Hurt Me

Chapter 04: Gutter Slut

One of the things I love about living downtown is how close I am to most of the good clubs. And the little cafes. The best of them are on Dauphin Street just below my apartment, or at least with an easy walk. Unfortunately for Christine, this is a nice night. We're walking.

As we walk down the street, Sophie follows behind me holding Christine by the hand as if she were a child. I can see that it's very embarrassing for Christine, but she won't object. She knows I have a collar and leash in my purse. She knows me well enough to know that at the first complaint from her, she'll be on that leash. In public or not. Walking her by the hand is already a concession to her pride. With me, concessions are gifts and can be easily lost.

The walk is short, only a block plus a few steps. I lead us to one of the tamer cafes. It does have a band, but it's a local one. It has food, slightly more of a menu than "bar food." Sandwiches are food, right? It's quiet enough to talk easily. But busy enough that I had the manager/bartender save me a table. He's always willing to hold one for me. I'm good for business. I usually bring a show better than his band.

I lead us in and spot my table immediately. It's one of the bigger ones. But it has to be. There are already three ladies waiting there. Tammy, and two other women Christine knows and calls friends. Tammy assures me that these two shared her suspicions about Christine. And since Tammy introduced Christine to me, the three of them have shared more than one giggle behind Christine's back about it. Too bad for them Christine has refused to talk about it with Tammy. It's left Tammy with all speculation and no honest gossip for them!

Until tonight. I called Tammy earlier and invited her. With the understanding that this was private, and the three of them could never speak of it to anyone else. Just themselves and Christine. They all agreed. Apparently. I've only spoken to Tammy. I don't know the others. But I'll trust Tammy. So they're in for an adventure tonight.

Christine sees her friends, too. She freezes instantly. Then she squirms in Sophie's grasp, trying to run. Sophie shoves her along. As we near the table the ladies rise. I turn to Christine and very firmly tell her "remember slut, you promised to behave. You don't want to disappoint me, do you? My slave so loves to drink the tea here..." I think that's enough of a coy hint for Christine to catch. It's either suffer this lasting public humiliation or get pee-boarded again. Maybe several times. She knows I have a slave-whore, Paige, whom I wouldn't hesitate to turn loose on her, too. I'll bet she thinks I might just invite the entire cafe back to pee on and in her.

Tammy quickly introduces the other ladies, Katie and Mandy, to me. She starts to introduce me, but I do that myself. "I'm Pepper, this slut's owner." I jab a thumb at Christine. Who blushes as she makes herself stand there and not run away. Mandy says a hello to Christine.

Christine says nothing. She knows better. But I can see it in the blush on her face that it's killing her to just stand here. So I make it worse! More humiliating. "Answer, slut! You know better than to be rude when you're spoken to."

"Yes, Ma'am..." Christine says. Then she says a very humble hello to her friend. The hello of a slave, not a friend.

I point to the middle of the three open chairs. "Sit, slut." Everyone watches as Christine sits, crosses her legs, and folds her hands in her lap like a good slut. Sophie and I take the chairs on either side of her.

Everyone notices the sucking breath of a wince as Christine sits. Mandy, whom I've already decided is a bimbo, doesn't think. She just asks Christine if she's all right since it looked like she's hurt when she sat.

Christine blushes the deepest shade of red. She knows she has no choice. She either behaves or I will so make this even more humiliating for her. And in her opinion, this is too humiliating already. "Yes, Ma'am..." Christine answers her friend, "Miss Rodgers spanked me earlier and my butt is still very sore from it, Ma'am."

Mandy's eyes go wide. She giggles. "I never thought I hear you say that! Wow, like you of all people! Spanked! You naughty girl!" And she giggles even more as Christine shirks back into her chair. But Mandy doesn't seem to notice how Christine is fidget as she already tries to grind her pussy on the seat. She's going to be doing that all night. And those chastity panties are going to let that pussy get even a tease!

We chat. Well, four of us do. Sophie and Christine remain demurely silent while us actual people talk. It goes without saying that the three vanillas, Tammy, Katie, and Mandy, have countless thousands of questions. Equally, it goes without saying that the topic of all those questions is D/s and BDSM. Or as they seem to call it "whips and chains." It's hard to argue that name for it since I whipped Christine earlier and as we're sitting here, Paige (my live-in slave-whore) is back at the apartment with chains on her ankles and in a kennel.

