Storm Discovery Part 7 - Showtime

Author: plugged
Title: Storm Discovery, Part SEVEN - Showtime!
Date: 03 August 2007

Bamaboi2serve@charter.net


As I dozed in the bottom on my cage, I realized I had lost my sense of
time. There were no windows in the basement of Master's farmhouse, nor had
there been in the Asian Master's room. Was it morning? Midnight? I couldn't
tell, and when FS came in with some food for me it was...canned dog food!
Repulsive, and no help in determining what time of day it was.
Somehow I got the mush down. Trying not to smell it was the key.
In addition to the exterior cleaning, FS had also started cleaning out
my insides. He may have been the chief "Fuck Slave", but that didn't mean
my ass was off limits. The process was always the same...he would hand me a
suppository to insert into my ass first thing in the morning, and after the
gas it produced had a chance to work I would be put on a toilet to empty my
bowels. Then FS would take me to the shower area and use a metal water hose
with a cock-shaped tip to do a thorough cleaning. Eventually, once I was
trained and trusted, FS would let me clean myself out, warning me to do a
good job or be reported to Master.
I soon found the process erotic, and I stayed hard as I pumped water
into my intestines, trying to get to the point of fullness without
triggering any severe cramps. Soon I was able to use just two major
fillings to accomplish the inner cleaning Master demanded.
FS continued to let my little sissy hair patch grow, but kept me shaved
everywhere else, using a smelly chemical some days and razors on others.
This particular day (morning?) it seemed he was spending extra time on
me. After my insides had been repeatedly washed out, he used a rough brush
to scrub my skin almost raw. Then he employed both razors and the
hair-remover to get rid of my sign of manhood..
After I had been rinsed and dried, he had some new accessories for me to
wear: a leather harness like Asian Master's, but girlie-pink in color...a
matching dog collar that had fake diamond-like gems in it and an attached
leash...a heavy chrome cock-ring...a pair of frilly white girl's panties
that had a big opening in the back, exposing my hole to the air. He added
some flowered flip-flops and some fancy silver rings connected by a chain
that went into my newly pierced tits.
It was about as embarrassing an outfit as you could imagine, and I hoped
we at least would be staying in the house! Before we left the room, FS
picked one more item off a shelf and shoved it in my mouth...a baby
pacifier. My blushing red face added to the picture of humiliation I
presented.
"Come on little girlie," FS ordered as he pulled me along by a brightly
colored leash attached to my new collar.
I was getting pretty good at getting up the stairs on my palms and
knees, and soon we were in the hallway with the many rooms. We took an
almost immediate left and entered a room that was very wide but only a
dozen feet deep. The far wall seemed to be completely covered by a
floor-to-ceiling curtain, but there was bright light coming from under the
curtain, so I expected there would be big windows on the other side. Before
I could take in any more of the room, FS told me to stand still and follow
Master's orders...he then placed a neon-yellow colored cloth bag over my
head, placing me in darkness on all fours.
I heard FS walk away and some other heavier steps approach me. I could
also hear some odd ambient noise...kind of a murmur, was that a
laugh?...then loud music started, like an orchestra flourish, and another
sound I couldn't quite make-out. Master's voice boomed from next to me, and
suddenly it all made sense: "Gentlemen! Welcome to tonight's sissy show!
Those of you at the bar, if you'll take your seats we'll get started!"
I was horribly mortified! I was on a stage of some kind...the curtains
on the "wall" had been stage-curtains and the murmur the sound of a crowd
waiting for a performance to begin! As Master spoke he attached leather
restraints to my wrists and used a ropes hanging from above to raise my
arms and spread them out above my head. Next came ankle restraints, which
he used to spread and fasten my legs to metal brackets fixed in the
floor. In my girlie outfit, I was facing the side of the stage, giving the
audience a side view of my cock sticking out obscenely.
There were catcalls from the audience: "Hey sweetie...you look so
cute! Are you looking' for a boyfriend? Or do you only like other
girlie-bois?" and "Hey slut...want some real man meat?" Wolf whistles
completed the ambiance.
Master pulled the front of my frilly panties down under my cock and
balls, exposing my mostly shaved groin and my (of course) aroused
prick. More whistles and mocking comments about my size and my shaved
state.
"Tonight's little girlie is a special treat for the heroes in our
audience..." Master told them..." Heroes? I wondered? "Watch this..." he
said, as he removed my silver tit rings and replaced them with something
else. At first I couldn't figure out what had been put through the piercing
in my tits and there was no immediate reaction from the audience...but them
Master explained.
"You men from the 754th Rescue Squad & Fire Station did such a great
job in the tornadoes out this way a few months ago that we wanted to make
tonight's show special as a way of saying thanks! That`s why this boi is
proudly wearing one of your badges and a name tag too! We`ll make her your
honorary fire-station bitch!"
The men in the audience were my former co-workers! From behind my
pacifier and through the bag over my head I murmured to Master, begging him
to please not expose me! The audience was apparently too far away and the
