Master's spit slid down my face and dripped onto the bar. I could feel the track it left behind as the air cooled it. My ass had similar trails of spittle from all the men, I could feel them running down the backs of my thighs.

Master's eyes held a glint of pleasure that spiked my arousal. I looked at Him and began to beg:

“Please, oh Please Sir this slut needs to cum…”
“mmmmnnmnmnmmm…nngggggggg”
“ PLEASE OH please…..””

I could hear the cheers and ground my hips as hard as I dared. I continued to beg, knowing that Master loved hearing it. Over my time with Him and Mistress, I had learned to start begging before I reached the edge of orgasm. I knew that they were unlikely to allow me to cum, and by starting to beg a bit early I was able to nurse my heightened arousal, keeping myself hovering just below the edge. It was heady and delicious, and I was anxious to reach that plateau right now.

I was concentrating so hard on reaching that particular point of pleasure/pain, that I barely heard Master's shouted command for someone to "Slap her ass!".

I felt a gentle slap and almost groaned in frustration. Then, to my surprise and delight, the slaps turned hard and stinging, making me surge forward, startled. Suddenly there were many hands slapping me - so many it was hard to focus on any one thing in particular. The sensations were overwhelming me and I began to panic, worried that I was going to cum without permission.

Master jumped up and slid over the top of the bar to the other side. He then pulled my head up by the hair and looked into my eyes. This was what I needed to help maintain focus. His face was inches from my own, and I was able to concentrate on Him, begging...pleading for permission to cum. The slaps continued to rain down on my ass, some of them stinging and making me cry out, some of them were almost a caress. I took a different tone with my begging, almost crooning a pleading song to Master.

"Please Sir, allow this slut to cum..."
"May this slut cum for you..."
"Will you please allow Your slut cum?"

I was looking directly into His eyes; my own eyes were soft with desire, half closed, my lips parted with my tongue peeking out to wet them. I desperately wanted to cum for Him, and tried to show Him that with every fiber of my being. It wasn't simply that I was aroused by the sensations, It was the heady feeling of being within His power. He had physically captured me in the beginning, but now He had captured my soul. Although He might not have been aware of it, I had given myself over to Him the moment He lifted my head up by the hair and stared into my eyes. Up to that point, I had followed His commands because I feared them both. After a time I realized I enjoyed what He and Mistress were doing with me. I loved the scenes, loved the parties. Now it was because I wanted Him to feel pleasure. I wanted to feed Him my pleasure and have Him make it His pleasure. At this point, I felt truly His in a way I never had before. I was His vessel, a channel for His own pleasure. The knowledge that He was also controlling a room full of men simply added to my arousal.

I slowly became aware of shouting, and when Master broke eye contact with me I listened to the yelling and realized a woman was angry about something. The hands had stopped slapping me as the yelling woman fought her way through the crowd and stood in the fringes. The men were now quiet, waiting to see what would happen. She yelled again; “Hey what the fuck is going on here? This is my hour, Stan said!! Where is that goddamn prick… What the fuck is THIS Mister?!!" I saw Master straighten up behind the bar and heard him calmly speak; “She’s your warm up, Britney… She’s here to help you”. Master still held my head by the hair but the stripper's anger had tamped down my arousal.

Her shrill voice rang out again; “Goddamn SLUT…Get the FUCK Out of the way let me at her you fucking PRICKS!”

Suddenly, the object was pulled from my ass and I realized as it hit the floor at my feet that it was a bottle. Master twisted me around by the hair until my back was to the bar. I felt my skirt fall down to cover my pussy and breathed a sigh of relief. I saw the rage on the Brittney's face and realized she was the stripper I had seen earlier and she was angry with ME. Master had me pulled up firmly against the edge of the bar and my cuffed hands were trapped against my ass. The enraged stripper ran forward and attacked me, dowsing my arousal like ice water on a fire. I was shocked. Shocked at the ferocity of the attack. Shocked that Master was allowing it to happen. The woman slapped, scratched and spit on me and I could do nothing to defend myself. When she ripped my shirt off me I started to worry that Master would allow her to continue until she harmed me. The men began to cheer again the moment my breasts were exposed.

I began to feel anger towards her, wanting to be free so I could return the favor with a roundhouse to her jaw. I began to raise my foot to kick out at her and was startled to see her hauled sideways. I realized Master had grabbed her and yanked her against the bar. My relief was palpable. I realized that He was not about to allow her to harm me and I wanted to thank Him.

I opened my mouth to do just that and before I could say anything, I heard the very angry voice of my Mistress; “Keep your stinking paws off her you damn dirty ape!” A frisson of fear went down my spine at the anger I heard in Mistress' voice.