All three of them are intensely interested in what Christine has been doing. I'm certain they're curious. And more certain that these three ladies are interested in fishing for juicy gossip. I hope Tammy keeps her word and they keep Christine's secret. But so far Tammy hasn't let it out, and she's known all along. So I think Christine is safe. Plus, while a "lively" sex life might be embarrassing for her, it's not illegal in this country. The worst Christine could face is some public humiliation. And her pussy wouldn't mind that, even if she does.

We're not there long. Maybe five minutes or a few more. That's how long it takes for the first single guy to come over to the table. It's inevitable. A table full of girls in a club is a magnet for single guys. The first guy is somewhere around 30. He introduces himself to all of us, but his eyes are clearly on Christine. Or more accurately on her long, slender, and very bare, legs. With his eyes on those legs, but trying not to look like he's gawking at them, he asks if any of us would care to dance.

His choice is obvious. I think he considers Sophie and me to be too young for him, as in we wouldn't be interested in a man his age. Katie, at least by his eyes, would be his second choice. Her body shape is similar to Christine's, but she's dark where Christine is blond. Mandy is slightly heavy. Tammy, the bimbo, is as cute as Christine, but she might talk his ear off, too.

I decide to embarrass Christine. So I speak up before one of the others does. I point to Christine "That is my bitch, slut. Would you care to dance with slut?"

It takes him by surprise. He definitely didn't expect that! He stutters for about half a second, then decides that her being named "slut" might be a good sign. He eagerly says he'd love to. Men!

"Slut, go dance. And dance sweetly."

"Yes, Ma'am," Christine answers, blushing as she does, and getting to her feet. She offers him her hand. He takes it and leads her off to the dance floor.

"Chrissy doesn't get any say in it?" Katie asks.

"Nope." I smile. "She belongs to me. I decide who she dances with. And everything else..."

"Yikes! That is so... dehumanizing! And Chrissy goes for it?"

"Obviously," Tammy jumps in. "You didn't hear her say no, did you? It's not like there's a gun to her head or anything! And, you know, it's been like six months now she's been going to see Pepper, so... Well, she keeps going back, doesn't she?"

I just point to the dance floor. Christine is doing exactly what I told her to go do. By now it's sunk in that there's nothing she can do to get to her unbearably aching pussy. It's at my mercy. And that's driving her crazy. She's going to do her best to hurry things along. She knows, at the end of her suffering that ache, there will be a very sweet relief for her.

She's dancing close with him, pressing her lithe body snug against his. Her hands are gently caressing his back. And he is definitely loving it.

It takes him a while to bring her back to the table. If she wasn't clearly starting to tire, I think he'd have kept her all night. But he's a man. He's never tried to dance in spiky heels. Sure they make our legs look great for the guys, but... ouch, they are not exactly comfortable on the feet!

He thanks me for allowing her to dance with him. Whatever they talked about out there, it sounds like Christine behaved herself. And remembered that I own her. More like remembered that I have the key to those panties, and I can be cruel about taking my time to let her get to that pussy when she acts up.

He tells me that "slut" is a very attractive woman.

It gives me the opening I've been wanting. An opening to humiliate Christine right her, in public, and in front of her closest friends. It will so arouse her!

Christine is sitting in the worst seat at the table. I put her there purposely. She's mostly facing the band, but not much else. And her friends are across the table from her, so they're facing her. It means there's really no one with a sightline of Christine who is going to make a scene. And that's what I wanted.

"Show him your tits, slut." I say it firmly, leaving Christine no doubt that it's a command, not a request. That I expect unquestioning obedience from her. Now, not five seconds in the future. I glare at her to reinforce that.

Across from Christine, her friends look completely shocked. They just gawk, wide-eyed at her, wondering for a split second if Christine is going to actually allow this to go so far. The split second is all the time they have to wonder.

"Yes, Ma'am," Christine answers in a shamed, quiet, voice as she blushes. And as her hands begin lifting the bottom hem of her top. It doesn't take her long to have the top up to her shoulders. Her bare breasts standing out pert from her chest, their pointy tips jutting towards her friends. And their nipples jutting out proudly as hard as rocks. She sits, holding her top up, and averting her eyes upward so she's not seeing her friends.

