Sirs Bitch in the Backroom

This story which follows is completely the product of the author's imagination. Any similarity to actual events is purely coincidental. This is also copyrighted material. So while you're welcome to make a personal copy for yourself, any other reproduction or reposting is not allowed without the prior written consent of the author.

Any comments or criticisms should be directed to Rafi at rafidaud69@gmail.com. While suggestions are welcomed, the five chapters of this story are already written. I would, however, consider any suggestions in future stories.

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SIR'S bitch IN THE BACKROOM

Chapter 5

For a while after i shot my massive load, i was insensate, unaware of my surroundings, scarcely conscious of my own existence as i floated in the aftermath of release. But slowly i came back to reality and became aware of the buzz around me, the animated excitement of the crowd of men who had just witnessed my performance. i could feel the two cocks in my pussy, still lodged deeply inside of me but now almost quiescent as they slowly softened after their own explosive orgasms. i lay pinned between the two bodies of my former friends, all three of us slick with sweat, the smell of the fuckers and the fucked merging into a single aroma of spent lust.

i was still in a semi-confused state when i felt one of the cocks inside my fuck-hole finally slide out of my pussy, accompanied by a dollop of thick man-seed dribbling over my swollen cunt-lips. It took me only a moment to remember: 'They barebacked me.' But that single thought served as a trigger and immediately i fully remembered what had just happened. my two 'friends' had double-fucked me and had done it raw and then had cum up my cunt - breeding me like i was their bitch. And that wasn't all. Not only had they filled me with their seed, they had made me cum, too. 'No, that's not right,' i corrected myself, 'they didn't make me cum - i asked them to let me cum. i wanted to cum. i begged them to let me cum."

And in that searing instant of recollection, my entire world fell in on me. i had let two guys bareback me even though i knew they were supposed to use condoms and then i let them seed me as if i was their bitch, when i am Sir's. And, as if that was not enough, i had cum without Sir's permission - worse than that, i had begged them to help me cum. In the space of less than half an hour i had violated virtually every one of the strictures Sir had imposed for this evening. i thought about everything Sir had done for me, everything He meant to me, and almost choked as i contemplated how completely i had let Him down, how totally i had shown i was unworthy of His efforts.

my 'friends' had laughed at me tonight and called me a 'worthless cunt,' a 'useless bitch,' a 'cock-hungry whore' who would bend over for any dick. And they had been right. i had proved that i had no worth, no use to any honorable Man who might have plans for me. All i was good for was spreading my legs in the backroom of a bar and letting other men use my body to get off - that and nothing more. And the most damning thought that occurred to me was that Sir had probably known this - that this was why He had sent me here. He knew i would fail - that i would always fail - and He had decided He'd be well rid of me.

Just pondering that last possibility made me begin to shake uncontrollably. What if Sir just kicked my ass out when He found out what i'd done? What would i do if He told me it was over? Finished? my breath became ragged and i could feel my heart racing and i knew i was having a panic attack. And i could hear my brain screaming inside my head "Do something! Fix this!" but i didn't know what to do, i didn't know how to fix it.

my mind was in such turmoil that i was scarcely aware when the second cock was roughly yanked from my ravaged cunt. Suddenly, i felt myself being pushed aside, as Todd roughly shoved me off of his body, like a soiled and unwanted condom, disgusting now that it had served its purpose. i was lying next to him on the platform when i felt him give me a second push and i found myself falling to the floor where i landed with a muffled thud. And, from up above me, i heard his caustic sneer, "That's where a worthless fuck-whore like you belongs, Bitch, on the floor, with the other garbage. Get used to it. you'll be spending pretty much the rest of your life there."

Hearing those words, contemplating my own actions, i figured he was probably right. i did belong on the floor with all the other trash that had been discarded during the night: That's what i was - trash - and i'd proved that tonight.

i stayed huddled in on myself as i heard Todd and Raphael getting dressed, laughing at how they'd fucked me, how they'd used me, how they had turned me into a cock-crazed slut who couldn't get enough dick up his pussy. Suddenly, i heard a loud voice right in my ear. "See you next Saturday, 6:00 p.m., my place, Bitch. On time, if you know what's good for you."

i could feel Todd's head beginning to back away when he added, "and clean yourself up, cunt-boy. you're disgusting." Then i heard him start to walk away, laughing with Raphael, leaving me behind like i was just a used, cum-filled rubber and, with a strangled sob i realized that that was what i was. They had simply used my cunt as the sheathing for their cocks and poured their man-scuzz into me - my whole body had served as their condom - and now that they'd shot off, they had no further use for me. i had served my purpose and i was being discarded.

But even as i realized this, i felt hands on my body. Multiple hands, grabbing me and lifting me in the air. The next thing i knew, i was being dumped back onto the platform and forced onto my back. And when someone grabbed my legs and hoisted them back into the air, back to where they'd spent countless hours already that night, i looked up to see there was still a line of guys in front of me, yet more guys who wanted to use my cunt, to use me, to get off in. And what i thought was, 'What the hell. Why not? That's all i'm good for anyway. Let them all fuck me. Let the whole goddamn bar fuck me. What difference does it make anyway? i'm just a fucking bitch and it's all i fucking deserve."

It took only a few moments for the first guy to grab a condom, slip it on, and then thrust deeply inside my cunt. As his balls banged up against my cuntholder, even i could tell my pussy was sloppy now, slack and loose from all the abuse it had seen. God only knew what it'll be like when they'd all finished with me. But i didn't even care - i didn't give a damn any more about what was going to happen to me in the backroom that night. All i could think about was Sir.

How could i make it up to Him? What could i possibly say that might convince Him to keep me as His bitch? i knew that i'd do anything - accept any punishment - anything - to earn His forgiveness, to convince Him not to kick my ass out of His house, out of His life. But i was afraid that there might not be anything i could do - that my actions had irretrievably sundered all the bonds between the two of us - and that possibility filled me with an over-arching fear and i was consumed by anger and disgust for putting myself in this situation.

How could i have been so weak? How could i have done that to Sir? There had always been a fear in the back of my mind that i couldn't live up to the standards Sir set for me - that i wasn't worthy of Him. And i'd proved that tonight. But i was willing to try, to start all over if i had to, to do anything if only Sir would give me another chance. But what could i do? What could i do to get Sir to forgive me? That question absorbed my entire consciousness and i was scarcely aware as the guy fucking me speeded up and emptied himself into me only to be immediately replaced by another guy with another hard dick.

It was much later when i finally came back to physical reality. The first thing i was aware of was the silence. The complete silence. And it was dark - pitch black. For a moment i was totally disoriented and i had no idea where i was until the pain brought everything back into focus. my whole body seemed to ache, my jaw, my throat, my tits, my thighs, my cuntholder, my cunt - oh my God, did my cunt hurt. And the rush of pain from my deeply abused pussy startled me enough that i opened my eyes. Or tried to anyway; they seemed somehow sealed shut.

i brought my hands to my face and felt my eye-lids. There was an incrustation there, covering both eyes and as my fingers tentatively explored my face i could tell that it was everywhere, in my hair, on my cheeks, covering my lips. And, with a rush of embarrassment i realized that it was cum - dried cum - my entire face was caked with the remnants of countless orgasms sprayed onto it.

i raised my fingers back to my eye-lids and gently worked the lashes, loosening the dried sperm into individual flakes so that first one and then the other lid flickered open. But, almost immediately, the moisture from my eyes mixed with the dried scraps of man-scuzz and my eyes began to tear up as they always did when some of Sir's fresh cum dripped into them.

That single thought of Sir was enough for a tidal current of fear and despair to wash through my consciousness. God, how could i have actually begged Todd to let me cum? Obviously, my total lack of self-control just underlined why i needed Sir in my life. To ground me, to guide me, to discipline me when i failed to exercise self-discipline, self-control. All i could hope was that Sir was still willing to do that - to take the time and effort to discipline me as severely as i deserved, as i needed, so that one day i might be able to once again present myself, to see myself, as Sir's obedient bitch.

It was obvious to me that the first thing i had to do was get back to Sir and confess what i'd done. Sir should know as soon as possible how poorly I'd behaved in the backroom of The Pit, how i had proved myself anything but His obedient bitch. And then i would just beg Him to keep me, plead with Him to give me the discipline i needed, the punishment i knew, with every fiber of my being, that my conduct deserved. And, after that, all i could do was hope that Sir could see His way to continuing my training.

