A Real Walk of Shame

This can't be happening. This can't be real. Those were the thoughts that played through Elana'a head as the man led her out of the shop. Her body was pale, her limbs felt weak. Her mouth was dry, and she was shaking in shock and squirming in humiliation. The crowd outside had waited for her. In fact, it had grown even larger. She swore, wide-eyed, when she saw many people she knew, people she recognised. They were taking photos, cameras flashing even as she emerged. She tried to writhe back, but the man tugged once on the chains, and Elana staggered forwards, overcome by the wave of stimulation applied between her legs. She moaned, oh god, was it really coming to this? But it was, it really was. In spite of all the times she had imagined it, no matter how often she had included it in her fantasies, she never could have imagined what it would really feel like.

Elana Richards was led by chains, the chains connecting to piercings in her nipples and clitoris, they pulled on her, forcing her to walk behind her tormentor. Her hands were bound behind her back. She was totally exposed, the cold air played across her skin, raising goosebumps, cameras flashed, catching images of her humiliation. She wanted to scream and shy away, but her chains would not allow it, and she knew that her clitoris in particular was being held hostage by this binding. It was warm, hot to the touch and engorged in spite of her best efforts. Arousal pumped through her, part of the direct stimulation of her sex organs, The piercing that had been given to her was extremely potent, rubbing against her inner self with each step she took, so that not only was she forcibly pleasured as the chain pulled on it, and dragged her forwards, but her own motions added to the humiliation. She was tormenting herself, in a way, though only because she was being **** forward.

Oh god. She thought, the pressure constant, forcing her to walk into the crowd. Oh god, they can all see me. They can all see everything. She was hyperventilating, feeling the air filling her lungs and exiting far too quickly to be really used. Her skin tingled, the place where the cuffs bound her itched, her heart hammered. She wanted to sink into the ground, to cover herself, to plead with the people to turn away.

She did none of these things. The crowd parted for her, but not by much. She could feel them looking at her, hungry eyes gazing at her, taking in every inch of her naked body. She was being judged and measured, **** to walk like a **** to the market. She didn't like it, not at all, yet she was aroused by it in spite of herself. A sort of dark passion had caught her up, and she was helpless to resist. She could feel the crowd as if it were one being, the pressure of so many eyes on her body was like drowning in a sea of judgement. People talked as she passed, pointing to her, laughing or joking. One guy said that he would have loved to own her for a day. A woman shot her a dirty look as her boyfriend was distracted by Elana's body. Helpless, Elana endured it. One step in front of the other was the only way she could move. She had to walk slowly, the ring in her clit was moving with each pace, pleasuring her even against her will. Her breaths were sharp and short, she tried to deny it, but every now and then, the man would yank the chains, bringing her stumbling forwards, and making it so that her clit ring throbbed and pulsed within her folds. She gasped and moaned, trying not to sound like she was enjoying it, but the truth was, her pleasure was building. She couldn't help it, it was simply a result of her body. The ring acting on her clitoris, the constant pressure on her nipples dragging her forward. The sense of helplessness was more total than anything she'd ever known.

Elana tried to walk straight. Tried to act with dignity, not be dragged along like some toy. But it was hard, so very hard. Her body felt hot, her breasts were showing her arousal. Her lower self was growing wet, no matter how mortified that made her. People noticed, pointed at it, some of them laughed, mocking her, or making jokes about how she was enjoying all of this. Elana flushed brightly, but could not find her voice to deny them.

Elana yelped suddenly as someone lashed out and struck her a stinging slap on the ass. The motion set her chains jingling, and her yelp turned into a half suppressed moan that drew more laughter. The man continued to pull her forwards, forcing her to stagger to keep up. Her eyes were wide, her skin was prickling. Her own body betraying her as she went. Her pussy throbbed almost painfully, her clit was a tiny nova of pleasure and pain, the ring working it constantly now, poking and prodding her with each step. Her footing was unsteady. The handcuffs and the chains were just for show, she knew. With this, she would not have been able to run anyway.

The crowd watched her, their eyes burned into her skin, made her squirm, made her want to cover herself, to shout out and say that she was not like this, that she didn't enjoy this, but she did, didn't she? At least to some extent, she did... She'd dreamed of something like this so very often, and now it was happening because of events she'd set into motion. She was enjoying it, part of her body relished the humiliation, the constant torment of her clitoris, the feeling of her nipples being ruthlessly pulled, the rest of her **** to stumble along behind.

This was the most real it had ever been. Even in this world, this was the most humiliated she had ever felt. Her whole body on display, her hands bound behind her back, everyone on the street watching, some laughing, and taking photos of her. She realised it would be all over the internet by the end of the day. Fuck, she'd never hear the end of it! And her friends would find it too... She wondered if they had any other pictures. She'd had them taken before, during other kidnappings. Never as many as this, but they existed. She wondered how many of her friends had already seen the pictures. She wondered how many touched themselves to them.

She wondered if Amy would touch herself to them.

All the while, the crowd chattered to itself.

"Who the hell is this chick?"

"Don't you know?"

"Obviously not. Why don't you tell me instead of just asking stupid questions?"

"That's Elana Richards. She's that girl. You know, the one that the government choose not to protect?"

"That's her?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck, she's actually pretty hot."

"I know, right? I never thought I'd get to see her. Looks like someone caught her, eh?"

"Making her walk through the street naked?" A female voice said. "That's just cruel. Imagine what she must be feeling."

"I don't know, she seems like she's enjoying it to me. Look between her legs."

Elana lowered her head, her hair falling over her eyes as if to block out the world. Her pussy was indeed soaking, the liquid of her arousal gently dripping down her thighs. She was moving more and more slowly now, her breaths coming in pitched gasps as her pussy burned with desire, she felt like the strength was being sapped from her body. She staggered, the chains pulled cruelly on her nipples and clitoris, and she let out a ragged moan as this proved to be the last push she needed. Elana stumbled, half falling forwards as she climaxed right in front of a hundred people. Her pussy throbbed as she tried to hold it back, horror and mortification fighting against deep, animal need. But there was no use, and a moment later, she arched her back, her mouth opening in a silent cry, her pussy twitched in the throes of release. It felt a hundred times more intense than anything she'd ever had before, and she felt something rising from deep within her. As if to compound her shame, Elana felt a strange pressure squeezing her lower self, rising up through her as if from the soles of her shoes. A moment later, there was a sense of intense relief, and she half fell to the ground, her legs spread before a puddle of liquid.

She looked at it dumbly for a moment. Her mind unbelieving. How could it be? She'd never done that before...

"She squirted!" Some crowed, bringing a mask of shame to her face. "She squirted right here in front of everyone! Can you believe that? She must be enjoying this a hell of a lot to climax without even being touched!"

Elana wanted to shake her head, she wanted to shout out, to tell them that it was the clit ring's constant attention that had brought her to this state. She couldn't, though. Her body wasn't working and she had not found her voice. She jumped as the man jerked the chains, tearing a moan from her throat with **** pleasure.

"Come on..." The man said. "We still have a bit to go."

Elana shook her head, there were tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

"P-please..." She moaned. "I can't... I can't go on... my clit is...oh god it's so sensitive.. i-it's the ring... It's moving... rubbing, and I just came so it'll be worse...."

She shivered, having to admit that in front of the crowd.

"Please let me rest. Just for a little bit."