The girls gawk dumbfounded.

The guy stares eagerly at her pert mounds. It takes him twenty or thirty seconds. Finally, he stutters out that Christine's breasts are very pretty, and "eager." I guess he's noticed how hard those nipples are, too.

"Go on, get a good feel of them if you like them."

He does hesitate to reach down and give one a long gentle squeeze. He takes as long as he thinks he can get away with.

Christine purrs softly. And I see her grinding her pussy against the seat under again, too. It's a reflex for her. She knows well that the panties aren't going to let her do it. But she can't help but to try.

"Anyone else want to feel them?" I offer, my eyes turning to Christine's friends. All of whom quickly decline to play with their friend's breasts. Such... modest ladies! "slave, show this boy how girls like those played with."

"Yes, Mistress," Sophie answers in a voice that's pure southern honey. She just reaches a hand over and tenderly caresses Christine's breast and nipple for a few seconds. That's all it takes.

Almost as soon as Sophie touches Christine's mound, goosebumps begin erupting along the lines Sophie's delicate fingers trace. Christine purrs urgently, her voice rising up to where everyone can hear her purr. Then she shudders. And then, Sophie's hand gets to Christine's nipple and gives it a hard pinch. Christine moans a very hungry moan.

I end the show before someone notices. I've done what I wanted to do. The vanilla ladies just watched Christine obediently allow a strange man to feel her breasts up. And a woman. I'm slowly making my point. I own Christine. There are no limits to what she will do simply because I say for her to.

I brush the guy off, getting rid of him. He quickly sends a round of drinks over to the table. I'm sure it's less of a thank you and more of a wish for an invitation back over. But I don't invite him. I'm done with him. Christine has shown her friends this aspect of her subservience. This humiliation is complete. On to the next.

As the night goes on, I pick a couple of more dance partners for Christine. And each time I remind her to dance very sweetly for the guy. I'd pick a woman for her to dance with, that would be humiliating for her, but there doesn't appear to be any women here who would be interested in dancing closely with another woman. It's not known as that kind of place. "That" place is a couple of more blocks down. But I doubt Christine's friends would stay long if we went there. They don't seem to be the open-minded type who could be comfortable there. Unlike me. I'm known there, too. The food is better.

We've been here for about two hours when I pick a very young man for Christine. He's got to be 18, 19 at the most. He's not geeky, but he does still have that awkwardness of a growing body. When he comes over, I just come right out and ask if he'd like a lap dance from "slut" and point to Christine. Being male, it takes one look at her lithe legs and he says he would. Men are just so predictable!

Two minutes later, he is in Christine's chair, and she is giving him a very slutty lap dance. But with her clothes on. This place might let me get away with a lot, really anything, but if she got naked in here, someone would complain. There's always one who hates it when someone has too much fun.

Her friends gawk wide-eyed again as she teasingly caresses his chest with her nipples, poking out hard against the thin fabric of her top. And as she turns around to massage his crotch with her bottom. Too bad, for Christine, that the chastity panties stop her from using her pussy to massage that. Or she'd be cumming on him. His hands rove all over her body, especially her stinging-tender bottom. She barely even show her discomfort from the spanking when he plays with it.

Nor does she show any discomfort at being given to such a younger boy. Plenty of humiliation, though. I've given her to a boy who would get the time of day from her otherwise. She'd see him as a child. He's got to be better than fifteen years younger than she is. Not that the 18-year-old cares. Only her face looks her age. Her body is too athletic and slim for that. Too firm.

It's a half-hour later when the evening is starting to get to the point of ending. We've been here long enough. There's not much humiliation left that her friends haven't seen. It's time for my finale.

We don't have a check to pay. All of our drinks, even the fries four of us munched on, were paid for by various guys. It's the benefit of a table full of cute girls in a club. I wait until I can catch the bartender's eye. Then I just wink. It's my cue to him. It says, "have any good friends here tonight?"