With that resolve firmly fixed in my mind, i forced myself to sit up, ignoring the objections of so many parts of my body that wanted nothing more than to just keep lying there motionless. i looked around the room and saw that it was virtually empty, save for two guys entangled together on a corner platform, seemingly asleep. But when i looked down at my body, even i was shocked. my body was completely covered with dried and drying cum. There was so much dried jizz on my trimmed pubes that the hair looked almost white. There was even dried cum on my bare feet. Some foot-fetishist must have removed my boots during the night, but i had no memory of that. i could only imagine how my toes and feet were used while i was out of it - how every part of my naked body had been used. Involuntarily, i shuddered.

The sheer volume of cum on my body was hard to believe. How many guys must have stood over me and jerked themselves off onto my body? How many pictures of my body dripping fresh cum from every inch must have been taken? By now, was there anyone who hadn't already seen a picture of my totally cum-covered body on the internet porn sites?

And even as i tried to process the sight of my scuzz-caked body, my nose was wrinkling with revulsion. i stank of cum. i positively reeked of it. The smell seemed to be wafting up from my body in almost visible waves. my own body odors were almost enough to make me retch.

Knowing the way i smelled and seeing the way i looked made my skin crawl and i was consumed by the overpowering need to get out of there, to get home, to get myself cleaned up, as soon as possible. i was about to scramble up and get out of the backroom as fast as i could when my eyes fell upon the box of condoms. It was empty. So, i had used them all up. That was something, i thought. Not much, but it was something. And i realized that i had to gather up the used condoms and bring them home with me as Sir directed. At the least, it would show Sir that i did something right that night.

i turned around and saw a pile of used condoms scattered just above where my head had rested for most of the night. And for a moment i just stared at them, realizing that each condom filled with ball-slime represented one guy who had fucked me during the night - one dude who had shot his load inside my cunt, who had used me like the bitch i was, who could brag to his friends the next time he saw me on the street: "See that guy? I fucked the crap out of him in the backroom of The Pit. What a total pussy."

Wearily, my entire body aching, i picked up the first one, slimy with my pussy juices, and stuck it into the box. And then the second one. And the third. And as the count rose, i found my mind trying to match the rubber with the man who'd worn it. Was this the guy who gave me that nasty pussy-spanking? Is this the one 'Grandpa' used when he fucked me? But, of course, there was no way of knowing, no way of being sure who had used which condom when he'd fucked me. At least not until i came to an empty condom.

Holding that empty condom in my hands seemed to transport me back in time and it was almost as if Todd and Raphael were back inside my pussy-hole, pounding away at my boy-twat, ravaging my cunt, fucking me raw and breeding me in front of a room filled with strangers, filling me with their cum even as i shot off my own massive load of boy-cream. And all the embarrassment and shame of that moment came crashing down on me again.

But though i felt as wretched as i'd ever felt in my life, i didn't cry again. i was done with crying. i'd fucked things up worse than I'd ever done before but now it was time to face the music and i was going to face it like a man, because i wasn't just a bitch; i was Sir's bitch. i was resolved to face what i'd done and accept the consequences the way Sir had trained me. i wanted Sir to keep training me and the best way to do that was to show Him that even though i might have totally failed Him that night, i had learned some of the lessons He'd taught me; that His training hadn't been totally wasted on me; that i could, given enough time with Him, eventually become the obedient bitch He wanted me to be and that i just wished i already was.

So i regained control over myself and continued stuffing the condoms into the box. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. 'Wait a minute,' i thought. 'There were only twelve condoms in the box.' Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. There were now nineteen condoms and the box was overflowing. my mind couldn't quite grasp what was going on until i looked down and saw that one of the condoms on top was different from the rest. And then it dawned on me. Some of the guys who'd fucked me had used their own condoms.

i didn't know whether to laugh or cry. And the thought occurred to me that, without intending to do so, i had actually matched Tony's 'achievement' in front of the CVS - i'd been fucked by twenty guys in one session. i had become the world-class whore that Sir had always said i was - and probably the whole world knew it now, too.

But, even if any lingering reputation i'd had as a 'stud' had been blown into smithereens, i still had an urgent task to perform - to try to salvage my relationship with Sir. So i swung my legs over the side of the platform and began to ease my body off of it, grimacing as i slid my still-burning cuntholder over the rough surface. And then i leaned over to pick up my leather shorts that i had slid off so many hours earlier and the boots that someone had taken off my feet.

i found my boots right away and pulled them on over my cum-encrusted feet and ankles and laced them up. But, in the dim light, it was hard to see the black shorts against the dark floor and I tried running my fingers around trying to locate them. i just couldn't seem to find them, though. Trying to keep my growing anxiety in check, i crouched down on the floor and began running my hands, palms flat against the floor's surface, all around. i moved to the front and then to the other side and then, beginning to become frantic, i moved back to the first side i'd searched. But, as much as my mind didn't want to admit it, i was eventually forced to face the obvious fact - my shorts weren't there. Someone must have snatched them.

As the reality of my situation sank in, I found myself slowly collapsing onto the floor. i was essentially naked in a bar located miles from my home. i was covered in dried cum and i stank of it. i had no money and no phone and no way of contacting anyone i knew who might be able to come and help me out. And the bar was likely to be closing soon and then i'd find myself on the street, completely slimed up, buck naked.

Any police officer on patrol who saw me would certainly arrest me for public indecency and i'd end up spending the rest of the night in a holding cell for sure. And considering the way i looked and the way i smelled, my appearance would be an open invitation for anyone with the inclination to bend me over and use me for the one thing i was obviously good for. i'd follow a long night pulling a train in a gay bar with a good old-fashioned gangbang by a group of thugs and lowlifes in the county jail, being passed around from drunk to druggie to street hustler until they'd all had their fill of me. That scenario might be the stuff of twisted fantasies but experiencing the actual reality of that scene was something that truly terrified me.

Sitting there naked on the floor of the backroom of The Pit, i racked my brain for answers but there was really only one viable way out. i had to find someone, a customer or a bartender, who would take pity on me and help me out. i knew it wasn't going to be easy to find someone like that - not the way i looked and the way i smelled right then. And i also realized that their help might not come without a price. But i made up my mind to let them do whatever they wanted to me as long as they helped me - after all, i was in no position to bargain. Besides, i'd just spent the entire night letting total strangers bitch me out, something every guy left in the bar almost certainly knew. Obviously, they'd expect a slut like me to be up for whatever they wanted to do. And i'd do it, too, if only they helped me out.

i forced myself to get to my feet. Taking a deep breath, i slowly walked towards the door leading to the front bar. As i got close i could tell from the murmur of voices that there was still a good number of customers hanging around. Part of me was embarrassed because that meant more strangers would see me in the condition i was in but another part was relieved since it increased the chances that i might find someone who i could make a deal with.

As i stepped into the brighter light streaming through the door between the bar and the backroom, i squinted my eyes and looked down. When i did, i noticed that my diclit was still sticking straight into the air. Despite everything that had happened, somehow, somehow i was still aroused, still sexually excited. How was that possible, i wondered? Was i such a complete bitch that i could go through all of what had happened to me that night and still be sexually turned-on? Was i that much of a whore? While it was hard to argue with the evidence of my hard diclit staring me straight in the face, even i was surprised by the depth of my submissiveness, of my ever-growing hunger to have my pussy fucked and fucked and fucked again. Sir always told me that i was the most natural bitch He'd ever seen and the events of that night just proved how right He was. But it was one thing for you to know the truth about yourself. It was something totally different when friends and total strangers came to the same realization.

i couldn't help but shudder as i stepped into the light and i imagined how i would look to the men in the room - stark naked, covered with dried cum, my hard diclit providing eloquent testimony of how total a slut i was. Instinctively, my hands moved forward to cover myself. But then i remembered Sir's training - i never cover myself when i'm naked. i am a bitch and bitches are always on display. Of course, this was the first time i'd ever been completely naked in public but i was sure that Sir would say that it made no difference: a bitch never covers himself, period. So i forced my hands behind my back, as Sir would expect if He were there, and i made myself slowly walk into the bar.

i was looking at the floor as Sir had trained me to do when i was in a public setting with Him. But, of course, He wasn't there to guide me and i knew it was going to be up to me to make contact with someone who might help me out. So, even as i could hear the conversational buzz dying down and could feel that everyone left in the bar was turning to look at me, i forced my head up and looked at the men who were now staring at me.

