Irish Barmaid Is Soldiers Cum Slut

Sinead Sweeney looked at the faded, cracked façade of the pub and sighed wearily. This would be her fourth interview for part-time work that day and she had had less than no success so far. When she had arrived at University just over a month ago she had been so enthusiastic about this great adventure she was embarking on, this free spirited Irish girl of only 18 coming over to England in search of her destiny. But the truth so far had been the dreary rain of Manchester and a slow recognition that she would have to find part-time work to be able to financially survive University life, her Student Grant already proving to be way short of the mark.

'The Barracks' looked a pretty uninspiring sight for her and she swept her longish blonde hair behind her ear and steeled herself as she crossed the windswept street. It was late October and even at five o'clock the sky was gloomy and she gave an involuntary shiver. Still as soon as she had pushed back the heavy wooden door and entered the bar she was transformed, her face bright and smiling and trying to radiate all the Irish charm she could. Which she realised pretty quickly was a complete waste of her time as the Landlord who greeted her churlishly was the most repulsively unendearing character Sinead had ever come across. The interview started out bad (Sinead calling him Mike only to be curtly told 'Mr. Jones to the likes of you') and went downhill from there, all the way to the nadir of being told that she could have the job if she dropped to her knees there and then and 'gave him a blow job'. The disgusting fat slob was still standing there behind the bar as Sinead stormed out with tears of anger burning on her cheeks.

Three weeks passed and still she was no closer to earning any money and the whole situation was creating almost unbearable pressure on Sinead, to the point she was struggling to concentrate in classes. If only she hadn't been so proud (some would say boastful) when she had got her place at University, if only her parents had not been so bloody satisfied of her and made sure everyone in the small town she had grown up in knew of how well their little girl was doing. To return a failure was not an option. But with every day that passed she seemed to spend more and more of her grant and she was quickly realising that if she could not get some form of employment she would not last until Christmas. But the job search was a disaster, bar after bar turned her down, she was too young, not enough experience, wasn't suitable, whatever reason given seemed to knock the confidence further out of Sinead until she stood, four weeks to the day across from The Barracks staring hard at the bar once more.

She hugged her arms across her heaving bosoms (big enough to start a debate from the boys in her economics class as to whether she had had a boob job) and brushed her hair with her hand nervously wondering if the slobs offer still stood and perhaps even more whether or not she wanted it to still stand.

The bar was as depressingly gloomy and bereft of paying customer as her previous visit and she could see from the moment Mr. Jones spotted her that he remembered clearly who she was. She could even see the ugly curl of his lips as he moved behind the bar to greet her.

"Well, well didn't think I'd be seeing you back here any time soon Paddy!".

He laughed at his own insult as Sinead winced and wondered for the 501st time whether this was such a good idea.

"So you still want the job do you?"

Sinead nodded and hoped against hope his interview 'technique' was not the same as before but knowing that it would be. That was confirmed when the fat, old pervert unzipped his pants (right there in full view of the front door as he stood in front of the optics) and tugged out a slimy looking, shrivelled penis and began to waggle it in his hand.

"Well if you want the job girl you better get around here and get sucking!"

For a moment he thought she was not going to move as she battled with her conscience and self esteem but slowly she came towards him, stepped up and into the behind the bar area and dropped obediently to her knees. The battle was over, the forces of money and pride had won. As she grimaced and gingerly took his stiffening dick in her hand and contemplated it the landlord snorted and goaded her once more.

"That's it Paddy, suck me like the little Irish whore you are!"

Sinead knew exactly what she would be doing, knew that this would become a big moment in her life if she did it, knew that she would regret it but also that she felt she had no other alternative. The smirking, arrogant landlord was hardly inspiring her either but what else could she do? Go back to Ireland with her tail tucked, figuratively between her legs? Her clear complexion blushed bright red as she gulped nervously and finally took the step forward to behind the bar and gently lowered herself onto her denim covered knees. All her senses suddenly seemed more attuned. She felt the dust under her knees scatter as she pressed down on it, her eyes widened and could do nothing else but concentrate on Mr. Jones's cock literally expanding inches from her blue eyes and overpowering all those was the smell. The musty smell from behind the old bar, the damp staleness of disuse and the increasing smell from his groin, of sex and sweat and everything that made Sinead want to throw up at his feet. But of course she still had to contend with the taste.

