A Suitable Job For A Slut Ch. 02

Another way I earn my keep is I work three nights and a couple of lunchtimes at a small pub, I don’t know what the people pay to use me because either the guys or the landlord make the arrangements without consulting me. I’m told what to do, how to behave and what to wear. But I get to keep my tips, which is cool.

Being the pub cunt has a nice additional layer of humiliation in that I almost always see a number of the regulars around the small area we live. Of course if they want servicing I have to, regardless of what I’m doing. Sometimes, they don’t bother to speak to me but I can see them talking about me, the knowing looks, the smirks – all get me wet.

I think at the pub a group of the regulars all chip in per week. The regulars are an odd mix of local guys, mostly older – a few respectable types, a few not so respectable types, a couple of farm workers, mechanic and car sales from over the road, a lawyer, a dentist as well as my owners. It’s probably my favourite slut work.

I have what I guess you’d call a pen there, out in the yard, some of the guys call it Cunt’s Corner or The Dog Pen. It’s a little fenced off area next to the dumpsters. It has a spotlight and a cctv camera with a feed that plays on a big screen in the bar. It also has a hose attached to a freezing cold tap to rinse me off when I get in such a disgusting state the men feel reluctant to put their cocks into me. It has one of those brush attachments people use on their cars as well.

My slutpen is where I usually go to suck cock for the paying non-regulars. It is mostly paved with rough slabs but there is a patch of dirt with a tree with rough bark that also acts as a tethering post for my leash. There is a bench but illegal bahis that’s not for me to sit on, I do sometimes get chained to it. They keep four oversized dildos in my pen and if nobody wants to use me I’m impaled and tied up outside until I’m require or just for their amusement – especially if its raining or hailing. I’m not sure why they like leaving me out in the rain impaled on the fake cocks when they could be fucking the real ones but I know better than to ask.

I don’t have a name tag for work, I have a special collar that says Cunt. I’m allowed to wear clothes but only very short skirts and skimpy tops, no shoes unless someone specifically requests it – shoes give me ideas above my station. Panties because some of them like to gag my stupid mouth with them when it’s not being used for its purpose of sucking dick or swallowing piss. Nobody ever asks for me to wear a bra though.

It is a very strange, quiet area, kind of out of the way unless you have a reason to go there, you don’t but quite a few businesses are nearby but no houses . It’s not the kind of place you take your wife or go for a nice lunch. The layout is such that the back room can’t be seen by anyone who happens to stumble in. I get to serve those passing strangers, dressed in a short skirt and low top, kept behind the bar for such times, my name collar in full view, usually with something large in my holes. Men always notice and often ask the landlord what the score is with the waitress who looks like whore. And if they ask, they tend to be allowed to find out just what a cocksucking whore she is for a small fee. But to be fair, those moments are usually less demanding than keeping the regulars busy.

I love the system illegal bahis siteleri of being allowed to keep my tips, especially in my slut pen at the pub. The men that use me there tend to have coins – because the Landlord suggests it! Instead of handing me the coins they throw the change down for me, then stand there smoking and pissing on me while I scrabble around picking it up, my cunt dripping at the humiliation of it, sometimes by the end of a busy night I have a ton of pennies, my knees are bleeding and I’m soaked with piss and grubby with dirt and ash, I’ve swallowed so much cum and piss that my mouth and nose are still flooded with the taste and smell. Those nights when if I get face fucked hard towards the end of the night, if I puke all that comes out is piss and cum. I have to take the pennies to the bank and change them for proper money. One of the regulars is the bank manager. He always thinks I get way more than I’m worth and he’s probably right. I’d happily do it for free but my owners think a cunt should earn her keep.

I’m not allowed to use the toilets , because animals piss outside so I have to ask for permission to go out to my slutpig pen and piss. The men are allowed to use the toilets but they rarely bother, my mouth or my gaping ass are the preferred option. They summon me by whistling. the regulars are allowed to fuck all holes.

The pub is known in certain circles, people like travelling salesmen and truck drivers along with a select group of locals, all via word of mouth. The landlord usually has at least two or three cock sucking bookings waiting for me. Occasionally there is a queue, Making men wait is a one of the things I get punished for.

I don’t always perform canlı bahis siteleri in the pen, if they can’t be bothered to get up I just get forced on my knees and service them right there at the table or while they stand at the bar. A few of the regulars love to make me piss into a glass and drink it that way. Other times they fill my ass with piss and cum over the shift, plugging it until my stomach swells then feed a tube into my mouth and have me drain the lot.

There is a pillory – type restraining device outside, near the tables and the barbecue – more often than not this is where I get my Sunday punishments. The pub has a growing selection of whips, crops and paddles. Just for their amusement, they just keep finding new ones. The bar area also has rings that I can be chained to in a multitude of shapes and of course an pole, they can make me dance if they feel inclined or just tie me to it.

As well as the whips there is a baseball bat with my name etched into it which a few of the guys like to fuck me with. Not long ago they had to get another pool table, one for playing pool because the other one has been hijacked into service as a platform for abusing me and the surface got ruined. I had to pay for the new one by working an extra shift for a few months. One of the regulars is a carpenter and he has adapted the slut table to be more fit for purpose. Like, the light over the has a pulley with holes for my arms and head now. Thanks to that system I can take a lot more cock in my holes at one time.

We always go there on Sunday afternoons as well but that’s not really work although I still end up busy 🙂 There is a ‘complaint box’. Every day it gets checked and every Sunday I get the accumulated punishment. My misdemeanors vary but it tends to be my smart mouth that gets me in trouble. Punishment methods for various misdeeds are put to vote. I admit that I’m prone to being occasionally naughty because I do love those Sunday chastisements.

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