"Well, if it isn't the fuck-whore coming up for air," i heard someone exclaim as a quick glance showed me that there were maybe twenty, twenty-five customers still left in the bar. i turned to face a pair of guys standing close to me, forcing myself to look in their faces, hoping to see a sympathetic glimmer in their eyes. But all i saw was scorn and derision. They clearly thought i was scum and weren't going to bother to make any effort to hide it.

i could feel myself turning scarlet in embarrassment but i knew i had no choice but to keep searching for someone who might help me out, so i continued walking slowly around the corner of the bar, looking from face to face, seeing all too clearly just what those guys thought of me, knowing how i must appear to them - a naked, horny, cum-splattered fuck-bitch who'd just spent an entire night getting his cunt plowed but was still out looking for more cock. i'd have liked nothing better than to run someplace and hide myself but i knew that wasn't an option. i had to find someone who would help me out. i had to get home to Sir and try to make things right.

i turned the corner of the bar and looked down the long front, hoping to see someone, anyone i might approach. And suddenly i stopped dead in my tracks and it felt like my heart had stopped. There, in the center of the bar, fire leaping from his eyes, was Sir. He was there. In the bar. Waiting for me. And, just looking at Him, it was obvious that He knew what i'd done. my entire body went numb and i just stood there looking at Him, shaking uncontrollably.

An eternity seemed to pass as i looked into his eyes. And then, without any conscious thought, i dropped to my hands and knees and began crawling towards Sir. It was slow going, since i was holding the over-flowing box of condoms in one hand and that gave my crawl an awkward gait. As i slowly made my way to Sir, keeping my eyes fixed on His, i heard the men around me erupt with raucous comments, belittling me, mocking me, laughing at the spectacle i was making of myself. And even as i edged forward, i could feel my cunt gaping open between my legs, visible confirmation of every slur being tossed in my direction.

i had traversed maybe half the length of the bar when a violent spasm in my cunt made me shout out in pain. Instinctively, i glanced back at my cuntholder. It took me a moment to figure out what had happened but eventually i realized that one of the men i had been crawling past had stuck a long-necked bottle of beer up my pussy. He had stuck it in deeply, too, so that all i could see was the thick round base of the bottle. And, as my entire belly began to chill, i realized that there was beer in that bottle and the liquid was now draining into my ass.

Despite everything that had already happened to me that night, i could feel myself blushing furiously. It was so demeaning, so humiliating, to have a beer bottle stuck so deeply up my cunt as i crawled through the bar. i would have reached back and removed it, but a glance at Sir made it clear He wanted it to stay there, inside my bitch-hole, as i crawled towards Him. Stifling a sob, i returned to my slow progress, trying to block out all the raunchy and insulting comments being directed at me as i made my way to Sir.

Even as i kept my eyes focused on Sir's, i could feel my belly filling up and i realized that it had been a full bottle when it was stuck up my pussy and all of it was now emptying into me. My eyes squinched up as a violent cramp wracked my body while the cold liquids continued to flow into me. But i kept moving forward, ignoring the embarrassment, ignoring the pain, until i was directly in front of Sir.

His eyes were locked into mine. And, as usual, i felt that He knew every secret that i had; He knew exactly what i had done in the backroom; He knew how miserably i had failed to act as His obedient bitch. Even though i was trying as hard as possible to stay calm, i could feel my entire body shaking. And it was all too obvious that everyone in the bar could see it, too. A guy to Sir's left sneered, "the fucking whore is wagging his tail like a bitch in heat."

As if that comment served as a prod for Sir, He grinned and bent over me. He took the flat of His hand and brought it banging down on the end of the beer bottle and i squealed as at least two more inches of the bottle disappeared up my cunt. The tears started in my eyes and i braced myself, expecting Sir to repeat the slap and drive the beer bottle even deeper into me.

Instead, Sir grabbed the end of the bottle and roughly twisted it around inside of me, making me rear up in pain, before He started moving His hand back and forth, thrusting the bottle in and out of my cunt. Sir was fucking me with a beer bottle in front of a room filled with strangers and i just stayed there, on my hands and knees, legs spread wide apart, and let Him do it to me. i was His bitch and He had the right to use me any way He desired. i had failed Him in so many ways that night. i refused to fail Him in this.

He diddled me with the bottle for two or three minutes as the guys in the bar joked and laughed and urged Him on, telling Him to fuck the little bitch, to make the little whore suffer. And then i heard His voice above me, gruff and demanding. "Tighten your cunt, bitch. I don't want you to lose a drop."

Frantically, i tried to tighten my sphincter around the beer bottle, ignoring the agony that doing so caused me. But even as i did, i knew that i would almost certainly fail Sir. After the all-night abuse of my pussy, i was sure there was no way that i would be able to completely close my cunt once the bottle was removed. Two sharp smacks to my cuntholder alerted me that Sir was getting ready to do just that. And then, with a vicious yank, Sir pulled the beer bottle out of my cunt.

i clamped down as hard as i could on my pussy and gasped at the raw agony i felt. i literally saw stars. Though i couldn't really believe it myself, i somehow managed to force my cunt shut and even though a pair of tears trickled down my face, i managed to keep it closed as Sir straightened back up and sat down on His bar-stool.

Sir sat there staring at me. Not smiling. Not showing the slightest appreciation of what i had just gone through to meet His demands. Instead, He looked back at the bartender and said something i couldn't hear. Seconds later, a fresh beer appeared next to Him. He took a swig and then looked at me expectantly, a wicked smile suddenly crossing His face. And i could feel my eyes widen as comprehension sank in.

Before i could even react, Sir stood back up, leaned over me, and rammed the new beer bottle into my battered and bruised cunt, deeper even than the last one. And as this second bottle began to empty into my guts, it took every last shred of my self-control to keep from screaming in agony as my entire lower torso cramped up with incredible force. i wanted nothing more than to roll around the floor, massaging my stomach as the cramps just surged through my body, but i kept my position, my eyes, now overflowing with tears, still locked into Sir's.

All around me, the crowd had been driven into a renewed frenzy of verbal abuse as my body bucked and squirmed uncontrollably. i had never in my entire life felt so completely used, so completely degraded. But i held my position, as best i could, because that was what Sir wanted. That was what He desired of me. And i knew that this might be my last chance to prove to Sir that i was worthy of His training.

It took at least five minutes for the second bottle to drain itself into my cunt-hole. my belly felt immense, sagging beneath me, and i also realized that i was becoming a little light-headed as the alcohol in the beer directly entered my system. The spasms wracking me had only diminished slightly, but that was enough for me to regain some control of my body and i was no longer bucking around on the floor like a unbroken colt trying to throw off its first rider.

Sir's face had remained expressionless throughout my ordeal except for His grin when He'd rammed the second bottle up my cunt. And my eyes hadn't wavered from His face. Suddenly, He snarled, "On your feet, bitch."

Slowly, i rose to my feet, all too aware that the beer bottle was still jammed up my pussy-hole. i was tempted to reach back and hold it in, but i was afraid to do so without Sir's permission and i was pretty sure that it was not the time to ask for that. As i straightened up, the shift in position forced some of the beer inside of me back into my cunt-channel and i could feel these liquids pushing against the bottle buried in my hole. i was sure it was only a matter of time before the bottle slid out of my cunt, but then Sir stood up and reached behind my cuntholder and grabbed the base of the beer bottle. "Tighten up, bitch," He warned me again, as He began to extract the bottle from my pussy.

i did my best, but a large stream of liquids escaped my cunt and ran down my legs before i could force my worn-out cunt-lips closed. "you'll be licking that up later, bitch," Sir informed me with a sneer, as He sat back down on His barstool. He looked down at the bottle He was still holding in His hands and i found my eyes drawn down to it, too. He swirled it around a little and i noticed that it was about one-third full, now holding liquids from my stomach which had surged back into my cunt when i stood up.

i felt His eyes returning to my face and i raised my own to meet His. He was smirking now. "Open your cock-hole, bitch," He ordered. i did what He said, trying to hide the consternation i was feeling but, from the way His sneer broadened, it was obvious that i hadn't been successful. "Drink up, bitch," He ordered, with a chuckle as He emptied the bottle into my mouth.

