An invitation to watch

An invitation to watch my wife

Watch my Wife

I shift in my seat a little. I am waiting and although the cameras are set up in the room, I am not sure if they are running yet or not. In fact I don’t think they are. But I am scared to assume anything. My head is a mess. A jumble of thoughts and fragments as I try to process what is going on. He has invited a select group of people to watch me. Watch us I suppose.

I am not sure what exactly they are going to watch to be honest. I also don’t know who will be watching or how many – the limitless opportunities of the digital age! I do have some ideas of course. I try not to think about it. And then I do think about it and I wonder if it is better to have a picture in my mind’s eye. I think it might calm me. So I let the picture sit. I flush at the thought, the heat moving through my body, and I sort of curl up inside, shifting a bit more then straightening myself up in my seat to try to show my best side.

I have wanted this, but not. How can you want what you don’t? But do at the same time? Oh God, I don’t know. None of it is making sense and I feel scrambled. I feel like I am slipping. I am full of contradictions and my head is all over the place.

Maybe he will tell me more when he comes in? Maybe he will reassure me some? It isn’t like I didn’t know or have time to prepare, but how do you prepare for something like this? What will they think of me? They are going to watch but what will they see? That is my fear. And he knows that. He knows that my fear of judgement and rejection lies at the heart of all of this. He knows that the thought of being seen, needy and desperate, is what drives those feelings of fear. And he will make me needy and desperate for him. And for them.

I am glad when the door opens and he comes into the room. He comes over to me and tells me to stand up, which I do. He puts his hands on my upper arms and looks me in the eye. He tells me it will be ok, that he knows I will be amazing. He tells me not to be afraid. He says that he is proud of me and that he wants others to see me. He wants them to watch and too see what he has. He gets off on sharing me this way.

The words frighten me rather than comforting me. They set me up higher than I feel I should be, leaving me further to fall. They lead me to confront the exposure of myself that is about to happen but his voice grounds me, binding me to him and I start to relax a bit. I want to be amazing. I want to be the person he sees. I want to make him proud and I want them to want me, as ridiculous as that makes me. As humiliating as wanting that is.

I can feel myself letting go. It is a conscious process in a sense: a decision. If I don’t choose to go with him, I will be left here, in this very moment, in this very spot and I will have to endure all that will happen alone. So I make the decision to believe him. To listen to his words and allow them to be true. I decide to be what he wants me to be. Be seen as he wants me to be seen and I feel better letting go of all that tries to pull me back.

He moves to switch on the camera then and asks me to smile. I do but it feels unnatural. Although I have begun the process, I have not slipped deep enough yet. My conscious mind still pulls at me questioning. What are you doing? Why are you agreeing to this? You know you are terrified. Say no now. Get out now! You know that they what you really are. Protect yourself.

But I don’t. I am falling and I can’t resist the way it is making me feel. Back and forth, between the doing and the not doing. I twist and I turn on my own thoughts and the words that he feeds me. I become somewhat detached and hear him saying good evening and welcoming people in the background, thanking them for coming. He is telling them how I am feeling, asking them to be kind, and I know my face has flamed up again. I am burning up. It feels excruciating and yet I am rooted to the spot, reluctant to move away and miss a single moment. I am caught.

I find out then what he plans. He tells them that I will undress for them and then he will inspect me in their presence. Following this, I will orgasm for them.

Oh God.


Monocrhomerotic
Monochromerotic
Wicked Wednesday

If you enjoyed this then you might want to read A humiliating display and The Humiliation Game which are also about our online adventures into online humiliation. Or to see who else is taking part in the memes above, just click on the badges to visit.

Posted in Erotic Humiliation, Throwing Caution To The Window.

21 Comments

  1. “I decide to be what he wants me to be. Be seen as he wants me to be seen and I feel better letting go of all that tries to pull me back.”

    This!

    Amazing post Missy, thank you for sharing x

    • Continue with this account? Ironically I was too humiliated to write about exactly what they would see lol. Thank you xx

  2. When I started following blogs 5 years ago I looked at about 12 repeatedly. That number went down over time and now I follow 2. Love your blog!
    Tom

  3. I don’t know if it’s possible to write like that without really feeling it. And having felt and thought over all these thoughts, not everyone will be able to express it so clearly and clearly.
    You can!
    But when he says that he will inspect you, and then you will experience an orgasm for them, it sounds like an announcement of a play in the theater. Only now the performance is painfully specific. Yes, and the only actor is ready or not. And such an impression that no one wrote the script. And if he wrote, he forgot to give it to the actor to read. Or he didn’t forget, but deliberately put him naked and unprepared on the stage, illuminated by spotlights with bare nerves, like high-voltage wires in the rain.
    I would not be able to play such performances. Few can. I think interest alone is not enough for this.

    • Thank you Lisa. I think this sort of erotic humiliation is exactly that. Being put in the spotlight. It has to be what will work for you and trigger the right response otherwise it is the wrong type of humiliation and the wrong type of hurt. Which reminds me that I meant to write about what happens when it goes wrong. Thanks for the reminder xx

  4. It takes courage to sit in that chair. Courage to be the center of attention. See the pride in his eyes when others see you as he does. Do you feel their admiration. And dare you feel it lust?

    Nicely written.

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