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Hey Lady Suzanne, Oh God, where do I even begin? You know how you assigned me those humiliating tasks last week? The ones that had me sweating bullets just reading them? Well, I did them all—like the loyal, pathetic worm I am—but the gym one? That was next-level disaster. I’m talking frozen meatballs in my underwear while working out. And now, I’m writing this with a red face and a story that’ll make you laugh your ass off at my expense. Please don’t stop assigning these; it’s the only way I feel alive under your control. So, I prepped like you ordered: Grabbed a pack of those cheap frozen meatballs from the freezer, stuffed them into my boxers (four of them, nestled right against my tiny dick and balls—felt like icy nuggets of doom). I headed to the gym, heart pounding, trying to act normal. “This is for Goddess Suzanne,” I kept telling myself. “Proving I’m worthless.” But holy shit, it went sideways fast. First, I hit the treadmill. The meatballs are freezing my junk, making me shiver and waddle like a penguin with a wedgie. I’m sweating bullets, trying to focus on your voice in my head: “Good little loser, show the world how pathetic you are.” But then, after about 10 minutes, I feel it—the melting. Oh fuck, the warmth from my body turns those things into a sloppy, greasy mess. My underwear is getting soaked, and that meaty smell starts creeping out. Not like subtle either—it’s like I crapped a stew in my pants. I glance down, and there’s a dark wet spot forming on my gym shorts. Panic mode: Is it visible? Oh, it is. Then comes the squat rack. I’m trying to do reps, but every time I bend down, the meatballs squish and shift. One slips out of place and wedges itself between my ass cheeks—feels like a lube-covered alien probing me. I’m grunting, not from the exercise, but from the horror. Some bro next to me sniffs the air and goes, “Dude, what the hell is that smell? Did you forget to shower after eating a meatball sub?” I laugh it off with a weak, “Uh, yeah, something like that,” but my voice cracks like a 12-year-old’s. Worst part? Midway through deadlifts, a meatball straight-up escapes. It tumbles out of my shorts leg as I stand up, rolling across the gym floor like a greasy escapee. Everyone stops. A girl on the yoga mat yelps, “Is that… a meatball? From his pants?!” And just like that, I’m surrounded. The gym trainer comes over, thinking I’m having a medical emergency or something. “Bro, are you okay? That looks like… wait, is that food in your underwear?” I mumble some bullshit about a “prank gone wrong,” but they’re not buying it. One guy snaps a pic on his phone, whispering, “This is going on the group chat as ‘Meatball Disaster Guy.’” By the time I bolted to the locker room, my boxers were a sloppy, stinky mess—meat juices dripping down my legs, making it look like I pissed myself with marinara. I ditched the underwear in the trash and drove home in shame, reeking like a bad Italian dinner. Now, my phone’s blowing up with texts from gym buddies: “Yo, meatballs? Wtf?” And all I can think is, “Thanks, Goddess Suzanne, for making me the laughingstock of the weight room.” But here’s the twisted part: It turned me on. Your tasks make me feel so utterly useless, I ended up jerking my pebble-sized dick to the memory of it all. Paid you an extra tribute for the privilege, of course. What’s next? Shoving ice cubes up my ass at the office? Sign me up. Your devoted (and now infamous) meatball sub,   Gym Loser P.S. If you ever need beta testers for your wilder Femdom ideas, I’m your guy. Just… maybe skip the public food stuff next time?

My SPH slave shared a story with me and let’s me share it. Read it and laugh with me! He says: “As pathetic as it is, it excites me that you share for EVERYONE to laugh at, and don’t hesitate to point out that I get thrilled and aroused by knowing you are laughing at it, and sharing so others can laugh and mock me for it. You know I have accepted that I am here to please and amuse you, and be grateful for what I can get.” Here goes… My last year in school, I went to summer camp for a week. It was a cluster of cabins by a lake. I was still a virgin at the time, at that age constantly super horny. I think I told you before, I had tried to have sex once, but failed. I ejaculated over the girl’s panties when she took off her dress, completely untouched. Just too excited. And that girl never wanted to see me again. We all shared cabins, 3-4 of us sleeping together in each one. There was no privacy, no single, individual toilets. After a few days, I was getting desperately horny. I needed relief so badly, that I had to sneak away to one of the outer cabins for some privacy. I sat down on a bed, pulled down my shorts and and underwear, and started to masturbate. But…within a minute, the door to the cabin suddenly opened! Three of the hot, popular girls at the camp ran in, catching me in the act. They literally caught me with my dick in hand (or…in my fingers…). My face was scarlet red. I have never been so shocked or so ashamed in my life. I wanted to just sink through the floor. They were laughing so much. They asked me if I was too horny. They called me a wanker. I was hoping they would just go away, but they wanted to enjoy the situation to the fullest. They took pictures. I was devastated. They said that if I wanted them not to tell anyone about this, or show anyone pics, I had to finish. I had to masturbate to orgasm. They wanted to watch. I begged them to let me off the hook, but they refused. They said since I was obviously so horny, I should get off. Almost crying, I started to masturbate in front of them. And when they saw me rubbing my limp little penis with two fingers, they could not believe that was how I masturbate. They laughed so much. I was dying with shame, so embarrassed that my dick stayed limp. They urged me on, telling me to get hard, so I could finish. Seeing me struggle, they decided to “help” me. One girl pulled down her shorts and showed me her panties. I somehow responded differently to the shame after that, growing semi-hard. The other two girls put their socked feet in my face and mouth when I was semi-hard and able to masturbate. They cheered me, laughing and laughing, urging me to shoot my sperm. I masturbated furiously, and was finally able to ejaculate over myself. The girls laughed and clapped their hands, and filmed it. And it gets worse… I was hoping everything was now over. But they took my shorts and underwear, and ran away, laughing. I had nothing to wear on my lower half. I had to run without pants, my sperm flowing down my legs, to my own cabin, to find a change of clothes. Can you imagine…? From that day, I got so many glances from other girls at the camp. I got obsessed about how other looked at me. I saw girls looking at me and giggling. I saw them talking, imagining it was about me. To this day, I don’t know for sure if the hot girls told others, showed them pics or the video. Those three girls were the only ones laughing and calling me “wanker” when they saw me, asking me if I had had another date with my hand, if I had forgotten my pants again, making hand signs with two fingers, “L” signs with their hands. But I kept looking for signs from others also knowing. This experience really shaped my sexuality, and it was the starting point for me to realise that the humiliation aroused me. I started to crave it. I re-lived the experience and masturbated to it, again and again.