As i stood there desperately trying to swallow as fast as i could, the crowd around me broke out into loud guffaws, watching me gulp down the beer fresh from my own cunt-hole, flavored now with my own pussy-juices and a little of the cum that Todd and Raphael had sprayed inside my boy-twat. i tried to tell myself that it didn't bother me; that i was only doing what Sir wanted and that i should never be embarrassed by obeying Sir's orders, but the heat i felt from my entire body underscored the shame i was feeling as the last drops of besoiled beer trickled down my throat.

"Lick it clean, bitch," Sir ordered, forcing the opening of the bottle deeper into my mouth. As i worked my tongue around the top of the bottle and even tried to force my tongue into the opening, the taste of my own anal channel assaulted my senses. This was something i've always been very squeamish about and Sir knew that. The fact that He was forcing me to do it was a vivid indication of just how angry He was at me and i felt my heart sink.

Finally, though, Sir withdrew the bottle from my mouth and placed it on the bar behind Him. In just seconds, that bottle disappeared and was replaced by a new one and i stiffened, wondering whether the new bottle was also going to be emptied up my cunt. Instead, with a measured movement, Sir brought the bottle up to his mouth and took a long drink. Smiling at me, He put the bottle back down on the bar. And then the smile disappeared and He was all business.

"Okay, bitch," He said in a loud voice. "Give me your report....And make sure it's loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear," He added with a gleam in His eye.

i had known, even before i had walked into the bar, that one of the most embarrassing aspects of my entire adventure would be when i had to recount to Sir exactly what i had done. As bad as it would be having to let one stranger after another fuck my cunt in a public setting, i was sure that relating what had happened for Sir's benefit would probably be even more embarrassing since i knew He would insist on me going into every detail of not only what was done to me but how i felt while it was occurring, basically making me relieve the entire experience for His personal amusement. Now, however, Sir was forcing me to relive the evening not only for His own enjoyment but for that of all the guys standing around me. i was going to have to humiliate and debase myself in front of all of these strangers and i knew there was nothing i could do to prevent it. Swallowing repeatedly, my mouth as dry as a desert, i began.

It seemed to take forever to tell my story. Before i even began, i handed Sir the box of used condoms i held in my hand; He didn't even bother to examine it. He simply took it and placed it behind Him on the bar and then turned back to me. Obviously, He was more concerned with hearing what i had to say than in checking to see how many used condoms i had acquired during the night. With a cursory nod of His head, He indicated i should begin.

i had just begun describing my entrance into the bar when Sir motioned me forward and then reached out and grasped the chain connecting my tit-clamps. Watching my eyes, He yanked hard on the chain - hard enough to hurt my tits but not so hard that i had to cry out. my tits were already super-sore from all the abuse they'd taken during the night and, from the way Sir was holding the chain in His hands, it was clear that He wasn't going to hesitate to punish them further at the slightest provocation or simply because He wanted to. With another nod of His head, He signaled me to continue..

i hadn't even finished describing my first 'customer,' as He made me refer to them, when He reached out with His other hand and began fondling my hard diclit in front of everyone in the bar. i knew i was His bitch and i knew He had every right to use my body however He pleased, but it was so embarrassing being publicly fondled that way in front of a room filled with strangers that i couldn't keep myself from blushing again. And that amused Sir. It amused Him greatly.

For the rest of my recital, He kept His one hand toying with the chain connecting my tit-clamps while the other hand alternated between working my hard and aching diclit, teasing it, making it throb with the need for release, and rubbing and kneading my bulging belly where the beer from the two bottles that had been drained into my cunt was still sloshing around inside of me.

i had just finished describing the customer that gave me the vicious pussy- spanking when He raised a finger, motioning me to stop. He made a point of looking down at my stomach, making sure that everyone who had gathered around listening to me noticed it too. "your belly is really bloated, cunt-boy," He observed archly. "you wouldn't have a bun in the oven, now, would you, bitch?"

i was just standing there, looking at Him confused, when his right hand let go of the chain between my tits and smashed into my face with a resounding 'Smack.'

"I asked you a question, bitch," He snarled as my head whipped to the right. "Do you have a bun in the oven, bitch?"

"No, Sir," i managed to croak out, as the entire crowd was convulsed with laughter. "i don't have a bun in the oven."

"So, you're not pregnant, bitch?" He asked sarcastically.

"No, Sir," i immediately responded this time. "i'm not pregnant."

"Then why is your belly bulging out like it is, bitch," He continued, giving my stomach a hard, stinging slap.

"It's because of the beer, Sir," i explained, telling Him what He already knew. "It's because of all of the beer that was poured up my cunt, Sir. It's still inside of me, Sir, and it's making my belly swell, Sir. That's what's causing my belly to swell, Sir. It's the beer. i'm not pregnant, Sir."

Hearing myself provide this explanation was so humiliating on so many different levels and my humiliation was only heightened by the amusement and glee that my explanation elicited from the crowd.

Sir didn't bother to hide His own amusement at my situation. His face took on a look of mock sympathy. "Well, bitch," He commiserated, "you probably shouldn't imbibe so much beer if you can't handle it." Then, His eyes took on a more steely glint as He continued, "I'm sure all that beer that was poured up your cunt is really aching to get out. It must really be pressing against your cunt-lips, trying to drain out of your slut fuck-hole. But it better not, bitch. It better not." As Sir delivered this warning to me, His right hand grabbed the chain between my tits and pulled hard. "It better not, bitch," He repeated. "It better not. You understand that, bitch, don't you?" He gave my distended belly another hard slap with His left hand.

"Yes, Sir," i answered through gritted teeth, understanding all too clearly. "i understand, Sir."

Sir motioned me to continue with my story and i did. But now it was virtually impossible to ignore the increasing pressure i felt on my cunt-lips from the liquids inside of me. It seemed to have increased exponentially once Sir made me focus on the need to empty my bowels, to rid myself of the beer enema. What had before been merely a dull ache, something at the periphery of my consciousness, was now center-most in my mind and the need to relieve the incredible pressure on my cunt-lips seemed overpowering. With a groan, i tried to pick up the threads of my story.

Sir let me relate my story uninterrupted as i described how 'Grandpa' used me and then i continued on until i came to my 'friend,' Todd, and his adventures with me. The moment i mentioned Todd, i could sense a noticeable hardening in Sir's demeanor and that just reinforced my certainty that Sir already knew everything that had happened. i could feel the fear surge through my body yet again.

Trying hard not to shake, i described how Todd laid on his back and made me position myself reverse-Cowboy style over his big cock. i described the incredible ass-thrashing he then gave me; how i cried like a baby and begged him to stop. Then i recounted how he forced me to fuck myself on his cock, to pound my cunt up and down on his hard dick, over and over again until my cunt became so sloppy that my hole was audibly farting on every down-stroke. Simply relating this part of my story made me blush all over again, hearing in my mind the loud raspberry farts that had filled the air of the backroom as i fucked myself on Todd's massive cunt-buster.

Sir's eyes had been boring in on me since i'd started describing how Todd had fucked me, but His left hand had never stopped fondling my diclit, keeping me on the edge of a bitchgasm. Now, though, as i began to tell Sir how Todd made me stand up and reverse the position, i noticed the grip on my diclit strengthen and i could feel myself beginning to squirm in Sir's grasp.

When i described how Todd forced me to ravage my cunt on his cock by yanking up and down on my tit-chain, Sir began to flick His right wrist with force and my tits began to flare with the same pain they'd suffered at Todd's hands in the backroom. Then, as i described how my thighs just finally gave out and i collapsed on Todd's cock and how i then felt Raphael behind me, trying to force his cock inside my already fully-engorged cunt, i sensed a noticeable increase in tension in Sir.

His eyes seemed to be piercing me to the core of my being, as i explained to Him how i begged my two 'friends' not to double-dick me but they refused to listen, how Raphael brutally rammed his cock into my cunt, joining Todd's cock already inside, and how they then both began to fuck me with a vengeance. But it was only when i mentioned my discovery that they were barebacking me that Sir interrupted.

"Excuse Me, bitch," He asked, His voice quivering in anger, "but are you telling Me you let two guys fuck you raw, without protection?"

"No, Sir," i replied, hearing the fear and pleading in my own voice, "i didn't let them fuck me raw. i mean, they fucked me raw, but i didn't want them to do it. i begged them not to do it. i pleaded with them to use condoms while they fucked me. But they wouldn't listen. They said they wanted to fuck me bareback; they wanted to breed me."

