Porn Theater Sissy Slave Pt. 03

In a matter of just a few weeks, a submissive, slutty fantasy beyond even my own perverted imagination had become a regular routine. I showed up at the porn shop every Sunday by noon -- with additional stops throughout the week if I was feeling particularly horny, as I increasingly was. As per my orders, immediately upon entering I would strip off the outer male clothes and down to my pink sissy lingerie, panties, stockings, and bows, then pull the collar and leash from my pocket and fasten it around my neck, and kneel beside Balvan, the elderly owner of the shop, ready to serve.

Balvan would take his time, barely acknowledging my existence, before nonchalantly giving me my first orders. If he pointed at his crotch, I would eagerly pull down the zipper of his pants, pull out his large, brown cock, and slurp away at it hungrily. At first Balvan would order me to do this only when no one else was in the main shop where they might see. But news was starting to get out about the house sissy slave, and soon Master Balvan would order me to begin if a regular or two were milling about, sometimes even carrying on conversations or taking their purchases as if nothing unusual were happening.

When either Balvan was done with me, or earlier if he did not choose to be serviced that day, he would snap his fingers and point to the small theater portion of the shop, whereupon I would quickly walk into the theater, past whatever old men were doing whatever nasty things inside, to the last of the three room sections, and hang the end of my leash on a hook on the wall. The first few times I served as the shop's sissy slave, Balvan pulled me into the theater himself and announced me to the customers, for example announcing, "Gentlemen, the house sissy slut is here and at your service free of charge. Please use this slut in whatever nasty way pleases you." After 4 or 5 weeks of this, most of the men knew the drill, and Master Balvan had also put a sign up under the leash hook, explaining my availability when present.

The regulars quickly got to know that the more degrading and humiliating ways they treated me, the harder my sissy man clit would become. If they greeted me by spitting a glob of spit onto my face, I was not allowed to wipe it off, just as I would not be allowed to wipe off the cum that would follow, and I loved the utterly submissive feeling of their various body fluids slowing rolling down my face, neck and chest. Sometimes a man would take me by the leash to a private corner and have his way with me, but my favorites were when they would share me, and several men use me at the same time, treating me as their property and their toy. One man might sucking my cock as another spanked my bare ass then worked his finger up my hole, and as yet another jerked my leash down to suck his cock, or perhaps alternate between two, three, or more of them.

As required by Master Balvan, whenever there was a break in the action I would come back out to the main shop and kneel beside him, waiting patiently until he took my smart phone I had left on the pile of my man clothes and snap photos of my face with the sticky cum and spit rolling down. Then it was back into the theater for whatever customer might want to amuse himself with me next.

The first real change to this routine came when a large man who had already used me a couple of times was doing so again, then stepped back, pulling his cock out of my mouth with an audible pop, and jerking me to my feet with the leash. "C'mere, slut," he said pulling me through the three rooms of the theater and out the theater door into the main shop.

"Hey, Balvan, would you ever consider letting me borrow your slut and taking him home where I can share him with my buddies?" the man asked.

Balvan looked up slowly, thought for a couple seconds, then said "I wouldn't trust it with most people, but for you, sure. But it will cost you $20 and you need to have it back in an hour."

"Done!" replied the man, pulling out his wallet and fishing out a $20 bill. "Let's go slut," he said, pulling on the leash.

"Does it need its clothes?" asked the man?

"Nahhhh," Balvan replied, "Just go out the back door and don't make a public spectacle."

Balvan turned at looked at me standing there wide-eyed at this unexpected turn of events. "You be good to my customer, slut," he said looking me right in the eyes for once. "You make sure he and his friends are happy."

As the man lead me by the leash out the back door and into the parking, my face burned with embarrassment as we passed another customer who had just gotten out of his car. Even after weeks of the nastiest sort of service inside the theater, it seemed much more humiliating just to be seen in my pink panties, thigh high stockings, and pink satin sissy dress, being pulled by a leash toward what turned out to be the man's giant pickup.

"Get in, slut," he said, opening the passenger door, and then shutting it behind me. At least the truck was so far off the ground that the chances of other people on the road seeing me in my sissy outfit were low. In any case, I pushed my head back as far as I could to try and further minimize the chances of being spotted in this secretive part of my life.

After we'd pulled out of the lot and headed down the four-lane highway to God knows where, the man reached over and pushed my panties aside, pulling my pathetic sissy cock out. After a few tugs he told me, "Why don't you jerk yourself off on the drive? But don't you cum! Put your feet up on the dashboard."

I must admit that due to my perverted psyche and love of humiliation, I was already rock hard, and had to pace myself to not violate his order and blast the truck with my sissy semen. He would glance back and forth from my show and the road, eventually pointing at his own crotch and telling me "Pull out that cock and suck on me as I drive." I was only too eager to comply.

For a while I tried to keep track of where we were going, just in case he didn't follow through on driving me back. Oh my god, what would I do then? With no phone, no wallet, and no clothes except my ridiculous sissy outfit. But there were too many turns and it was too difficult to follow with my head down in his lap. The worst times were at the stop lights, although as far as I could tell we were too high up in the truck for any other drivers to see me and what I was being forced to do. After what might have been a couple miles -- I really had no idea -- he pulled out his phone as I continued to slurp on his cock.

"Hey, Larry, guess what I'm bring home? You know that sissy slut in the theater I was telling ya about? Yeah, well he's coming home with me. What? Yes, right now. What will he do -- he'll do anything I tell him. Yeah he LOVES being used as a submissive sissy slut. Sure you can use him too -- that's the whole idea! Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, he's actually sucking my cock right now! Hold on..." The man shifted the phone around in his hand, tapped a few buttons, and held it back a ways with the camera lens pointed down at my sissy slut mouth wrapped around his cock. "Can you see that? I told you! Okay, I gotta stop and focus on driving. We'll be there in a few minutes. Oh, and bring the dogs inside."

The dogs? Larry? My mind was flashing back and forth between being terrified of what unknown experiences awaited me -- and the lack of 100% confidence that I would be brought back discretely and on time -- and what I would have thought was absolutely impossible, i.e. being even more excited and horny than I'd been in the theater. Was I pushing things too far? Anyone sensible could see how risky and unwise this was. But my inner slut and its unrestrainable love of nasty humiliation wouldn't have let me bow out of this even if it was still possible. I would just stay on this crazy ride no matter what it had in store for me.