear him moan, even if he shouldn’t. Somehow, he enjoyed not being the one to break the rules, yet being the one who caused the other to go over the line. 

      Once his hair was free, the Asset leaned BACK so his lips were only around the tip, sucking hard as his hand made up for the lack of his mouth along the shaft, staying like that for a while before he took him in whole again, letting the tip hit the back of his throat for a few times before repeating the whole act ALL OVER AGAIN. 

The Asset was goin’ at this like a goddamn
race against time.  And fuck, he was making
it good even then.  The more he kept it up, the
more he was sure he was gonna fucking BURST.

Groaning, Rumlow dips his head back, hips moving
along with the rhythm the Asset set for him, just rocking
to the oddly quick beat.

‴fuck—fuck, kid….I’m gonna fuckin’ come.‴

His voice is low, his tone beginning to get harsh as he
nears the edge of his release.  That motion killing him slow.
It’s only a few more motions and Brock yanks the soldier back,
hand taking a tight GRIP of his hair.  Hand on his cock, he jerks
himself a few times, come spurting over the soldiers face in wet
streaks.  A prize for being good.

But fuck, he would have to clean this up…

Huffing and panting, Brock releases a soft moan as little
aftershocks run down his spine from the pleasure, his body
leaning back against the door.

‴Stand up.  Pants down.‴

He huffs, shifting for a moment and stroking himself to get
hard again, little bursts of pain happening from being so
oversensitive now.

‴I want ‘em down around yer ankles, along with yer underwear.‴

otchetmissii:

      The Asset was used to being treated as an IT -       a weapon, a thing, a robot at times too, lapdog even. He didn’t mind because he didn’t care; missions were the only thing that mattered. And then there were times like these. Times with Brock Rumlow where he could TOUCH and GROPE and PLEASE, give every inch required to see him content with what he was doing.

      The moan that escaped the other made him grin lightly -       he was doing very well. Soon enough, his hips were in his face, grip on his hip lightly tightening but not pushing away. He took him in, feeling the tip in his throat, ignoring his gag reflex. He continued to do as the other wished, feeling his own pants raising in excitement, yet focused on his partner in crime, tongue swirling.

Brock can’t help that low groan that escapes
him, the one that should be silenced, but he can’t
help it–he’s got his dick down the soldier’s throat
and it’s the best goddamn feeling in the WORLD.
His fingers find the Soldier’s hair again and he tugs,
keeping the man in place as his hips stutter, trying to
find rhythm.

It’s hard to do much more than what he knows–
his hips moving slow to work his dick in and out
of the others wet throat.  But he remembers that he’s
supposed to relax–let the other TREAT him.

‴F-Fuck, k-keep goin’–keep suckin’ my cock.  Fuck.‴

He moans again, head clunking back against the door
as he relaxes himself, hands falling to his sides, hips
rolling back to make the other WORK.

otchetmissii:

      Most of the time, the Asset had no choice but to shut up and listen to orders in different languages, complete missions and obey once again, let people pinch him with needles and other tools he couldn’t even name. But THIS, this was the time where he could express his want. Brock was nice enough to let him, WELCOME HIS NEEDS, praise him and pet him. Sometimes there was nothing better than that…

      Brock’s voice or purely just his moans or growls were the nicest sounds filling his ears, eager to hear more and louder, even though now they had to be quiet. The Asset felt the hand in his hair, eyes closing for a SECOND before he nodded. His bionic hand moved to the man’s hip, gentle but cold -        the Asset was aware -       that’s why he took him into his mouth  D E E P E R , softly sucking while the other hand moved to gently massage his balls. Slowly, he started to bob his head, sucking harder, picking up pace only to hear a bit more of praise, to please his handler.

Brock’s pleasure was so obviously stated, the
noise made between them so crisp, yet so quiet
for their need to be silent.  The soldier so brilliantly
carrying out his task of pleasuring the man that so
often was referred to as a handler.  He knew how to
care for this…this animal and tame his animalistic urges.

Silly, how he could think of this man on his knees as an
animal, training him like one, treating him as one, taking
in his affection so easily and allowing this…’handler’ control
his actions–his MIND.

His moan breaks through behind tightly sealed lips
and Brock curses, hips pressing at the soldiers face,
just thinking of his own pleasure versus the possible
discomfort he brings upon the animal man kneeling in
front of him.

‴That’s it–take it, kid…Show me you wan’ it.  That–
fuck, good boy. So fuckin’ eager.  Like you were made
to suck cock.‴

otchetmissii:

      The words were so gentle, stroking his soul he wasn’t entirely sure he had anymore, smile settled on his lips as his eyes grew with HUNGER. Pupils dilated when he stroke him with words once again -           it felt good, watching the way Brock’s face twitched due to pleasure, keeping their secret to themselves and alive whenever they could. The asset welcomed his thumb in his mouth, tongue slipping around it to leave it wet and warm until he pulled away.

      He nodded softly as he sunk to his knees, his hands expertly pulling his pants to his ankles before he brushed his nose  a l o n g  Brock’s cock. He glanced up to see the man’s face as he pulled the underwear down as well, blue icy hues GLUED to Brock’s as he took him in his mouth slowly, tongue swirling around, humming happily.

God, this guy was goin’ to ruin him some
day.  Someone was gonna catch him with
his pants down and his cock in the Asset’s
mouth. Those motherfuckers won’t even know
that half the time, the kid initiates it all himself.
All his goddamn fault–his fault that he had such
pretty lips, pretty eyes, and a fucking gorgeous mouth.

‴That’s it–There’s…there’s a good boy.‴

His words are quiet, but SHARP when they fell from
his lips, a sort of authority not leaving the man even
as he relaxes to the comfort of this sexual act.  One
that left him breathing hard and GROWLING for more.

A gloved hand rests atop the soldiers head, leather
meshing into his hair before he gives a sharp YANK,
showing him that he meant business–and that he did
expect the kid to work for more praise that he so craved
deep in his core.