"They bred you?" Sir literally shouted into my face. "you let them breed you, you worthless bitch?"

"i didn't let them, Sir," i pleaded with Sir. "They forced me. i didn't want them to breed me. i didn't want them to shoot their cum inside my cunt, but i couldn't stop them. i tried, Sir. i really tried. But there were two of them and only one of me and i was already so tired. But i tried, Sir. i really did. But i couldn't stop them, Sir. They bred me - they shot their two loads inside my pussy."

Looking at Him, it was obvious that Sir was using all His self-control to keep from pummeling me to the floor right there in the bar. But, drawing on His incredible reservoir of self-discipline, He managed to calm down a little, though the way He was looking at me, it was obvious He was still really angry - and i hadn't even mentioned the worst part yet.

And even as that thought passed through my brain, it was as if Sir could read my mind. He looked closely at me and asked, "Anything else you'd care to share with Me, bitch?"

Now that the moment of truth had arrived, i was truly terrified. This was the worst thing i'd ever had to confess to Sir and, for a brief instant, i actually considered not telling Him about it. But i immediately rejected that option. Sir knew me too well. He'd know i was covering something up. Besides, He deserved my absolute honesty. i just hoped that He'd find some way to forgive me, even though i knew i couldn't ask for His forgiveness. Sir would be furious if i told Him i was 'sorry.' He doesn't ever want me to be 'sorry' - He expects me to fix things. So, swallowing nervously, i answered Him.

"Yes, Sir," i said as humbly as i could. "i do have something else to tell you. i came while they were fucking me, Sir."

Sir's eyes became narrow slits as He heard what i'd said to Him. But when He responded to me, it wasn't anger i heard in His voice, it was ice-coldness.

"you came while they were fucking you," He repeated. "you came. Without My permission. Is that what you're telling Me, bitch?"

"Yes, Sir," i admitted, my voice a mere whisper.

He stared at me long and hard and i could feel myself physically wilting under the cold anger of that glare. Then, biting off the words, He spoke again.

"I suppose you're going to tell Me that you tried to stop them. But they wouldn't listen. They made you cum. Against your will. Is that your story, bitch?"

i was shaking by then and i couldn't even make an effort to control it. i was so nervous that i was afraid i was going to throw-up. But i forced myself to tell Sir the truth.

"No, Sir. They didn't force me to cum. i asked them to let me cum. i begged them to let me cum. And they did."

Sir rose up from the bar stool and took a step forward and, instinctively, i took a small step backwards. There was a look of utter disbelief on His face. He leaned forward towards me and, in a low, menacing voice, asked, "Did you just tell Me that you asked your friends, begged them, to let you cum, when you knew you didn't have My permission to cum?"

"Yes, Sir," i managed to squeak out before all Hell broke loose. Even as i was confirming what i had done, Sir had balled his right hand into a fist and smashed it into my stomach, forcing me to double over in pain, driving me backwards. And as i stumbled backwards, i felt my pussy-lips finally giving way as the pent-up liquids inside my belly exploded, geyser-like, from my cunt and the beer enema began shooting out of my cunt-hole.

i managed to recover my balance before i crashed to the floor of the bar, but the violence of Sir's reaction combined with the extreme mortification i was feeling as the liquids from my twat-hole continued to spew down my legs, had destroyed any last vestige of self-respect and confidence i had manage to retain during this long night. i forced myself to straighten up until i was standing but when i walked back up to Sir my attitude was one of a totally-beaten dog trying desperately to appease its master.

"What i did was wrong, Sir," i pleaded. "There is no excuse for it. i completely disrespected You, Sir, and there can't be any excuse for that. i deserve to be punished, Sir. i deserve to be beaten, Sir. i want you to punish me, Sir. i need to be punished, Sir. Please, Sir. Punish me. Please punish me as i deserve."

"And why the Hell should I waste my time punishing a worthless bitch like you?" Sir asked disdainfully.

This was it, and i knew it. This was where i would either convince Sir to keep me or He would decide to cast me aside for good. So i invested all the sincerity of my being into one last desperate plea to Sir.

"i am a worthless bitch, Sir. i've proved that tonight. i know that now. i think too highly of myself. i think I'm somehow important even though all i am is a worthless bitch. But You can help me, Sir. You can train me so that i'm more than a worthless bitch - so that i'm a bitch You can be proud of. i know it will take a lot of work. i know i have so much to learn. But i promise You, Sir, i'll do anything necessary, anything You tell me to do, to change myself into a bitch You could be proud to own. Sir, give me one more chance. One more chance to become Your bitch, an obedient bitch You can be proud of. i promise You, Sir, i won't let You down. Not again. Not like tonight. Not ever."

i stood there shaking, looking at Sir who was staring back at me with an intensity that was almost physically scorching, even though the expression on His face remained totally impassive. i didn't have the slightest inkling of what He was thinking. But then, out of the corner of my eye, i saw His index and middle finger make two quick gestures downwards. Like a bolt of lightning, i dropped to the floor. my hands still shaking, i undid His fly and reached in and freed His Cock from the confines of His pants. Without so much as taking a breath, i proceeded to engulf His erect penis totally down my throat.

At one point in my training, i had thought that sucking Sir off in a bar would be something i'd have to force myself to do, an embarrassment i'd have to learn to endure. But that night in the bar, in the elation overwhelming me, i realized what a great honor it really was - Sir was allowing me to suck Him off in front of all these men. He was letting them all know that He thought there was something in me that was worth training, was worth keeping. i could feel a stream of tears flowing down my face as i worked on Sir's Cock like i never had before. i was so grateful to Sir that in that moment i knew there was nothing i wouldn't do for Him. Nothing. i was His, completely.

But, as the face-fuck continued and grew increasingly violent, i also realized that even if Sir had decided to continue my training it didn't mean that He had forgiven my transgressions. He had His hand behind my head and was smashing it forward to meet every thrust of His Cock down my throat and my entire face was being mashed up against his wiry pubic hair over and over again. He was raping my mouth, showing everyone in the bar how completely i was His bitch, how totally He owned me.

At times it was hard to breathe and, looking up at Sir, i could tell that He was enjoying choking me with His big dick; He was turned on by my growing discomfort; He wanted to hurt me. i told myself that after all i'd done that night, it was no more than i deserved, but as His hard dick continued to pummel my cock-hole my tears of elation slowly changed to tears of pain. And i heard the crowd of men who'd gathered around to watch me get face-fucked begin to urge Sir on, telling Him to fuck my faggot face harder, to choke me on His fuck-stick, to make the little bitch pay for disrespecting Him.

Sir needed no encouragement. He was more than capable of ravaging my cock-hole without any assistance. But the jeers and catcalls from the crowd seemed to spur Him on and soon He was fucking my face as hard as He fucked my cunt when He was in full rut. He was ramming Himself down my throat so fast that His face became a blur even though i was trying to keep my eyes fastened on His. i tried hard not to struggle against Him but at times the force of His assault and the pain it was causing me made me react instinctively to pull away, which seemed to only make Sir increase the fury of his mouth-rape.

Sir had plowed my cock-hole many, many times in the past. He was always forceful, always dominant. But that face-fuck in the bar was on a whole different level, a level that reduced me to an object, a thing whose only purpose was to serve as a conduit for Sir to achieve total release. Sir was pouring all of His anger into that fuck and i was awed by the depths of His rage even as i gasped for the random, small gulps of air Sir was permitting me.

Sir kept going at my cock-hole for what seemed like hours, though i'm sure that the growing agony i was experiencing distorted my sense of time. Every part of my face was in pain: my throat from the incredible battering it was taking, my jaws from being forced open so widely for so long a period, my nose from being repeatedly smashed into Sir's groin, my forehead and cheeks from being constantly scraped across Sir's pubes. And my entire head was ringing from repeated collisions with Sir's pelvis.

But, eventually, about the time i feared that my face had been battered beyond all recognition, i could feel the tell-tale expansion of the tube ramming up and down in my throat that let me know that Sir was approaching orgasm. And then, with one last flurry of brain-rattling thrusts, His Cock exploded within my throat and i began swallowing convulsively.