From her position kneeling at his feet the landlord appeared even more grotesque, his thighs fat and bulging before her, his stomach overhanging his belt towards her and his thick, almost brown colour penis sticking straight at her face, the bulbous end already stretching his tight foreskin. Further back she could see a tangle of wiry black hairs and a big, heavy set of balls. What on earth was she doing? But it was too late to back out now and as he shuffled forward his slick penis rubbed against her lips and she obediently opened them to give it full access.

The taste was immediately vile and Sinead had to fight back the reaction of getting the thing out of her mouth and spitting the taste away. But she knew that the taste of this fat pervert's cock would stay with her for a long time. His greasy hands dropped down and took a hold of the side of Sinead's face and he gave a grunt like a pig as he pushed his pelvis forward further into her mouth and a moan as he felt her tongue press against the veiny underside of his penis and begin to reluctantly lick it.

Sinead Sweeney knew how to suck cock, not many of the 'good' Catholic girls from her town didn't. She had been with boys before back home and knew how to please and pleasure them but never anybody like this. Mike Jones was short, fat and ugly and probably nearer treble Sinead's eighteen year of age and as she sucked on his cock praying for this to be over soon she could not shift the thought that this made her something akin to a prostitute, sucking this man's cock just to earn money. But that was just one of life's hard lessons she was learning.

The taste, smell and feel of his pre-cum coated cock was nauseating and for every push forward it made invading her mouth towards her throat she had to fight back the reflex to gag on it. She tried to think of other things, her family, her home, how proud they were of her going to University and making something of her life, anything but the actual fact that she was sucking an old man's cock just to get a job to keep her at University. It worked for a while but as he got more aroused and came nearer to climax it became increasingly impossible to ignore his animalistic grunt and thrusts and the increased rate at which his hairy balls were bouncing against Sinead's chin. Almost too late she realised that he was going to shoot his load in her mouth and when she recognised he was on the verge of cumming she shook her head vehemently trying to prevent it. It worked as his hard cock came clear of her mouth at just the moment he exploded cum from the hole in his penis but rather than firing into her throat it shot all over her shocked face. She felt several hot blasts on her cheeks and forehead and knew she was going to be a cum coated mess. Worse when he finally took a step back she found herself looking up, through sticky eyes at two customers waiting patiently on the other side of the bar no doubt until she was finished, to order their drinks. She was mortified and wiped her hand over her messy face and wanted the ground to swallow her up as one of the old guys winked at her and handed a folded note to the landlord.

"The usual Mike. This a new start is it? Looks like she'll do the job, could do with showing a bit more skin though, know what I mean? She looks like she's got enough under that top to entertain at least!"

And as Sinead knelt there, contemplating the utter humiliation she had put herself through the landlord zipped his trousers up and calmly got on with serving his two customers. As he handed their change back to them he turned to Sinead.

"Right you've got the job, you can be here at six o'clock tomorrow and do the evening shift, get you started."

*

Despite that inauspicious start to working life at The Barracks Sinead did indeed turn up the next evening, she was too headstrong to be shamed into not just because of what she had done to get the job. And indeed, Mr. Jones (and he would not allow Sinead to call him anything but that) made no mention of her previous days 'oral examination' and in fact she was surprised to find that the evening was actually not that bad, the bar was busy enough once it got past nine o'clock and she was kept pretty busy. It would have been an all right start other than two incidents just before closing time.

First, two guys came in the doors just before closing time and Sinead moved round the bar to serve them and found herself ashamed and embarrassed to be staring into the eyes of the two men that had walked in on her blowing Mr. Jones for the job the day before. They smiled knowingly at her and made no secret of staring at her ass while she turned to get glasses before pouring their pints nervously. She nearly split one when one of the old guys shouted across.

