Date: Tue, 1 Dec 2015 11:26:36 -0500
From: Rafi Daud <rafidaud69@gmail.com>
Subject: SIR'S bitch IN THE BACKROOM, chapter 5

       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
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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.