Once the spasms of His ejaculations had ebbed, Sir withdrew His Cock enough so that i could at least breathe more easily but He left it in my mouth, the crown just tickling the back of my throat. Sir was still looking down at me but instead of the raw intensity of anger i had seen earlier, his face was now almost expressionless - a picture of concentration devoid of even a flicker of emotion. And then, suddenly, i saw Him visibly relax and almost smile. Simultaneously, i felt a hot stream of liquid splatter against the back of my throat and i realized that Sir was pissing in my mouth.

Sir had never pissed in my mouth before. He had threatened it on occasion, but He knew my almost pathological aversion to body wastes and He must have felt that, even though He was totally within His rights to use my mouth as His urinal, it was an experience that would be very difficult for me to handle. Obviously, He no longer felt so constrained.

Just knowing what Sir was doing was enough to make me almost lose it. i felt so unbelievably dirty, so totally degraded that i couldn't keep the tears from streaming down my face. i had no idea how much beer Sir had drunk but the flow from His Cock became a torrent and soon, despite my best efforts, my tongue was swimming in His urine and the taste of it was overpowering all of my other senses.

As Sir continued to empty His bladder into my gullet, twin streams of yellow liquid began to escape the corners of my mouth and i could feel them dribbling down my chin and falling onto my chest. Now that it was obvious to everyone in the bar what was happening, the entire room exploded with laughter. Among the many demeaning and abusive comments directed towards me, the one that reverberated through my mind was "he's not only a cum-dump slut, he's a fucking toilet-bitch, too," and as Sir's recycled beer continued to cascade down my throat, i couldn't help but think, 'that's what i am....i'm not Sir's obedient bitch, i'm Sir's fucking toilet-bitch.'

By the time Sir's flow had ebbed to a small trickle, my entire torso had been coated with a sheen of urine and my belly was bulging again as much as it had after the two bottles of beer had been emptied into my cunt. But now it wasn't beer that was forcing my stomach to distend - it was piss, Sir's piss. And the knowledge that until i was able to empty my own bladder, i was going to be walking around with someone else's urine, someone else's body wastes, slurping around inside of me was enough to almost cause me to throw-up. i felt so defiled and degraded that i couldn't even look up at Sir when He finally extracted His Cock from my slack-jawed cock-hole.

Sir was in no mood to have to deal with my hang-ups. A vicious slap to my face brought me back to reality. Sir grabbed me around the neck and yanked my face up as He lowered His own down close to mine. His eyes were just inches from mine as He let me have it.

"bitch, you're going to learn to never disrespect Me again. I've been way too easy on you in the past, but that's all over now. It's time you learned your real place in this world. And you're there, right now. On your knees, swallowing My cum and My piss whenever I want you to. There are no limits, bitch. I own you. I own everything about you and you're going to learn exactly what that means. you are My cum-dump. you are My urinal. you are even My toilet if that's what I want. you are anything I say you are. Period. End of story."

"you cum when I tell you to cum and only when I tell you to cum. And if it pleases Me to let you go for a year without cumming, you fucking go for a year without cumming. And you say, 'Thank you, Sir, for not letting me cum because i'm only a bitch and i don't deserve to cum unless it pleases You.' Do you understand Me, bitch?"

"Yes, Sir," i managed to croak out.

"And, bitch," Sir continued, "when it pleases Me to whip you and turn you into a pain pig, you will stand there and take the whipping and thank Me for it when it's over. And if I tell you I have a dozen friends coming over who I expect you to service with your cunt and your cock-hole, you will thank Me for supplying you with the dick you so helplessly crave and you will do whatever they want, no matter how demeaning, or embarrassing, or humiliating and when they are finished with you, you will thank them for using you like the bitch-whore you are. Do you understand Me, bitch?"

"Yes, sir," i whispered.

"So," Sir demanded in His most dominating tone, "what are you?"

"i'm Your bitch, Sir," i humbly replied.

"And what do you do, bitch?"

"Whatever You tell me to do, Sir."

"That's right, bitch," Sir agreed. And then, without any warning, He spit directly into my face. "And don't you ever forget it again."

"No, Sir, i won't," i assured Him as the spittle began to run down my cheek.

"Don't you worry, bitch," Sir laughed mirthlessly, "I'm going to make sure of that. Now go clean up the mess you made on the floor.....With your tongue, bitch. With your tongue," He added as He saw me begin to get to my feet.

i knew Sir expected me to lick up the remnants of my beer enema i'd sprayed all over the floor; i had just hoped to get to my feet for a few seconds to ease the awful ache in my knees. Instead, i turned around and crawled towards the slowly drying pool of beer and, when i got there, i bent my head down and began lapping it up like a dog, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the foul taste of stale beer, now flavored with my own pussy-juices.

i had been licking the beer off the floor for maybe fifteen minutes when i heard someone approach. There had been a crowd around me when i began slurping up the beer, jeering at me and enjoying my embarrassment but, after watching me use my tongue to clean up the floor for a few minutes, they tired of the show and eventually drifted away, leaving me alone as i slowly licked my way across the bar's filthy concrete floor. And, somehow, the realization that seeing me use my tongue to clean up a barroom floor was so unremarkable that other guys wouldn't even waste their time to watch me do it was even more humiliating than having a crowd surrounding me and verbally abusing me.

i didn't look up when i heard the footsteps approaching me because i was afraid Sir might be watching me and i didn't want to seen as slacking off on this assignment. But i couldn't help rearing up in pain as another large object was thrust into my cunt. i glanced behind me to see Sir standing there, forcing yet another beer bottle deep into my pussy-hole.

"One for the road, bitch," He sneered at me. "Drink up. We're going to be leaving soon."

And as i felt cold beer again draining into my cunt, the perverse irony of the situation made me want to cry. i had a belly bulging with Sir's recycled beer, a mouth reeking of the smell, and now a pussy-hole being filled with a new supply - and i didn't even like the taste of beer. i had always thought of it as a lower-class beverage. Well, you couldn't get much lower than i was now, so it was probably fitting that it was coming into me from both ends. i lowered my head and went back to the task of licking the barroom floor clean, trying to keep the tears in my eyes from adding to the mess I was cleaning up.

Five more minutes passed and then i heard Sir call me, "bitch. Get your cunt over here. Now."

i carefully scrambled to my feet, forcing myself to squeeze down on my aching sphincter so as not to dislodge the beer bottle stuck up my cunt, and hurried as fast as i could over to Sir, even though i knew the bottle up my cunt was making me waddle like a duck. i noticed that there were less than a dozen guys still in the bar. Sir was sitting there talking to one of the few remaining customers.

i stood there, in front of Sir, eyes on the floor, taking as submissive a posture as possible and simply waited. i tuned out the conversation that Sir was having with this other man because Sir had taught me that bitches don't eavesdrop on discussions that Men have among themselves. But suddenly i realized that Sir was now addressing me and i immediately raised my eyes to His face.

"Yes, sir," i automatically responded. It was, however, immediatley obvious from the look of frustration on Sir's face that He had asked me a question that could not be answered by a simple 'yes' or 'no.'

"I told you to turn around and bend over, bitch," Sir said, not hiding His irritation at having to repeat Himself.

"i'm sorry, Sir," i apologized, turning quickly and bending over. i felt Sir's hand grab the end of the bottle and twist it hard. i just managed to squelch the yelp of pain that tried to escape my throat. A moment later, Sir roughly yanked the now-empty bottle out of my hole. Visibly wincing, i forced my aching cunt-lips to close before any of the beer could escape my back-chute.

"That's a good bitch," Sir laughed, smacking my cuntholder hard. "Now turn around and face me."

"Yes, Sir," i replied, straightening up and turning. i could see that Sir was giving my naked body an appraising look. He looked up at me and asked, "where are your shorts, bitch?"

i felt myself getting nervous all over again. "i don't know, Sir," i admitted. "They were gone when i looked for them after my session in the backroom. Someone must have taken them, Sir."

Sir just glared at me, shaking his head in disgust. "They were expensive, bitch. And they were your responsibility. you have no money so I guess I'm going to have to take it out of your hide."

"Yes, Sir," i glumly agreed. Of course i had no money. i was Sir's bitch and he owned everything i possessed. Any time i wished to make a purchase, i had to ask Sir for the money and He always made me pay with pain. Sir enjoyed the exchange: "My money; your pain, bitch," he always said. i had expected that i would have to make good on the loss of my leather shorts, but hearing Sir confirm it made the prospect so much more real.