"Mind and give that one good head love, we know you're good at giving head!"

At that the two men fell about laughing and brought attention on themselves and while the other regulars in the bar started speaking to them asking what was so funny Sinead just wanted the ground to swallow her up again. It didn't, she took their money and as she rang it up she clearly felt her ass being pinched from behind. She swung around to look a the leering, half drunk men but could do nothing but shoot them a glare as they giggled and nearly fell off their stools. In the next half hour Sinead could feel every face in the bar turned to towards her as obviously word of her interview technique spread through the bar. She felt her cheeks redden and was counting down the seconds to where they closed up. She watched each and every one of the patrons leave at twelve (and that was another thing, she could not remember any customer that night who was female, this must be a nearly all male bar) but as she got her coat and prepared to leave her boss called out to her to wait a minute.

"You did fine today Paddy (Sinead cringed at the derogatory term for her heritage), but you are going to have to do like the man said yesterday and show a bit more skin, you've got a good body, nice tits, wear something that shows them off a bit. You know encourage punters to come up to the bar to get a look, that kind of thing, I'm sure someone like you knows the type of thing I mean."

*

It took a lot of willpower for Sinead to come in the next night, but she did. In part because she needed the money but also because she sensed Mr. Fucking Jones and his punters were testing her and she was not about to let those pathetic bastards beat her. So next night she was there five minutes early and wearing a tight, knitted top that squeezed her not inconsiderable breasts together and out so that she showed a healthy amount of creamy white boob flesh and had a dark shadow between her tits that made her front look like a slot machine. She was quite the sight, what with a nice tight black skirt and tights beneath. She marched in with head held up high and spent the night serving drinks and fending off admiring glances and comments and although she felt vulnerable, exposed and not a little humiliated she never once let on and acted as brassy as she could. After a week of that and the arrival of her first wage packet she could just about justify what she had done to get the job and what she was doing to keep it. And Jones had not tried anything further, physically, at least.

In that week Sinead quickly discovered where the bar's name came from, the pub had always been and was still a favourite hangout of British soldiers from the nearby army camp and come the weekend they tended to make up the vast majority of the bar's customers. Like most soldiers they were a rowdy, opinionated bunch and with a few drinks in them and in groups they could be quite the handful. Adding to this was the fact that Sinead was so blatantly Irish and many of the soldiers did not have high opinions of Ireland or the Irish thanks to the ongoing campaigns there with terrorists and para-militaries. Sinead was fiercely proud and patriotic and it did not take long for there to be a confrontation.

From that very first Friday night Sinead enjoyed a volatile relationship with the soldiers that frequented the bar. She had quickly found her feet after that shocking start to working there and was actually getting used to the place (and more the thought of getting paid) when that first Friday night rolled around. She had done what her boss had told her and was wearing lower cut tops and despite herself was getting over any self consciousness and feeling that bit more sexy and confident in her own body, something she had never really found back home. She started her shift at five and was clad in a tight black top that squeezed her breasts together nicely and a knee high black skirt. The first of the soldiers arrived in at six and more followed steadily for a couple of hours until the bar was almost full of them and they were buying plenty of alcohol. They picked up pretty fast that the new blonde barmaid was definitely Irish and it had an instant mixed reaction.

From some it was friendly banter.

"Alright darling, haven't seen you about here before."

From some it had sexual overtones from the start.

"Hey blondie, how about kissing my Blarney stones!" (together with unnecessary point towards his balls are).

While some were far more sinister.

"Hey Landlord, who let this fucking Paddy bitch serve us? Her fucking kind blew my mate up."