angle too severe for them to read the name tag, but those who caught a
glimpse certainly recognized the color scheme, and the badge clearly
matched their own. All of the post 9-11 patriotism had made the blue badge
number series a well-known symbol. My number was PM (as in Paramedic) 3572.
The men in the crowd roared their approval and mocked me even more as a
weakling who could never be their equal, laughing at the skinny feminine
fag-boi who pretended to be a real man! A real hero!
I felt my cock deflating...the first time in a long time...and then
suddenly Master started impaling me with a long dildo, the kind with a
handle on one end...shoving it in and out of my ass to the hoots and
hollers of the men in the audience. My cock quickly responded and I was
again displaying myself at full-mast!
Master got up close to my ear and whispered savagely: "Shall I take off
your mask, slut? Shall I show these real men what happened to their former
paramedic? Do you want them to see your blushing face? Your shame? Shall we
seal your fate right here and now? Do you want them to see what happened to
the boy they always wondered about? The one they caught watching them in
the showers? What do you think they would do if I took off the mask? Do you
pledge to do everything I order from now on? Do I get your complete
obedience in return for keeping your mask on?"
To that, all I could do is shake my head violently up and down. I was
shaking, sure Master was right. He knew I wasn't ready to be exposed to my
former co-workers as a subservient girlie-boi who had once been one of
their own.
Master took hold of the bag over my head and tugged at it, acting as if
he was about to remove it and I held my breath, horrified but willing to
accept Master`s decision...but then he let go of the bag and reached up to
untied my hands and legs, leading me to the side of the stage instead and
placing me on my back in the bottom an old cast-iron tub sitting on a low
platform.
Master pushed my mask up to expose my mouth, removed my pacifier, and
shoved in a mouth gag with a wide funnel attached. At the last minute he
used a small piece of label-maker tape to cover my name on the tag piercing
my left tit, making it read "slut" instead of my name.
"You men come on up here now and show this bitch she's not worthy to
lick the bottom of your hero boots! Let her have something to remember you
by, maybe some of your manhood will rub off on the slut!" As Master spoke
he pulled out his cock and pissed on me in the bottom of the tub, making
sure lots of it wet the cloth covering my face. It made the bright yellow
bag somewhat translucent, and I immediately worried that the men would make
out my features through it! Most of the rest of Master's piss went into the
funnel and then into me!
One by one the men in the audience climbed onto the stage, unzipped, and
pissed on me "Hey girlie, want something to drink?"...soon they filled the
tub a couple of inches on the bottom and soaked me completely. Suddenly I
remembered that while my name tag was covered, my badge was on
display. Would any of the men recognize the number? I recognized some
voices, remembering the times I had lusted after them, picturing their
muscular frames, the way their body hair outlined their frames...especially
my friend Todd...oh yes Todd!...the absolutely cutest man in uniform you
have ever seen! I had lusted after him for more than a year, going out of
my way just to be in the same room when he undressed.
Thinking about Todd, I was hard (was I ever not hard these days?),
almost wishing Master would take my mask off so I could see their faces as
they pissed on me...even knowing that would result in them seeing me as
well.
When the last of the firemen had left the stage, Master pulled me out of
the tub, made me bend over the tub to put my ass in the air facing the
audience.
"We all know how these girlie-bois are, men, right?" He slapped my ass
sharply as he said it. There were cheers and jeers from the supposedly
straight men, (and yet men who seemed to be getting off on some pretty gay
activity ), shouts to Master to "fuck her, to plug her pussy"... as if
their manhood would stay intact in this homoerotic setting if they just
kept up the pretense that I was a real girl! They were even willing to
ignore the cock and balls hanging up against the tub between my
legs. Anyway, Master had quickly stroked his massive pole to hardness and
was soon entering me, blocking their view of my genitals. Instead they were
watching his muscular black ass as he slammed in and out of me, not
bothering to hold me down, knowing I would submit because that's what I
did. That's who I was.
It didn't take long, and soon I felt Master shooting volley after volley
deep inside me, territory he knew very well. After he abruptly pulled out,
Master thanked the men for coming to the performance. He laid a bucket
(fire-engine red even!) next to the tub and asked for tips for me, showing
them what he meant by tossing in a few pennies. The men laughed and did
likewise as they walked past me toward the door, glancing at my form
slumped over the tub, Master's cum leaking out of my ass and down my shaven
legs. Every one of them slapped my ass as they left, part S&M act, part
fire-house locker-room ritual, part "thank you" to me for entertaining
them. The last slap was especially hard and loud, yet I could have sworn I
heard a voice say my name, and the hand that administered that slap stayed
on my ass for just a second longer than necessary, giving me almost a
caress...
Beneath the bright neon yellow head-cover I was crying tears of joy that
fell and mixed with the piss I could smell below me in the tub. I was happy
to have pleased my former co-workers, and Master too.