"Well," Sir continued, giving my body another once-over, "we can't have you walking out of here like you are." i looked down to see that not only was my body still covered with dried cum but my diclit was once again pointing straight towards the ceiling. In spite of everything that had happened to me during that seemingly endless night, my diclit was still hard.

"No, Sir. i don't think we can," i agreed.

"Well, fortunately, bitch, Dave here" and at this point Sir gestured to the man sitting on his left, "has been gracious enough to come to your rescue." Sir reached into his pocket and pulled something out. "Here, bitch. Put this on."

As i glanced down at the object in Sir's hand, i could feel my entire body turning a brilliant scarlet. What Sir was holding was neon pink and frilly, made of lace. It was a pair of woman's panties. i just stared at them, visualizing how i'd look walking down a public street wearing them. Having anyone see me like that would be mortifying beyond belief. i looked up to see the amusement in Sir's eyes.

"Well, what are you waiting for bitch?" He asked. "I told you to put your panties on."

In the past, i might have asked Sir not to make me do this. Begged him not to. But, that night, after my performance in the backroom, i knew i couldn't risk it. Stifling a sob, i meekly responded 'Yes, Sir," and took the panties from His hand.

i bent over and carefully place each foot in one of the small leg holes. It was obvious right away that they were going to be a tight fit. Slowly, i pulled the panties up my legs, trying to ignore the cackles of laughter from the few remaining customers. But then, when i finally reach the top of my thighs and i tried to fit my junk inside the lace fabric i just couldn't seem to do it. It took a few moments for me to understand, but then it hit me. The panties had no crotch. i was wearing crotchless woman's panties.

"All the way up," i heard Sir order. "Pull them all the way up, bitch."

Feeling as if my entire body has been spray-painted with liquid fire, i did as Sir ordered and pulled the top of the panties over my hips, groaning as the back strap scraped against my sore cunt-lips. And then i looked down at myself and i actually groaned out loud. i couldn't believe how gross, how truly obscene, i looked. i had a pair of Japanese clover-leaf nipple clamps dangling from my swollen tits, my belly was noticeably protruding over a pair of bright pink women's panties and my hard diclit was sticking straight out from my crotch, while the only part of my cuntholder that was not fully-exposed was a thin strip of my cunt-cleft. i was covered with dried cum and i reeked of stale beer and piss. And i was about to be taken outside where any passer-by could see me.

"Don't you look the pretty bitch," Sir jibed as virtually all the remaining customers dissolved in hysterics.

"Go stand in the middle of the room and turn around. Let everyone get a good look at you, bitch."

Almost in a state of shock, i did as Sir ordered and, when i did, i couldn't help but notice that many of the men laughing, laughing at me, were laughing so hard that tears were running down their faces. i had become an object of derision and ribald humor for total strangers. And it struck me like a bolt of lightning out of an azure sky that, from now on, this was me, this was my life. This is what i had chosen for myself. This was what it meant to be a bitch, to be Sir's bitch.

For a moment i wondered how i could have chosen this, how i could want this. But even as these doubts rose within me, i became aware of something else. i was aroused. i was incredibly aroused. my diclit was as hard as a tube of tempered steel. i was so close to cumming that even a gentle breeze might have been enough to set me off. And the clarity of my body and what i was feeling finally broke through the confusion of my mind. This WAS me. This was my LIFE. i was, and doubtless always had been, a BITCH. And Sir had chosen to take me on to make me HIS BITCH.

So what if strangers wanted to laugh at me? So what if i had to spread my legs and open my cunt whenever Sir told me to do so? This was what i was. This was what turned me on. This was ME.

For the first time since i'd arrived at the bar so many hours earlier, i felt myself relax. i finally understood why Sir had sent me there. i understood why i needed to do this - to let total strangers fuck and abuse me. i needed to see myself clearly, unambiguously, as i truly was. Not as i might have hoped i was, not as my friends may have thought i was, but as i truly was in the core of my being.

i was a bitch. Period. End of story.

And, God willing, someday i would again be Sir's bitch, Sir's obedient bitch. That was what i was meant to be. That was what i wanted. That was me. Period. End of story.

So i continued slowly turning around in front of the last few customers left in the bar, showing off my outfit, knowing it made me look like a total cock-whore, still embarrassed, still humiliated, but now better able to understand why it was important to Sir that i be embarrassed and humiliated like that in public. He enjoyed it. And that was enough for me. i was His bitch. Or at least i hoped i still was.

After letting me display myself for a few more minutes, Sir motioned me back to Him. As i approached Him, i could see that He was fingering something in His hand. And then it hit me as hard as Sir's punch to my stomach earlier. Harder even. What Sir was holding in his hand was a key.

Uncontrollably, i began to shake. i could feel the tears flowing down my face and i couldn't even bring myself to look at Sir. i came to a stop in front of Him, feeling as if my life was over; that i was as good as dead.

"Look at me, bitch," Sir ordered sternly.

Terrified, i slowly raised my head. Sir was looking straight into my eyes. And i looked back into his, pleading with him, begging him not to do what i knew he was about to do. And then, even as we stood there looking at each other i could see His hand reach out behind the collar around my neck. I heard a sharp metallic click and then, a moment later, i felt Sir's collar being removed. i sobbed audibly and it took every ounce of what little self-respect I had left to keep from collapsing onto the floor. Sir had removed His collar from my neck. i was no longer His bitch. i was completely and totally devastated. i lowered my head as despair overwhelmed me.

But then Sir reached his hand out again and, placing it under my chin, forced my face back up. He stared into my eyes with the same intensity as before but now the fires seem banked, the anger spent. And when He spoke to me, it was softly, as you would speak to a child.

"bitch," He began, "you lost your right to wear My collar in the backroom. you lost your right to call yourself 'Sir's bitch.'" Hearing those words, those words i'd dreaded hearing ever since i'd shot my load in the backroom, made me feel as if my world were truly ending. But Sir continued. "you've lost those rights...but I'm willing to let you earn them back. The question is 'are you willing to do that?'"

"Oh, yes, Sir," i pleaded. "Yes, Sir. i'll do anything, Sir. Anything."

"Anything," Sir repeated. "I want you to remember that word, bitch. 'Anything.' That's what you're agreeing to, bitch. Anything."

"Oh, yes, Sir. Yes, Sir. Anything. i'll do anything you want. Anything."

He gave me a long, appraising look. And then, with a slight loosening of His lips, He nodded. "Okay, bitch. I'll continue with your training. But, like I said, you're going to have to earn back the right to wear My collar, the right to call yourself 'Sir's bitch'. And it's not going to be easy, bitch. It's going to be hard. Really hard."

"i'll do it, Sir," i promised with all the fervor i could muster. "i'll do it, Sir. You won't be disappointed in me again. Ever. i promise You, Sir."

Sir gave me one last, soul-piercing look and said. "Okay, bitch. you're back in training. Now go take your cunt outside and wait for me. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Even as the elation of hearing Sir say He'd continue my training overwhelmed me, i realized that Sir had just ordered me to go outside, dressed the way i was, by myself. i would be standing in front of the bar fully exposed to anyone passing by. And i'd be alone. i could feel my entire body blushing all over again. Doing that was going to be so embarrassing. But i reminded myself that i had just told Sir i would do anything to earn my collar back, to earn His collar back. And Sir had warned me it wasn't going to be easy. i had to do it. i really didn't have any other choice.

So, as i crossed the floor to the door, wearing only boots, crotchless pink panties and tit-clamps, i tried to calm myself down. 'i'm a bitch and this is what bitches do,' i kept repeating to myself. But my hand was shaking as i pushed open the door and stepped into the cool night air.

Leaning against the bar, watching His bitch cross the floor and push open the front door, Sir admired, as He always did, how beautiful His bitch's cuntholder was, particularly when it was a bright pink like it was now. Once the door swung shut, Sir finally allowed Himself His first full smile of the evening. The night had gone really well. All the effort He'd put into orchestrating it had proved well worth it.

Of course, it hadn't been without its surprises and disappointments. He had to admit He was irked that His bitch had actually asked his friends to let him cum during the double-penetration scene. That was disrespectful and the bitch was going to pay for that.

And it was stupid, too. Todd and Raphael had agreed they'd keep working on the bitch's diclit until he popped off so the bitch could have begged them not to make him cum, like he should have, and he would still have enjoyed a bitchgasm. Sir would have punished him for that infraction, of course. But that would have earned the bitch a mere two weeks in chastity instead of the two months he was now going to get.