Stuff like that was hard for Sinead to take but she bit her tongue, ignored it and continued to serve uninterrupted, but it was a challenge. And as the night got later and the guys got drunker it became harder and harder for Sinead to ignore them. Most were OK but a few overstepped the mark, one in particular, the others called him Cloudy, seemed determined to niggle at the new barmaid at every opportunity and in the end Sinead 'accidentally' tipped a drink all over his lap to much amusement from the other and great anger from him. He jumped to his feet and seemed about to strike her when Mr Jones interceded. He was all apologies and told Sinead to get another drink but the soldier would not accept that and seemed determined to cause more bother when, without warning the landlord waited until the replacement drink had been delivered and pulled Sinead over to him and sat down on a stool. Sinead didn't have a clue what he was doing and neither did the soldiers but they suddenly all went silent as he flipped her over his knee then carefully lifted the hem of her skirt to reveal her black panties and lovely bum cheeks.

"All right boys, she's new here and made a mistake. For that I'll deal with her, not any of you. You do get to watch though!"

And with that announcement Jones brought the palm of his hand stingingly on Sinead arse. Sinead was too shocked to do much of anything as her fat slob of a boss continued to spank her in full view of all the bars customers. The drunken soldiers cheered him on, counting each slap to her cheeks as it landed and turned them ever more red until he got to twenty and finally released her. Sinead fled behind the bar and into the back room, desperately trying to not let them see her tears. She stayed in there a few moments before she sensed movement behind her and she spun around to confront the landlord.

"What the hell was that you bastard? I should fucking have you for that!"

Mr. Jones stared her out and let her vent her fury a sneer never far from his lip.

"Listen up Missy, you spilled that drink all over that asshole on purpose, you know it and so did he. If I hadn't done that he would have torn you apart and I couldn't have stopped him if I wanted to. You've got plenty spunk, I'll give you that but you need to realise that if you want to work here and keep collecting a wage you need to be nice to those guys, whatever they say, they are effectively paying your wages. I'm sorry I had to spank you like that but it was all I could think of to diffuse the situation, I'm sure you'd rather have a tender backside than get your features re-arranged, eh?"

She stared at him hard. They both knew he wasn't sorry at all, that the bastard had enjoyed having her over his knee and spanking her like a naughty little girl but she couldn't deny that things were turning ugly before he interjected himself into proceedings. Grudgingly she nodded at him and moved to squeeze past him back into the bar area.

He was leaning in the doorway back through to the bar area and Sinead would have to get past him but the fat oaf didn't budge an inch as she came up to him. She flattened her back against the wall and tried to slide past but he made sure to put his arm out to stop her when she was level with him. She could feel the bulge at the crotch of his trousers pressing against her as he leaned in to whisper to her.

"Don't tell me you didn't get off on it, I saw your panties, I saw the damp patch. It turned you on, didn't it?"

His breath was stale and horrible and she couldn't bear to look him in the eye as she shook her head and finally forced her way past his blocking arm, the pinch he delivered to her bottom as she moved away the final indignity of the night. But as she straightened her skirt and her hair and tried to resume her position and tried to ignore the fact that the fat bastard was correct -- she was wet down there, she had been aroused by the confrontation with the soldier and her subsequent spanking!

*

After a few weeks both Mr. Jones and the soldiers settled down a bit and grudgingly accepted Sinead was there for the long run. In her mind she viewed what she had gone through as an initiation of sorts and something she just had to do to get through it. She was always leery of her boss but eventually she developed a reasonably friendly (if sometimes quite spiky relationship with the troops that frequented the bar). And despite that first night and some pretty lewd and crude comments things never really went any further than that and somewhere inside Sinead she was frustrated sexually by that. But it was something she couldn't quite understand. Then late one Saturday night things went a bit further than she could have expected.

It had been a busy night, Saturday's always were and Jones had been barely there to help her and had fucked off upstairs to watch a football game and get steadily drunk so Sinead was in complete charge of closing up. She finally managed to get them all out except for one table of four younger guys who, although they had been loud all night had been no trouble at all to the young Irish barmaid. But she still couldn't shift them even once the place was deserted. She made to plead with them one last time when one of the guys turned to her and spoke in a fast, excited voice.