Day 3 started like Day 2, with Reggie scrubbing me down and administering an enema before handing me over to six more crewman who filled me up for my Sir. The enema was a lot more painful today, due to that extreme ass fucking with just butter as lube, but Reggie didn't seem to care.
Sir gave me no idea what to expect at our first port, just told me to dress as directed by the stylist in the instructions. The dress was sheer, but not too crazy sexy, and I was wearing a reasonable bikini underneath, and even flats, which seemed odd at first. The makeup was the trashy kind, though, super red lips, lots of eye makeup, the kind that I knew would run at the drop of a hat. I was instructed to put a special tube of red lipstick into my purse.
A private car met us as soon as we disembarked and whisked us off to the wharf. What was odd is the car stopped at a pier and Sir got out, but motioned me to stay.
"Do whatever they tell you."
Sir closed the door and the car drove on a bit more, to a building by the pier. The driver gave me a leer, checking me out pretty thoroughly, before he ordered me to go in one of the numbered doors.
The room was dim. The office I walked into was a mess, paper all over the place. It was also warm already, and looking to be a sticky day. I was scared, but I guessed since the driver just eyefucked me without touching me, they knew what their orders were.
There was a middle-aged guy in shorts and a multi-colored tropical shirt, open almost to the waist. He looked me over briefly.
"Strip."
I took a deep breath and slipped out of the dress. He didn't tell me to stop, so I took off the bikini, too.
"Shoes too."
I stepped out of them and stood naked, as he looked me over again.
"Give me your purse."
I didn't have much in there, my ship ID, and the makeup.
He opened the purse and pulled out the tube of lipstick. Starting on my chest, in the space just above my tits, he wrote "FUCKTOY". Moving down, across my lower belly, he wrote "WHORE". He instructed me to turn and bend at the waist. Just above my buttocks he wrote something else.
"It says COCKSLUT. Because that's what you are. Right?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you're a whore. Men are paying good money to use your holes today. You'd better do a good job. I'm not into giving refunds."
Refunds? Oh my God, he really was whoring me out? Would Sir even be there or was he just leaving me somewhere? In the middle of this mental freakout, tropical shirt guy told me to stand up. He used some straps to bind my arms behind me, making my tits stick out, and probably making the FUCKTOY written above them even more obvious. He picked up some metal clamps and put one on each nipple. Damn they hurt, but not as bad as the one he clamped over my clit. My eyes were watering, but I was fighting back the tears, not wanting the makeup to start running so early in whatever this day was going to be. I shouldn't have bothered. The next thing he ordered me to do was kneel and suck his cock, which was massive. He really liked to abuse the back of my throat, so a few tears came as I was gagging. He pulled out, though, to cum all over my face. Again, so much for the makeup. He tugged on the chains on my nips, pulling me painfully up, and started towing me forward. Out the door! Oh my God, he was going to drag me around naked and barefoot in the streets! With my tits thrust in front of me and cum all over my face. I was torn between humiliation and the biggest flush of horniness I had ever experienced. I stumbled a bit through the uneven streets, about half a block to the pier where we'd left off Sir. My face burned. Some men stared. Some seemed uninterested, like this was an everyday thing. Maybe it was. A few called out "puta", whore. I saw a few of them point out the smear of cum all over my face. I was praying they weren't seeing the dripping coming from my cunt.
Out onto the pier, and onto a boat, where a dozen men were waiting. There was also a woman, a petite brunette wearing a tiny red bikini. Thankfully after towing me onto the boat, the guy released the clamps. They hurt so much when he took them off, I cried out, which made all the men turn and look at me.
"Gentlemen, the second whore is here. Let's get some photos before we cast off!"
I still had the straps holding my arms back, chest up. The first tourist man came around behind me and grabbed my tits while a photographer came up and took my picture.
"Smile, whore!"
Tourist twisted my nips, hard.
"I don't care if she smiles or not. Suffering is great, too!"
The photographer snapped a few more of me as I grimaced.