My newfound role as the sissy slut servant to the owner of a small porn shop and the customers in his theater continued to exhilarate me, fulfilling my submissive desires to feel used and humiliated beyond my most kinky fantasies. But surely any rational person would say this was taking it to far: being pimped out to a stranger at the theater for a mere $20, and being taken to his home located God knows where.
As we pulled up into a dark driveway, I knew not to move until ordered. The man stepped out of the driver door, circled around the front of the truck, opened my door, and grabbed hold of the leash attached to my regular collar from the theater.
"C'mon, slut," he said, tugging hard on the leash, and pulling out into the cool evening air, my sissy pink lingerie, panties, thigh high stockings, and decorative girly bows in plain view, were any neighbors to glance this way. As he walked up the steps to the front door, he jerked downward on the leash.
"Get on all fours, slut. And stay here."
He opened the door and went into the house, closing the door behind him and leaving me waiting there in my slutty sissy things, wondering how long it would take him to come back -- and why he didn't seem to care if any of his neighbors might spot me there on his porch. After several minutes (that felt like much, much longer), the door swung open and the man and another man stepped out onto the porch, with two large dogs close behind.
"Holy shit, Jim, you weren't kidding!"
"Okay Larry, you can put the dogs away. I just wanted to give him a little scare. And besides, we got us a new dog now. Sit up and beg, slut!"
I rolled back over into a squat on my hind legs and lifted my arms, curling my hands downward in a position I'd seen sex "pets" doing in porn. "C'mon, BEG!" Jim yelled at me, and I did my best to bark like a dog. "Ruff! Ruff!"
"That's the way, Sluttie," Jim responded, "now let's go." He tugged my leash toward the back of the house, in the direction Larry had taken the dogs. He continued to pull me stumbling on my knees out a back door and into a back yard where Larry was walking a dog into an outdoor pen. "Larry, put them both in the first pen. We're gonna put Sluttie in the other one."
Larry cackled, and moved the two dogs -- maybe I should say the two OTHER dogs, at this point -- into the large cage. Jim them jerked my leash and his new dog "Sluttie" toward a second pen, the dirt ground staining my pretty pink stockings as I crawled into my new home. It was early evening, but not completely dark yet, and I watched nervously for neighbors on either side of the yard peeking in to see the spectacle that Larry and Jim had brought home, especially given how their loud orders and laughter, along with the barking of the dogs, seemed bound to draw attention.
"He begged good, Larry. Maybe you should give him a treat," Jim suggested, pointing at the crotch of Larry's pants.
"Yeah, he looked like he does a real good job," Larry replied, "but I have to go take a piss first."
"What are you talking about?" Jim laughed back, you got a toilet right there," pointing at my mouth. "Sluttie, open that slut mouth!"
As I complied Larry's eyes widened. "Really? Shit, I really gotta go."
"That's what sluts are for, Larry. We're gonna use this one for all kinds of things."
Larry trudged over to where I sat back mouth wide open, fumbled with his zipper and pulled out a very thick cock.
"Hold on a sec," Jim told him, "I gotta get this." To my horror, Jim was coming around with his phone camera. Yes, my humiliation loving slutty cravings had me getting excited about the sheer degradation of being pissed on, in a backyard dirt floor kennel in a way they wouldn't even treat their actual dogs. But having it captured in video by these guys, with God knows what future sort of depths they might want to blackmail me into, this had finally gone too far beyond my few limits I'd clung to through all my slutty submission at the theater.
"No, no," I said, raising my hands toward the phone. "No pictures or videos. That breaks my limits."
Jim looked taken aback, almost as if an actual dog had sat up and spoken to him. He looked over at Larry and laughed. "What the shit you wanna do, slut? You want us to kick your ass to the curb in your dirty sissy lingerie, and let you find your way home that way?" He growled the words in a way that made me assume the curb kicking would not be gentle. "You came here in your slutty outfit and leash of your own accord. You want that story to get out? You wanna explain your slut outfit and stumbling around the neighborhood without any man's clothes? Or you want me to tell your master at the porn theater that you disappointed me, and take a chance that he exposes you too?"
My mind was racing with all the risks and possibilities. I thought about my slutty service in the porn theater and how I was already pretty sure one of two of the men had surreptitiously photographed or videoed me. I thought about being pulled out the back of the shop with nothing on but my slutty sissy clothes and a collar and leash, and how that was probably caught on the security cameras of Balvan the owner. And I wondered what I could possibly do with no clothes, no phone, no money, and no idea where I even was, if Jim and Larry just kicked me off their property.
"No sir," I answered quietly, a couple tears now actually escaping from my eyes, "I'll do what you say. I want to be a good slut for you."