A couple of minutes later the guy I was hoping for walks over to the table. He brings me a glass of white wine. I know him. He's a regular here, too. He's somewhere in his forties. He looks and is dressed, almost like a biker. With a bushy beard. Plenty of tattoos. Worn jeans. A t-shirt from a metal band. But no leather vest or bike club patches. That's because he's not the burly biker he looks like. He's a former Army Ranger. He lives in Pascagoula, MS., now. He's a bounty hunter and repo man. From the way, he talks a pretty good one, too. At least he makes a lot of money at it. But he doesn't look like a cop. He looks exactly like the kind of guy who should be on Christine's caseload. And with him being from Mississippi, Christine won't have a clue who, or what, he is. She'll size up as what he looks like. So perfect!

"Hey blondie," he greets me, "got a new bitch?"

"Yes, this is slut." I smile at him.

He holds out a $20 dollar bill to me. "I got $20 if she'll live up to that name."

I snatch the bill. "come, slut." I get up.

Christine very hesitantly gets up to her feet. She hasn't a clue what I just took $20 for, at least not specifically, but she can guess that she's about to somehow live up to the name slut. He grabs her hand, just a little roughly, and leads her to follow me. As I rose from my seat, I flashed Sophie two fingers behind my back to tell her what I want her to do.

We go to the men's room. It's a small one, only two stalls, and two urinals. And like any men's room in a bar, it's not the cleanest place in the club. Decently clean, but clearly showing some disorder from the heavy use. He stands against the wall, beside a urinal, and leans.

I point to the floor in front of him. "On your knees, slut. Earn my money, bitch. Swallow that cock." Christine blanches and freezes. It hits her full force what I've done. I've turned her out. I've sold her body. I'm making her into a whore! A real whore. I just collected $20 for her to give him a blow job. And I expect her to do it here, in this filthy men's room like a cheap gutter whore. "Now," I snap firmly to remind her of her place.

She tentatively kneels in front of him. Her hands move a little slowly to his jeans. But soon she has a six-inch-long cock standing out from his jeans. As she kneels on the dirty floor, seeing his cock and the very dirty urinal next to him, she puts the tip of his cock to her lips. She hesitates just a fraction of a second, giving me a chance to stop it. Then she starts taking the cock into her mouth.

As she's doing that, Sophie does her job. She gets Christine's friends and brings them back. Then with a smile from Sophie, the bartender puts a sign up that the bathrooms are closed for cleaning.

Christine's friends freeze as the door is opened and they see Christine, on her knees in this public bathroom, the head of his cock in her mouth. If a little less was visible it could be a stereotypical scene out of any movie. Only in that movie, Christine would be the kind of cheap whore who worked some street corner hustling tricks from passing cars.

But no movie, except the XXX ones, would show what they can see now. Christine's lips leisurely sliding along the sides of his cock as it vanishes into her mouth.

"Oh, my G-d!" It's Mandy who blurts it out first, "there is no way I would ever do that! Not like... that! I mean, really, on my knees in a men's room? Like a whore!"

"Well, my Mistress did charge him $20, so..." Sophie teasingly adds. In a voice loud enough for Christine to hear it, too.

"EW!" Katie blurts out, "She's right, Pepper just... sold Chrissy! And look at Chrissy, she's going for it! What a slut!"

Now that's what I call humiliation. Christine knows that I've actually whored her out. I've sold her mouth to a guy and I never asked even his name. And I'm making her do it in the trashiest way possible. And now she knows that I'm letting her friends see, not just know, exactly what she'll do. I'm sure she knows they'll never forget this image of her!

I just glance. The trio might be saying how tawdry the show is, but they're all watching it. I can hear Mandy, very quietly, wondering aloud "how does she do that..." I know she's referring to the way Christine is taking every bit of his cock into her mouth and throat. It's a trick I taught her. Unpleasantly. And now she's putting it to good use. She goes all the way down until her lips are flush against his pubes and balls, then reverses her stroke rising up until only the head of his cock is left in her mouth. And she does it with every unhurried stroke.

"It must be some whore trick... it looks like Chrissy has certainly had plenty of practice!" Tammy suggests.

"Yeah, in men's rooms across the county!" Katie adds with a giggle.

It makes clear what her friends think of Christine's display. Too trashy. Definitely unexpected.

But it isn't too long of a show. Greg, the guy, doesn't take too long to finish. I'd guess about five minutes, but I'm not timing it. He moans out with satisfaction, loud and guttural, as his first spurt shoots into Christine's mouth.