But, as Sir thought about it, He wondered if it wasn't all for the best. His bitch had been getting a little too sure of himself, all little too certain of his position as Sir's bitch. It was good to take him down a peg, to make him realize that he still had a lot to learn before he could truly call himself Sir's obedient bitch.

Besides, having the bitch in chastity for two full months would allow Sir to introduce him to the extreme embarrassment of cumming while his cock was caged - shooting a painful load without even being able to get hard. The bitch would find that really humiliating, especially when he was forced to do it in front of a room filled with Sir's friends. Just thinking about that made Sir's smile broaden into a full grin.

And because His bitch had failed so publicly, it would be easier to justify all the other punishments Sir had planned for Him. Not that Sir really needed any justification, of course. He was Sir and He could do anything He wanted to His bitch simply because He wanted to. But a punishment always had a greater instructive impact when the bitch felt that it was something he deserved - that it was his own fault that he was being punished.

So tomorrow afternoon, when the bitch was strung up for a full-body whipping, back and front, he'd just see it as something he had coming to him. Hell, he'd probably enjoy it, figuring that he was getting off lightly for what he'd done. Later, after the whipping was over, when Sir slapped His bitch's cock into chastity while he was still hanging from the ceiling (and plugged his cunt with the attached ball for good measure), the bitch would figure that was simple justice for having asked to cum and then done so, without Sir's permission.

But Monday, Monday was going to be a real eye-opener for His bitch. It was going to be a long day for him, too. The first appointment was scheduled for 10:00 a.m., at Sam's shop. He'd simply give His bitch the address and tell him when to be there, so the bitch would have no idea of what was going to happen. he'd just be told he was to act like the bitch he was - he was to do whatever he was told to do.

Sam had promised he'd follow Sir's instructions to the letter. He'd have two assistants helping him - an eighteen-year-old straight boy (who, Sam assured Sir, was hot as hell) and a thirty-year-old married woman. Just stripping in front of them, knowing he was caged and plugged, would be excruciatingly humiliating for the bitch. But, when he was ordered on to the table and informed he was there for a full-body waxing, the bitch would probably want to sink into the floor in embarrassment.

Sam had promised Him that his two assistants would make deprecatory and demeaning remarks throughout the procedure, particularly during and after the removal of the bitch's pubic bush, so there was no way the bitch was going to come out of the experience without feeling completely emasculated.

Then, when the bitch arrived back home, he was going to discover that Sir had two friends over and he'd be ordered to strip in front of them and reveal his now totally- hairless body. His friends had already been prepped on the type of remarks they should make as they ran their hands over the bitch's denuded skin, telling him how much he looked like a little boy, like a little girl - a point that would be driven home when the bitch was told to pull the plug out of his pussy and let Sir's two friends fuck his cunt, which they would do with a vengeance, all the time groping and fondling the bitch's bald crotch.

Later, after his friends left, Sir would explain to His bitch that, so long as he was in chastity, he was also going to be kept hairless. He'd have the same appointment with Sam every week until his time in chastity ended. And Sir would make a point of telling His bitch how much He loved it that His bitch now really looked like a little boy - like a bitch should look, even though in truth Sir actually preferred having His bitch with a trimmed bush, rather than a hairless crotch. But sometimes, You had to make sacrifices for the sake of Your bitch's training and this was one sacrifice Sir was more than willing to make, particularly since Sir was sure that He'd be able to make frequent use of His bitch's hairless state to keep him in an almost constant state of embarrassment.

But the really big surprise was going to be that evening. Sir was going to take His bitch to that appointment; He wouldn't miss it for the world. His bitch would probably still be a little sore from his foray into the backroom of the bar, but that would just make everything that was going to happen more enjoyable - for Sir.

Once they got to the parlor, He'd have His bitch strip down and display his hairless, caged and plugged body for the rest of the clientele's gratification and amusement. He was sure the bitch would blush crimson, at least. That would set the tone for the rest of the proceedings. Then, when His bitch's turn came, Sir would help get him into position and then stand back and watch the tattoo artist go to work.

It wasn't a large tattoo. Actually, it was just a pair of words, each letter an inch and one-half high: "Sir's" "cunt" The first, "Sir's," would be in a semi-circle just above the edge of the bitch's pussy-lips and the second, "cunt,' would be in a semi-circle just below the cunt-lips. The whole thing wouldn't be readily visible even when the bitch was nude, as he always was at home. When the bitch was standing up, it would look like there was a shadow around his cunt. But when he was lying down and his cuntholder was spread wide, then everyone would see the words "Sir's cunt" surrounding the bitch's pussy and know exactly what they were fucking.

The bitch was bound to be a little sore after getting the tattoo but he should be fine by Saturday. Sir wondered when His bitch would broach the topic of going to a party at Todd's apartment. he was sure to be nervous when he brought the question up and Sir would go out of the way to increase his insecurities at even asking for permission. But Sir was relishing the shocked look He knew He'd receive when He told His bitch that Sir wanted him to go the party.

The party was actually part of the deal that Sir had made with Todd and Raphael. They hadn't believed Him at first when He sought them out and told them about His bitch, about their friend Colt. But Sir had more than enough pictures and videos to convince them that their studly friend Colt, who used to brag about how he was a total top who would never even consider allowing another dude to fuck him, was now, in fact, Sir's complete and unconditional bitch.

They'd been pretty pissed off, too, figuring that Colt had played them for suckers so they were more than receptive when Sir laid out the plans he'd made for the evening at The Pit and were actually eager to play their role in humiliating their 'friend.' The only hang-up was that they were understandably reluctant to provide Sir, who they had just met, with the HIV-test results He wanted before they barebacked the bitch.

Not that they were that dead-set on fucking Colt raw. In reality, they were more than willing to use condoms when they double-fucked him. It was Sir who wanted them to breed His bitch, to seed him in public like some common whore. Sir wanted to see how His bitch would handle that indignity. But, at the same time, Sir wasn't about to put His bitch into any real jeopardy. He needed to be sure that both of His bitch's friends were HIV-negative before they bred him.

The deal that they struck was that, in exchange for being tested and providing Sir with the results earlier in the week, Sir would make His bitch available for a party with his old cruising buddies where they'd all have the opportunity to show His bitch how unhappy they were with his former masquerade as a Real Man. his two friends had agreed to limit the attendance to no more than fifteen, even though they assured Sir that at least three times that many former friends would be lined up for a go at Colt's pussy if given the chance. The only limitation Sir had imposed (beside the standard no mutilation, no permanent injuries) was that they all had to agree to use condoms at the party. There would be too many guys there taking their turn with His bitch's cunt for Sir to adequately monitor who had and who hadn't provided Him with proof of their HIV status. Sir wasn't willing to take that risk with His bitch's health.

Sir was, of course, planning on being there, out of sight at least at the beginning of the action, just like He had been at the bar all night long. But He figured after seven or eight hours of hard-dicking, His bitch would be pretty much out of it and Sir would breed His bitch in front of all his former friends, just so they would all know what a total bitch-slut he really was. Not that any of them would have the slightest doubt of that by the time the party was over.

And the week after that, Sir was planning on throwing His own party for His friends. His bitch had met a few on an individual basis already, but it was time he learned how to handle himself when there was an entire room filled with horny men impatient to have their turn at his cunt and cock-hole. It'd be interesting seeing who's friends, Sir's or His bitch's, did a better job of teaching the bitch what was now expected of him in his daily life.

All in all, as Sir thought about it, He had to admit that things had gone great and He was really looking forward to the next couple of weeks. He stood up from His barstool and thanked the bartender for his services, leaving a large tip to prove His sincerity. The bartender smiled in gratitude and handed Him a pair of leather shorts. Stuffing them into His pocket, Sir headed towards the front door. It was time to take His bitch home.

Well, that's the story of Sir's bitch in the backroom. I want to thank everyone who took the time to write me about it and to urge everyone who read it to at least consider making a contribution to Nifty since it's Nifty that ultimately made posting of this story possible.

As far as future stories describing Sir's bitch's continued training by Sir, well, that's always a possibility. A lot depends on just how many requests for its continuation I receive, but even more it's simply a question of how much time I have and what other writing projects occur to me. But, rest assured, whether I return to it or not, Sir's bitch will continue to be trained to be the bitch he was destined to be.