Humbled in Sri Lanka

He kicked me again, harder this time and I scrambled hurriedly onto all fours.

"You work now!" he informed me and shouted something to his companion.

"Please!" I moaned "I am very tired and thirsty. Please let me drink something!"

Sir considered my request then picked up the dirty bowl that had held his curry snack and poured some water into it. Placing the bowl on the ground beneath my head, he ordered me to drink and I did, lapping up all the food and waste curry like a good little dog. Sir obviously approved as I earned a gentle pat on the head.

"Come!" said Sir and I crawled behind him to a more shaded part of the garden. This time, it did not even cross my mind to stand up and walk, being Sir's dog was so natural to me now.

The tree man had been busy. He had driven five stakes into the ground, four were arranged facing each other in a square while a larger one sat at the head of the square. Each of the four shorter ones had a length of rope attached to them. Before I could open my mouth to protest, I had been manhandled between the stakes and my limbs were being bound to them by the ropes. A dog collar I recognised as having once belonged to my wife's pet Alsatian which had recently passed away, was fastened to my neck and its leather leash was tied to the largest stake. It was tight enough to bind me to the post but loose enough to allow my head and neck some freedom of movement.

Their work done, Sir and his friend stepped back to admire their handiwork. What a sight I must have been, their once proud employer tethered on all fours like a goat with his legs forced wide apart so that his defenceless arse was on display to all the world. They must have liked what they saw because both now sported fresh erections. I am ashamed to say that I did as well.

"What is the meaning of this!" I gasped, straining at my bonds "What are you going to do with me?"

"Now you work." said Sir, kneeling down and patting my cheek "You work hard for Sir. Make Sir much money, make Sir very happy."

Still smiling, he pointed to his companion who was talking to someone on my mobile. Of course, the native language had never interested me but the tone of the conservation seemed to me to resemble the type of haggling I had heard just a short time earlier during my unfortunate visit to the market. Sensing what was to come, I started to tremble and my eyes started to water.

"No cry." said Sir "You be good dog for Sir, you not have any problem. Only problem if you are bad dog. If you bad dog then my friend punish you. You not like that."

"No Sir." I said miserably "He is not nice like you."

Sir smiled.

"Then be good wife for men who coming. Work cunt good and make them happy. They happy, Sir happy then you happy."

"I understand Sir." I said, lowering my head submissively "I will be the very best whore I can be just for you."

I am not sure if he understood my words but he appreciated the emotions behind them. At least that is what I thought when he patted me on the head. Picking up the hose, he then proceeded to wash me down, making particularly sure that my arsehole was thoroughly cleaned. It did not take long for the water to dry off in the midday sun. While he waited, Sir sat under a nearby tree, smoking with his friend.

Despite my brave words, I was terrified and the next several minutes were agonising as I awaited the arrival of my first customer. It could be anyone, from any social class. I was at the mercy now of even the lowest dregs of local society, the kind of people who were so far beneath me that they were invisible to me on a daily basis. Now it was they who would be able to lord it me if Sir so chose. I just hoped that whoever did come was not fat or ugly and that they would take precautions. Somehow, I doubted it.

I had drifted into a kind of dream state by the time I finally heard the garden gate open, my cock hard as I imagined serving a group of handsome and virile young men who looked suspiciously like my masseur. I heard the rustle of paper as notes were handed over just behind my arse, temporarily passing ownership and control of my naked body over to my customer.

"Remember dog, you be good now or Sir very angry!" warned Sir and then, with a final slap of my arse, he and his friend walked away.

Trembling, I held my arse up high and allowed it to be inspected. I still had not seen my customer but a snort of disgust told me he was less than impressed by my assets. I was in state of some anxiety as he walked around me, muttering under his breath and when I was finally ordered to look up I almost fainted I was so afraid. It was the tall, thin old trader I had so firmly put in his place earlier that morning and the scornful look on his pinched face was anything but friendly.